Across from them, Key’s attention was fixed wholly on Remmus.
“Derikles, ease back from your Amp slowly, in sync with him withdrawing power back into himself. Zeke, continue feeding him until he’s shut off his gift, and wait until Kaien’s touching him before you completely stop.”
Verifying the instruction by locking eyes with Key, Derikles did as the foreseer bid.
Slowly easing back on the amplification he’d woven around Zeke’s thread, he limited the pulse of power to barely more than a trickle. At Key’s terse command, Derikles detached completely. Nothing happened.
Every immortal in the room could sense the exact moment Remmus’ gift slammed back into him. A visible jerk as his eyes shifted from white to seafoam green and his focus settled on his mate.
Both Kaien and Zia were at this side, hands moving toward him as though to forestall the effects of what’d inevitably come rushing down the pipeline.
Then, it happened.
The energy drought slammed into Remmus like a lightning bolt. Eyes widening, his entire body locked up, his head dropping backward as he gasped. It was as though the amount of energy he expended left him at once, leeching strength in one fell swoop.
Remmus’ heart stuttered, an audible gap in the pattern. The healers reacted just as quickly. Key, still hovering nearby, spoke calmly while a flurry of action surrounded the technopath.
“Kaien, regulate his heart. Zia, focus on combating the energy drought.”
Both healers threw themselves into their tasks with single-minded determination. With muscles still locked in place, Remmus didn’t move, his eyes wide as he struggled to expand his lungs and breathe.
“It’ll be alright,” Key assured his fretting mate. “Have faith. Be patient.”
Even for Derikles, who didn’t know Remmus at all, it was a difficult ask. Though Raeths borne of creation didn’t experience recoil like their destruction counterparts, their energy droughts could be downright nasty. Experiencing one brought on by the aftermath of not one, but two Amps, had to be unimaginable.
All of them took a breath of relief when Remmus’ heart began to beat correctly once more, and another when the technopath finally succeeded in taking a breath. He collapsed suddenly, falling forward into Ava’s waiting arms.
“He’s in drought,” Key said with a sigh of relief. “Let him sleep. I promise you: he’ll wake up tomorrow.”
The foreseer was apparently a fount of knowledge. As Derikles moved back into position behind his sovereign, his mind returned to the time Key had sought out his own presence. It’d been just after Isaiah and Rukia had heard of the impending battle the previous month.
She’d found him painting in his studio, her eyes shifting violently between white and amber. Almost immediately, she froze where she stood. Her stillness was almost disturbing, and though he was eager to hear about his part in their plan for survival, Derikles knew she was prone to periods of dissociation. He’d waited patiently until she recovered and spoke.
“Everything will fall on your shoulders when his are gone.”
He frowned. “Whose?”
“You are pivotal, Derikles. After the battle, your mettle will be tested, and your strength will be tried.” Her irises turned pure white. “Prove that you are strong; prove that you are worthy.”
Key had teleported away after the shockingly brief speech, leaving him to wonder about her intentions long after she’d gone. As Isaiah had instructed, he’d kept the oddity of it to himself, pondering the meaning in the weeks that followed.
She was just as slippery now.
Derikles watched impassively as Kaien and Zia teleported away with Remmus and his mate. The room slowly cleared of its inhabitants. Just as he was getting ready to teleport home himself, a pink-haired bombshell burst into the room without knocking, seemingly shocked at the number of people within its walls.
“Sovereign?”
Derikles noticed the new arrival had violet eyes, and her lipstick was a vibrant shade of the same color. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He shifted further into the shadows, eager to see how things developed.
“Celeste,” Nina greeted, smiling warmly and gesturing at the remaining immortals in the room. “We’re having an impromptu get together. My apologies for not warning you. You’re welcome to stay if you’d like?”
“No worries—I’ll find you later.”
Celeste beamed, the expression a perfect fit for her impishness. And then she was gone, leaving Derikles to contemplate whether he wanted to go after her.
Without any prompting, Key spoke directly to the eldest immortal in the room, demanding his attention. “Ezekiel.”
“What is it, Key?”