Page 127 of Frost Like Night
Everything in him heaved from grieving to numb to vibrant as a he spun around.
Meira. Blanketed with the thick gray dust of the chasm and streaked with blood.
But Meira.
Alive.
She smiled, fighting exhaustion as she wobbled forward. He didn’t hesitate, couldn’t have even if he’d wanted to—he swept in to catch her as she strung her arms around his neck. Her head bent into his chest, each warm breath from her coating his heart with the purest, most unbelievably perfect waves of joy.
A thousand things rammed against his mouth, but all he said was “Cordell’s conduit.”
Meira nodded. Ice, every movement from her made him want to cry out.
“I didn’t realize what it would do until we were falling,” she said, keeping her face tucked against him as if she needed to touch him as much as he needed her. “But we hit the magic, and I watched Angra disintegrate. I expected the magic to burn me up as well—but the dagger touched it before I did. Then everything went white, and I was flying up through the mountains. I thought . . . I thought I was dead . . . but it saved me. The dagger.”
She shook her head, unable to say more as she tightenedher hold in one resilient squeeze before she pulled back, laughing. Her laugh made him light enough to float into the now-clear sky. Any remnants of magic were gone; any echoing vibrations had faded.
It was over.
Ceridwen dove forward to throw herself around Meira, who still had Mather’s hands on her waist. The Thaw joined next, laughing and colliding in a mess of arms and smiles and tears as Dendera, Oana, and Rares swept in too. They became nothing but a tangle of happiness, grabbing onto their victory through the loss, their triumph through the grief.
Mather’s eyes connected with something outside their group.
Cordellan soldiers clustered around a stand of trees not far down. Theron limped toward them, one hand wrapped around his side, his face void of . . . everything.
He was free of Angra’s darkness now. How would he react to what he had done?
And how much of what he had done had actually beenhim?
Theron must have felt eyes on him, because he instinctively turned, then immediately winced in regret. He didn’t want to face them yet—Mather couldn’t blame him.
But the reason Mather’s arms weren’t empty right now was because of Theron. All the hatred he’d felt towardCordell, all the anger at Noam and jealousy at Theron—it had all given him Meira back.
So before Theron looked away, Mather bowed his head.
Theron blinked. His jaw shifted. He closed his eyes and nodded in return.
Meira’s mouth grazed Mather’s ear. “Thank you. For saving him.”
Mather smiled, jostled as more people joined the celebration. He lifted a hand to cup her head, holding her face just down from his. “Thank you for savingus.”
She grew solemn, and he saw one distinct thought cross her face: William.
“We’re free now,” Meira said, to Mather, to herself. She turned to face part of the celebrating crowd, one hand on his chest. Brightness returned to her eyes, beautiful resilience that Mather wanted to spend the rest of his life basking in. “We are free!”
Her cry shot out into the air, egging other shouts higher. It was hard to feel anything but joy here, an infectious wonder that every person in the valley dove into headfirst.
Meira pivoted back to him, her grin radiant, and didn’t give him a word of warning or a chance to kiss her first—she leaped on him, pressing her lips to his. He hadn’t thought he’d ever get to do this again. Hold her, kiss her, know her lips by anything other than memory. The kiss echoed through his every nerve, tangling around the griefknotted in his gut and easing it looser.
Mather laughed against her mouth and swept her into his arms again, lifting her so he could spin as she kissed him, surrounded by chaos and happiness and laughter, the start of their new beginning.
39
Meira
Six Months Later
AS WE PASSthrough the great gates that guard Bithai, I bear down so hard on my horse’s reins that I’m surprised he doesn’t bolt into the crowd.
