lit his youth, flickered bright, and spread into a wildfire that burned him. But Lyana was no flame—she was starlight, blinding in the darkness, guiding him home.
"And what of those who still live?" he said, voice suddenly hoarse. "What of Lyana, my sister, and the others?"
Something dark crossed Solina's eyes. Her jaw tightened. She looked aside and spoke tautly.
"They will live," she said. "I will not kill them. I will not hunt them. You have my word, Elethor. I vow to you." She looked back at him and again took his hands. "If you remain here with me—with your Solina, with your love—I won't harm any more of your people. Those who still live can leave this land, fly into exile, and find whatever life they still can."
He tore himself away from her. He walked to the back of the room where his statues stood. He faced them: likenesses of Solina carved in marble. A sigh ran through him, and he closed his eyes.
"No," he said softly. "No, Solina. You say we are young here and pure. Are we pure, Solina? What defines our evil—our actions or our hearts? You slew my family. You butchered my people. You—"
"Not me, Elethor! Not this me. Not this Solina here." She walked toward him and grabbed his arm. "Not this Solina who stands unscarred before you."
She breathed heavily, chest rising and falling, and she was beautiful, and young, and temptation itself barefoot in dawn's light.
"That evil is inside you," he said. "It always was; I was blind to it. I saw your beauty. I felt your kisses. I ignored the cruelty of your heart. Your hands slew my family years from now. Your heart drove those hands; it has always beaten inside you. I will not stay with you here. I will not be part of this mockery, this fake dream, this—"
She slapped him—a slap so hard he sucked in breath and saw stars.
"You will!" she hissed between clenched teeth. Her eyes blazed. "You will stay with me here, or she will die, Elethor. She will die in pain. I will kill her." She spun toward the doorway and screamed. "Legion! Bring the whore!"
The door to Elethor's chamber creaked open.
The nephil's head thrust inside, nearly as tall as a man.
Elethor growled and instinctively reached for his sword, only to find it missing. The sight of this rotted, bloody creature here, in perfect old Requiem, spun his head. Legion grinned, and his fangs shone, and his drool pooled on the floor. Dried blood encrusted the spikes and horns across his head, his halo crackled, and worms crawled inside his left eye.
Like a scuttling insect, Legion crawled into the chamber—even crouched, he barely fit through the door. Rot dripped from him to seep across the floor, and his stench swirled, thick as moldy stew in the air.
Then Elethor saw what Legion clutched to his belly, and he let out a hoarse cry.
Holding her close against him, Legion carried a bloodied, bruised Lyana.
"Lyana!" Elethor shouted and made to grab her, but Solina held him back.
"Don't move, El!" she warned, her breath against his ear. "If you move, he will crush her. See how frail she is! See how sharp his claws are around her little ribs."
Elethor froze, head spinning and breath panting. Lyana moaned, her eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at him. Her one eye was swollen and bruised. Her lips bled. When she saw him, she gave a soft gasp and whispered his name. This was not the Lyana of ten years ago, the imperious girl with the upturned nose and bouncing red curls. This was the Lyana he had married, her hair shorter, her eyes deeper and wiser.
"Lyana," he whispered.
He looked into her eyes and saw fear, anger, and pain, but above all love for him and Requiem, a brittle strength like an old sword drawn for one last battle.
"Look at her," Solina whispered. She stood behind Elethor, her hand on his shoulder, her lips against his ear. "Look at her there, bloodied and nearly crushed in the claws of my servant. Look at her, the great knight, the proud queen, the loving wife—look at her. Broken. Weak. Almost dead."
Elethor would not remove his eyes from Lyana, but he spoke to Solina.
"She is stronger than you will ever know, Solina," he said. "She is stronger than you will ever be."
Solina took a step forward, touched his cheek, and whispered.
"We will see, Elethor. We will see." She turned toward the nephil and his prey.