Page 110 of Cage of Starlight
“I’m so sorry.” Sena presses a gloved hand—already wet with his own blood, from a wound he doesn’t remember getting—to Iri’s red-soaked sweater. Blood seeps through the cloth and warms him, but all he can do is shiver.
Iri smiles at him with the forgiveness of the untethered dead.
“It’s okay,” Sena offers. “I’m dead, too.” Dark blots close in from the corners of his vision.
“Oh, you really are a mess, aren’t you?” A hand reaches for him.
He rears back before Iri’s cold fingers make contact, and Iri staggers, shocked. Sena trembles where he stands. This must be his punishment, to watch Iri die again.
“Oh. Oh, no.” Iri’s eyes widen, bloodless lips parting, and he grabs Sena’s hand, ignoring his flinch and clinging with a grip both vengeful and desperate. “Sena, I wanted to tell you before. Itriedto—listen to me. Riese is lying. I didn’t—my thoughts are a mess but they’reclearernow that I’m away, see? Tory,” Iri murmurs. “They’re going to kill him. You can’t . . .”
No.
He can bear any punishment but that. His tongue fails him when he tries to speak, vision blinking to a seamless darkness. His bones are molten, eyes burning dry. The ground tips up to meet him.
When he falls, no one catches him.
*
The sun blinds Tory as he turns.
It wasn’t that high a moment ago. How long has he been standing here?
He rubs his eyes to clear the sun’s flickering after-image and squints at the man behind him.
Riese waits, foxlike eyes creased with something gentle. “You ran out and never came back. I got worried.”
Tory swallows. “Sena . . .” The name sticks in his dry throat.
Riese’s expression hardens. “That’s what I need to talk about.” The hand on his shoulder guides him away from Sena’s tent and toward the fire. “Take a seat.”
“I’m fine like this.”
“Take a seat,Tory.”
The words land twice as heavy as the hand on his shoulder, and Tory’s body obeys the order, falling onto a stump next to the fire so hard he’s surprised his legs kept him up so long.
Riese watches him. Finally, he says, “Travin and Yized were attacked.”
Tory tries to stand, but Riese’s hand goes from calming to controlling in a second, clamping around his shoulder to keep him down.
“Who . . .?”
“We think it was Sena.”
“He wouldn’t—”
“He did.”
Tory’s mouth moves, but he can’t find a single word of argument in the jumble of his thoughts. “Why?What happened?”
“They heard a sound and pursued it. I’m sure you understand. We’re all sensitive to unexpected noises here. They found Sena, attempted to talk with him, but he was . . .confused.”
Tory pushes down a surge of concern. Of course he was. He was confused beside the fire, too. Tory shouldn’t have left him there. If he’d stayed . . .
“Combative, as well. Travin said it was like he didn’t recognize him. He tried to use his Seed to escape, but of course . . .” He sighs. “I don’t want to say this, Tory, because it’s been clear to me from the start that you’re quite close—”
“We’re not.” It tastes like a lie.Again.“We’re not. Tell me.”
