of thinking fully of what lies ahead, I keep imagining how sweet it would be to feel that warmth in my gut again. To dull the edge of all this fear and worry. So I am glad of the snow, that I can leave the wineskin behind until Vela begins purifying all that I drink again. And I am sorry that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” she finished in a whisper.
“Not as strong?” He caught her face, made her look up at him. “Would you blame a starving man for craving the food that will ease the pain in his belly? You crave what once helped ease the pain in your heart. Now you are besieged by fear and worry, but you do not drink because you know the harm that may come if we face Goranik while you are drunk. So you are leaving it behind. That requires more strength than giving in.”
A sobbing little breath broke through her lips, but she gave a quavering smile and kissed him. “You ease the pain in my heart, Aerax.”
“Given a choice, no other purpose would I have.”
She sighed against his lips. “But we are not given a choice. For you cannot look away from those in torment any more than I can run south.” Tenderly she cupped his jaw, looked up at him. “Our path leads to the crystal palace. So on we go, to glorious battle, where my name will become legend.”
And where he would never, ever let her go.
CHAPTER 28
LIZZAN
Sullen clouds crowded the sky as they stole their way to the heart of the island, where the spires of the crystal palace formed shining peaks over a fortress that had once crowned a mountain. Always before the palace had seemed so beautiful to Lizzan, filled with warmth whether catching the sunlight or moonlight, a symbol of strength and comfort, an example of all that might be accomplished through learning and effort and determination.
Yet knowing the truth of its purpose, she only saw the hard and sharp edges. To her now it seemed a cold and cruel place, built not so that Kothans would always look up and aspire to more, but so that all who ruled there could look down on everyone who would one day be trapped beneath its terrible weight.
But there was no one except Aerax, Saxen, and Lizzan to look down on now as they followed Caeb through the silent streets. Only once had they stopped, when the Lithan prince had gone into a blacksmith’s shop and emerged carrying a heavy, long-handled hammer—as if he meant to crush his father’s skull instead of stab his eye or cleave a blade through his head. Lizzan had no true care how it was done, as long as Goranik and his demon were dead.
They had been told that Goranik and the viswan monks had the palace under siege, and the last message the Kothans had received was that the doors were cracking but the demon had not yet broken through. As they crept closer, it became apparent that there was no one still outside the palace.
The crystal doors were shattered.
Aerax saw her dismay. “There are other defenses inside,” he reminded her softly.
Lizzan knew. More doors, secret chambers, palace guards. But her brother was one of those defenses, and she could not bear to see him shattered, too.
As other guards had been. Her stomach tightened with dread as they started down the halls, the demon’s trail easy to follow by the dead left in his wake. She knew that Caeb would warn her if he smelled Cernak among the bodies, yet still she could not stop herself from looking to each one, just to be certain.
They passed through a dining hall, where a dozen guards had fallen—and one of the viswan.
Never had Lizzan met one of the monks before. This one was a woman, killed by a crossbow bolt through her throat. Runes were tattooed with red ink into her face and arms. No armor did she wear, only blue robes, and she’d carried no weapon that could Lizzan see.
Saxen knelt beside her. “Her name is Perit. She always tried to take my seed after she made me bleed. And that is my blood on her face.”
The tattoos. To enhance her affinity to natural magics . . . which might be why she carried no weapons or shield. Her spells might do both, as could Tyzen’s fire or Preter’s wind.