Page 80 of Children of Fallen Gods

Nura nodded, barely.

Because of the vials that Zeryth gave her before battles — the ones that made her so much stronger. I understood that whatever he was doing to create them played a role in his decline. It stood to reason that it would play a role in Eslyn’s, too.

Nura took another sip, her eyes slipping out over the mountains. “But even aside from Eslyn’s unique circumstances, it’s not a terribly uncommon fate for the Syrizen.” Then she gave me a curious look. “You said you heard screaming.”

“I did. Reshaye did.”

As if awakened by the sound of its name, Reshaye slithered to the front of my skull, taking in Nura with detached disapproval.

“It draws from deep magic, too,” she said. “Like the Syrizen, but even deeper. What you were hearing may have been coming from… there.” She waved her hand out into the air. “Instead of here.”

“Is that how it works?”

“Who knows? No one understands this. But that’s why you need to be careful. Eslyn got sick because she Wielded magic that was too deep, for too long, in the wrong way.”

And I was Wielding magic even deeper than that, for longer. I did get so, so sick after using Reshaye’s magic — but that was nothing compared to what I just witnessed.

“What will happen to Eslyn?” I asked, quietly.

“She’ll die. They always do.”

“Always?”

A pause. “One time, I saw someone survive it. Just once. But she was never the same.”

Reshaye still paced at the front of my thoughts, like a caged panther sizing up the bars of its cage. My head was still in splitting pain.

Stop that,I told it.

{Not as long as she is here.}

My fingers went to my temple. It took all of my strength to push Reshaye back, forcing it into a secluded corner of my mind.

“What?” Nura was giving me a curious look.

“Why does Reshaye hate you so much?”

The corners of her mouth tightened. “Reshaye hates everything.”

{What I feel is not hate,}Reshaye hissed, as if offended by this characterization.

“It hates you more.”

“Probably because Max does.”

Despite myself — despite everything else I had to worry about — hearing Nura say Max’s name always made my jaw clench in sheer petty protectiveness. “It isn’t that.”

{Again and again, she fought me,}Reshaye whispered.{It never ended.}

“You tried to Wield it,” I said.

“Of course I did.”

Of course? My stomach turned. To think that she wanted this thing, after what it did to Max — after what it did to the Farliones. Sometimes, I found myself thinking of Nura as a reluctant ally, but in moments like this, I was revolted by her.

I didn’t let it show. But she cast me a knowing glance, as if she still felt my unspoken judgement.

“Do not think,” she said, quietly, “that I did not have areckoningwith that thing.”

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