“The sorceress?” Kiandra asked.
“Gone.” I hesitated. “Maybe.”
She nodded, her expression stoic. But I had a strange feeling that nothing I’d said had surprised her. That the loss of the second key and the opening of its gate were events she’d long known would happen.
“There is still hope left,” she said softly. “At least there is as long as you and the last key remain in play.”
“If the safety of the world depends on my actions,” I said bitterly, “then heaven help the fucking world.”
She blinked; then her gaze refocused. I suddenly realized she’d been seeing into the future.
“To use a worn-out cliché, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. You must not give up, Risa, no matter what it costs or however much you might want to.”
I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
Hell on Earth might be one step closer, but there was no way I was about to bring my child into a world overrun by hell’s spawn.
Somehow, I’d find a way to stop the Raziq and secure the third key.
We’ll find, not you’ll find, Azriel corrected, voice stern. Whatever we do from now on, we do it together.
I twined my fingers through his but felt no safer for the comfort of his touch.
Because I knew, just as he knew, just as Kiandra undoubtedly knew, that even together we might not be strong enough to win the last, and perhaps the most important, battle of all.
The battle for life.