There was nothing nice about that chuckle. Nothing nice at all.
Azriel swore, but the words were distant, meaningless. My mind was still with Amaya, with the destruction she was about to wreak.
He spun, wrapped his arms around me, and transported us out of there. We’d barely reappeared in the street when the entire warehouse – and everything Ilianna, Tao, and I owned – exploded into a million different pieces.
And deep within the heart of that explosion, my sword consumed the energy that was my father, sucking him dry until there was nothing but dust and memory left.
And those remnants she burned.
My father was dead. Gone.
I had my revenge, but I felt no better for it. I just felt… empty.
As empty as Ilianna’s life would be without Mirri…
Oh god, Mirri.
I didn’t think, I just reacted. In an instant I was in Aedh form and streaking across the city. The fierce energy that was the Brindle’s protective field reared up in front of me but just as abruptly gave way. I raced unimpeded through the shadowed halls, not changing shape until I neared the chamber where Ilianna, Kiandra, and Zaira had been attempting to free Mirri from my father’s noose. I hit the doors at a run, and with enough force to slam them back against the walls. The crash reverberated through the silent halls and, in the room, three figures spun.
Three, not four.
A sob tore at my throat. I stumbled, tried to catch my balance, and failed. I hit the stone floor hard enough to shred my jeans and skin my knees, but I didn’t care.
My gaze met Ilianna’s. There was nothing there. No anger, no grief. No pain. Nothing other than surprise.
I swallowed hard, and somehow managed to say, “Mirri? Is she —?”
Zaira said, “What the hell —” about the same time as Azriel appeared behind me and said, “Risa, there is no need —”
“Ilianna!” I cut them both off, my voice rising to a near shout as I added, “Is Mirri okay?”
She didn’t answer, just stepped to one side. And there, sitting on the floor, looking shocked and a little worse for wear, was Mirri.
She waved a hand as my gaze met hers, but didn’t actually speak. Though there was no sign of the energy collar around her neck, her throat was red-raw and decidedly painful-looking.
But she was alive, even if hurt, and the relief that swept through me was so great that if I hadn’t already been on my knees, I soon would have been. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. At least one thing had gone right. It might not have been the most important thing – at least in terms of what was at stake for both this world and the other – but on a personal level, this was the only thing that really mattered. I’d done a lot of things wrong, but at least I hadn’t killed Ilianna’s heart.
Ilianna walked over, knelt in front of me, and wrapped her arms around me. She didn’t say anything, and neither did I. Not for the longest time.>The key.
The sorceress had found it.
I wasn’t going to get there. I couldn’t stop her. I swore and did the only thing I could do – I flung Amaya, with as much force as I could muster.
She arrowed through the air, her flames trailing behind her like a comet and her scream rolling across the rapidly darkening antechamber like a call to arms. The hands tearing at me seemed to pause; then as one they turned and raced after Amaya, quickly overtaking her and rushing on.
Too late.
We were all too late.
There was a blinding flash of light, followed by an explosion. Air hit, the force smashing into Amaya and sending her spinning away. A second later it did the same to me.
As I tumbled over and over, the air around me began to shudder, gently at first but gathering strength, until it seemed as if the entire field was about to shatter. Then it shifted. Dropped. The warm brightness of the antechamber flickered and, in the brief darkness, the gossamer fingers rushing forward found shape and form, became beings who were twisted and misshapen, and whose very countenance spoke of pain. Eons of pain. Then the warmth reinstated itself and the wisps became nothing more than reaching hands.
The gates were gone.
There was nothing but space in their place. Nothing but a deep and threatening sense of uneasiness.
I’d failed again.