Endure - Sara B. Larson Page 0,108

from the Dansiian army had surrendered. Apparently, the golden light the Rén Zhsas had called upon had come all the way out of the canyon, into the city and valley beyond, killing the black sorcerers who had remained with the bigger portion of the army and terrifying the rest of the Dansiian soldiers into throwing down their weapons and surrendering. Many of them were even helping prepare graves for the fallen, apologizing for fighting against us, and claiming they’d had no choice.

I believed them.

The Blevonese were burying their dead, as was their custom, with the help of those Dansiians who were willing, which I hoped was the first step toward a lasting peace between all three kingdoms. But Damian had insisted we honor those we’d lost in Antion’s tradition.

“It’s time,” Damian murmured, and I nodded.

He let go of me so I could step forward and say my final good-byes. I went to Tanoori first, reached out to stroke back the hair from her cold face. It was my fault she’d died. She might not have survived the battle no matter what, but her death had been a direct result of Rafe’s control on me. I bent forward to kiss her forehead, fresh tears splashing on her stiff face.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I failed you. I hope that you and Eljin are together now. I failed you both.”

I kissed her again and then made myself straighten and turn to face Rylan.

We’d wrapped his body in white sheets, to preserve the memory of him as he’d always looked, not as he looked now. When I stepped up next to him, my legs wouldn’t hold me, and I dropped to my knees beside him, shaking with sobs. I reached over to put my hands on his, where they were crossed over his chest, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. I remembered his last word, his brother’s name, and I fervently prayed that he was with his family again — that they were all reunited now.

“Thank you,” I choked out. “Thank you for saving him.”

I’d soaked the white sheets by the time I finally forced myself to climb back to my feet on trembling legs. Damian came to stand beside me, wrapping his arm around me and drawing me in to his side. He reached up to wipe his face as well.

“I owe him my life,” he said after a while, his voice hoarse. “If you hadn’t risked yourself to save him and bring him back to Antion, he wouldn’t have been there last night to save me. I’m not sure I deserved that sacrifice.”

I looked up into Damian’s tear-streaked face, at his bloodshot eyes, which were still so beautiful, and it truly hit me for the first time. We’d both survived.

There was nothing and no one left to tear us apart, ever again.

“He told me to love you … as he loved me,” I said. “In the end, he was happy for us. He truly came to love you, too.”

Damian swallowed once, hard, his jaw clenched, and nodded. “I will never forget him — or his sacrifice for us,” he finally said, his voice unsteady. “You were right to love him. He deserved it.”

He wrapped his other arm around me, holding me close for a long moment. And then he drew back. “Are you ready?”

I reached out to place my hand on Rylan’s one last time. I broke away from Damian to bend over and press my lips to his cheek through the sheet. “I truly did love you. Thank you for what you did.” I kissed his cheek again and whispered, “Good-bye.”

And then I straightened and turned to Damian. “I’m ready.”

He signaled, and some servants who had stayed behind with the troops came forward, their lit torches ready. We stepped back, and as the servants lit the pyres one by one, I whispered good-bye to Asher, and Borracio — being buried elsewhere — and the others who had also fallen during the night. Flawed men and women, but loyal friends to the end.

The flames took hold quickly, rising up to consume the bodies, releasing their souls to rise to their final resting place. As the pyres grew, the rest of the Antionese soldiers and guards who had survived the battle, including Deron and Jerrod, formed a circle around them. Even some Blevonese came; Jiro, my father’s cousin, and King Osgand was there, standing back from the crowd, paying his respects without interrupting.

“We will never forget those who fell here,