“There is no good and evil, boy. We’re all good, and we’re all evil. We all do what we believe is best for our world. All but the witch, who wants to rule supreme. Same as you. To me, you are the evil ones. You are the corrupt ones.”
Once again, he leaned close to Owen’s face. “You betrayed me.”
“I did what I had to do.”
The shimmer lord shrugged. “It doesn’t matter why you did it, only that you did. This part, I will do myself, in retribution.”
Brasque nodded at his men. Two of them held Owen’s head in a relentless grip, and Brasque Dray dug out his eyes.
“Now,” he said, though Owen was no longer able to listen, “you can never again leave Skyll. And when I kill you, your death will be the true death.” He stared for a long moment at the mess in his hand. “What can be worse than that?”
What, indeed.
And then, finally, the shimmer lord released Rune’s hand.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When she regained consciousness she was curled up on the ground, sobbing in horror, her hands covering her face.
Too many thoughts screamed for attention, but the pain—the emotion—trumped them all.
“Rune,” the shimmer lord said, “you are too soft. I don’t know which of us gave you that. It certainly wasn’t me.”
Then he sighed and put his hand, heavy and hot, upon her shoulder. “Or maybe it was. Come, my child. Let us plan.”
Her mind was swirling like a vortex about to suck her in. She wouldn’t have cared if it had. She needed to hide for a while.
She needed Z.
But Owen made a sound, a cry so completely lost that it pulled her out of her own misery and into his.
She stood and stumbled to him.
One of the guards held Owen’s hat against his chest, and as she advanced upon him he tossed it toward her.
She buried her face against it, inhaling the familiar scent, and thought of happier times with Owen Five. Then she placed the battered hat gently on his chest.
He was still broken. He couldn’t touch her because his fingers were shattered. He couldn’t have lifted his hands anyway because his shoulders were dislocated and his elbows had been smashed into shards of bone.
“He betrayed you as well,” Brasque said, his voice gentle, sympathetic. “We both trusted him. Loved him, even.” He started to lay a hand on her shoulder but she stopped him with a look.
She wanted to kill Brasque Dray. Wanted to kill him so very badly.
But she held back for one reason.
She had no idea what killing Dray would do to the world. To the worlds. She couldn’t decide if his death would be something Damascus wanted.
Almost certainly it was.
And if the witch wanted it, it had to be the wrong thing to do. Had to be.
Didn’t it?
She wanted to do the right thing. She had no idea what that was.
Owen had deceived her.
He had betrayed Shiv Crew.
He’d brought the rotting disease to her world.
She should have hated him.
She didn’t.
Not then.
She dropped to her knees beside him. “Owen,” she whispered.
He was awake in his dark hell. He turned his face toward her.
She caressed his cheek, then leaned over to kiss his swollen lips, gently. So gently. Then she kissed his bloody eyelids. “I’m here.”
He didn’t ask her to kill him.
He didn’t say anything at all.
Once more she opened a vein for him. “Drink, baby.”
If she fed him enough times, surely her blood would heal him.
Surely her blood would bring him back.
Sounds of distant fighting—booms, strange shrieks like twisting metal, unfamiliar roars—began to drift to her.
“Her armies are attempting to breach the walls,” Brasque said. “Again. Soon, they will succeed.” He started to say more but Matthew interrupted him.
“The witch has your people,” he told her.
“My friends?”
He nodded, still not looking at her. “She has three of your friends.”
Rune was not surprised. Not at all.
She stood, pinching the wound on her wrist so it would close. “I’ll need a cart for Owen and a horse to pull it. I’ll want a horse for me as well. And some guards.”
“He’s dead weight,” the shimmer lord said. “He’ll slow you down.”
“We’re going to Magic Shimmer.” She looked at the guards, all standing at attention. “Some of you bring me supplies—you know what I’ll need. Stow them in the cart.”
Brasque nodded. “So it begins.”
“It began long before I got here, dude. I’ll kill the witch and then I’ll be back.” She stared at him. “You and I are going to talk.”