Page 98 of Sanctuary of the Shadow
His body was being incinerated. It said a lot for Darya’s Water-enhanced embodiment that Furie hadn’t just blown him to smithereens—he had seen it happen before. One touch, or even just an enraged shriek, and the enemy’s body simply…exploded.
Raith, on the other hand, was lasting. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. A quick death was a mercy he didn’t deserve but one he wished for anyway, though he’d never lower himself to beg for it.
“So you thought you could be free, did you, Thirteen? You poor, wretched thing. Oh, I saw it all in the flames. How you found the Seer you failed to kill and fell in love with her. How you were foolish enough to believe she could love you back.”
Not Harrow, Raith wanted to beg.Do anything to me, but don’t torture me with thoughts of her. But he wouldn’t beg for mercy he knew he wouldn’t receive.
“Such a silly, naive creature. How could anyone love a monster like you? When she found out what you were, how you had slain her beloved mother and family, how you were my obedient assassin for centuries, she fled from you in terror, didn’t she? She was horrified she had welcomed such a beast into her body. She fled back to her real protector, Salizar, and begged him to kill you.”
It was all true. Raith wanted to howl with misery, but he kept his resolute silence. To not scream was the only dignity he had remaining, and he clung to it.
“Rejected by your beloved, you came back here to have your vengeance, is that it? To strike back at me for all the pain I’ve caused you? Or was it more selfless than that? Perhaps you came back to kill me to avenge your Seer. Perhaps you hoped she might forgive your crimes if you were successful. How romantic.”
She paused for effect and whispered, “A pity you failed and will die here instead.”
If she meant to frighten him, she failed in that. Raith could have cried with relief. She was finally going to end him. The agony would be over.
He could tell by the pain in his body, or lack thereof, that he hadn’t much time left. Or much body left, for that matter. Most of him was numb now, probably melted or burned away. His vision was black around the edges. Soon it would be over. He allowed his consciousness to fade to a gentle wisp until he felt nothing but a soothing caress against the edges of his soul…
And he suddenly knew.
When he died, he wouldn’t go to a shadowy void of isolation in the blackest pits of the dark Shades. He would go somewhere peaceful beyond the Veil. He felt it there, just outside his reach, though he was now grasping at it with both hands. It was welcoming him. Reaching out for him as he reached out for it.
Tears of gratitude would have streamed from his eyes if he’d had eyes left to cry with. Surely a purely evil being couldn’t find such peace? Surely this meant he wasn’t evil after all?
With a final, grateful exhale of his shredded lungs, Raith relaxed into death.
“Or maybe,” Furie said from a thousand miles away, “you’re even nobler than I thought. Maybe you came here knowing full well you wouldn’t succeed in killing me. Maybe you came because you knew that when you failed, I would kill you. Oh yes, you wanted to die, didn’t you? This was all an epic gesture for your true love—sacrificing yourself to restore the balance. What better way to avenge your Seer than by killing the one responsible for her mother’s death? Yourself.”
She laughed, and it reverberated around his blissful haze like a wildfire sparking in a peaceful forest.
“You clever beast! You manipulated me! And by the Goddess, I nearly fell for it. I nearly gave you exactly what you wanted. Oh, this is too much.”
No!Raith screamed mentally.Finish me!He was so close to the edge. Seconds from falling over it.
“Let me tell you something, Thirteen. Something you should already know from your years of service to me. I don’t like being manipulated. And I punish those who try in the worst ways imaginable. So now, I’ve changed my mind. You will not be dying today. I have something much greater in store for you.”
In an instant, the pain vanished, and with that, he finally broke.
If he could have, he would have begged for mercy. He would have pleaded for his own death. But he had no more strength left for begging, and no tongue left to speak with.
He had failed both his final tasks—Furie lived, and apparently, now so would he.
He could already imagine what she had in mind for him. Before, going to his death had seemed a dark sacrifice but a necessary one. Now, death would be a merciful gift—one he wouldn’t be receiving.
Had he the strength, he might have laughed at the cruelty of the Goddess for saddling him with such a miserable existence. It seemed even his desire to die honorably would be denied him. For he knew with certainty:
What awaited him now was a fate worse than death.
…
Raith must have lost consciousness, because the next time he was aware, he opened his eyes—he could see again?—and recognized the inside of the Room of Jars. Whatever was left of his body lay paralyzed upon the floor in the center of the scorch marks, right where Furie used to trap him with Fire magic when he’d been a full wraith.
“You’re awake,” she said from somewhere, though he couldn’t see her.
He saw above him and to the sides, as far as his eyes could travel, but he couldn’t turn his head or move his body in any way.
“I thought you might die on me on our way down here, so I had to heal you a little bit. Then I almost killed you again when I saw what you did to my wraiths.” She chuckled. “Very bad, Thirteen. But it’s no matter—I made them, and I can summon them back to me again. And perhaps one of your first tasks when I’m finished with you will be cleaning up all the glass in here. That’ll take ages.”
