Page 141 of The War of Wings
Malosym was dead. And so was I.
???
The sky was blue. But it was different. It was lighter, wider. The air held a familiar sweetness. I wasn’t waking up in the Darkness Beyond. Not this time.
Heaven?
My head spun as I stood and took in the palatial structure towering over me. No. The Gates were nowhere to be found. This wasn’t Heaven. This was…
I didn’t know where I was.
My hand hit my forehead as my mind spun. I’d killed Malosym. He was dead. But so was I. Was I?
Cal.
A wave of dizziness almost took me back to the ground as I scrambled to my feet. He was dead. He tried to kill Malosym with the imbued blade and it didn't work. He was dead.
“Petra?” a smooth voice chimed from somewhere behind me, and I whirled to see Onera’s warm face, a look of concern pulling at her features as she walked through the garden I wassomehowin.
“I… I-I need to g-go back,” I stuttered.
And suddenly, Onera was gone, and I was on the ground. In the sand. On the beach. Someone was screaming. Someone was weeping. Someone was cheering. Someone was jostling me. I forced my eyes open to see blue sky surrounding a figure, and though this sky was the one I was used to, it was marred by wisps of black smoke.
The Human Realm.Cal.
I shot up, my head protesting the movement by sending a bolt of pain ricocheting down my spine. I…wasn’t dead. I must not have slept long enough to heal myself this time, but I was back. I’d crossed realms again. I willed myself to focus on Cal. He was the one jostling me. I’d been mistaken. He hadn’t died. My shoulders were in his hands, and he was shouting in my face as he shook me.
But those brown eyes weren’t Cal’s eyes. That wasn’t Cal’s face. That was…
“Whit?” I whispered, my voice crackly and hoarse. The edges of his face were blurry, but I could see the dark slashes of his brows over his eyes. The blue sky behind him was suddenly gone. It was night? How did that… No, it wasn’t night. That was adriva. That was Ventus. Why were they here? Where had they come from?
“Petra!” someone shouted from far away. I turned my head but pain rang through me again, my eyes locked on Whit. Oh, the shout had come from him. Why was he screaming? Whit’s eyes moved behind me, a hand raised like he was motioning someone away. Steam puffed from Ventus’ nostrils. Where was Cal? Hadn’t I just seen him? He’d had the imbued blade, and he’d…
No.I scrambled backwards, the pain forgotten as I pulled myself from Whit’s grip. “Petra, no!” Whit yelled after me, but I wasn’t stopping for anything. I grappled through the sand, crawling toward the limp figure laying beside a pile of ash. A blast of air hit me, and I craned my aching neck to see Obitus, his slitted eyes hollow and mournful. Where had he come from? How was he here?
Everyone was screaming. A man knelt, his forehead pressed to his clasped hands and his clasped hands pressed to the sand as he wept. Swords were in the air. AndSaints, the screaming was relentless. Not screaming… Cheering. Happy noises of triumph.
“Cal,” I tried to add my voice to the chorus, but it was only a broken whisper. “Cal.” The imbued blade was still in his grip, Aegrabane at his side. I grabbed his other hand. It was too fucking cold. His skin wastoo fucking cold. Why was it so cold? I grabbed his shoulders the same way Whit had grabbed mine and shook him violently. “Cal! Calomyr!”
His chest quivered with effort as he fought to take in a breath. He was still alive,somehow. His eyes fluttered open, immediately finding mine.
“I’m here,” I whispered, reaching to the gash on my cheek that was still bleeding and smearing it against his stubbled jaw. He was going to be okay. The strike hadn’t killed him, and I was here now. I was going to heal him and he was going to be okay.
His brows were furrowed, like it took every ounce of concentration to speak. “It’s okay. I’m already gone.”
“No, I’m here. You have my blood, you–” I choked on a sob, waiting for my power to take hold of him and piece him back together from the inside. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I’m…” He fought to suck in a painfully labored breath. “The Sanguilite has me already. She’s…holding the door.”
“What?” I searched his eyes, and I saw it. There, in the sapphire and emerald depths of those beautiful eyes, was the silhouette of a woman. She had no distinguishing features, but I knew it was her. The Sanguilite. Almost as if it were a reflection, like that’s what Cal was seeing now.
No. No, no,no. This wasn’t his time to go. Not yet. Malosym was dead, and I was alive. Cal needed to be alive, too.
“This is a wound you can’t fix,” he breathed, and there was a rattle in his chest.
“You listen to me, Belin Cal Myrin. You willnotdie. Do you hear me? You tell the Sanguilite she can go fuck herself. You tell her I was powerful enough to kill Malosym and I’ll fucking kill her too!” I shook his shoulders. “Tell her!”
“Petra.”
