Page 189 of Curse of Darkness
“Evil is a choice,” I whisper, squeezing Thiago’s hand desperately.
“You’re not evil,” he tells me, his hair whipping back in the wind that stirs toward us. “You are the light in my heart, the light of the stars conjured in the Darkness. You can do this, Vi. You can defeat him. With me.”
The Horned One stalks toward us, his gaze locked on my face, then on our hands. “I wondered,” he says, in a melodious voice so beautiful that I can almost hear the song of the Hallows within it, “when I saw you last. It was a shock to emerge into this world and see you try and wrench that Hallow from me.” He shakes his head, his lip curling. “If this is the Mother of Night’s last gambit, then it is a poor one. Step aside, child, and I’ll let you live. I need that Hallow.”
“You’re lying.” Because in all the books, that’s what he does. “And even if you let me live, then you would kill all those I hold dear.”
Dark lashes blink slowly over his soulless eyes.
And then he smiles.
“Very well.” Raising a fist, he brings it down with a jerk.
Lightning flashes, striking the ground between us.
The earth erupts, power ripping through it like some kind of subterranean leviathan angling directly for us. For the Hallow.
There’s barely time to react.
Thiago shoves me out of the way, both of us sprawling aside as a chasm opens right through the center of the Hallow. His hard body comes over mine, protecting me instinctively.
Hot, golden light spills forth from the Hallow’s center, streaming toward the darkening sky. It’s raw power hammering along the ley lines and spilling free into the world.
“Move!” Thiago roars, glancing up as scarlet lightning writhes overhead.
We roll apart as it strikes the very spot where we were standing. The acrid scent of burned slate fills the air.
Thiago cuts me one last desperate look, his dark hair whipping forward over his face as wisps of shadow and smoke stream toward his right hand. “Get out of here.”
“What?” I came here for the Hallow. Without it, all is lost.
“Get out of here!” His gaze rakes over the gaping crevice. “The Hallow’s unstable. He’s torn it open. You can’t use it. Not like this.” His voice drops low, an inescapable truth in his eyes. “I can slow him down.”
“No. You don’t get to sacrifice yourself again,” I retort, my wind whipping past my face. “You promised me. This time we would do it together.”
He cuts a vicious look toward the Horned One, and I know what he’s thinking.
Without the Hallow, we don’t stand a chance.
The Horned One laughs. “Ah, true love. I wonder…. Does he make such an offer because he cannot stand to see his lover wounded? Or does he make it because it’s easier? Because this was always to be his fate… to die in the dirt like the sniveling, bastard-born wretch he is.”
“Don’t listen to him.” I bend low, pressing my palm to the slate surface, trying to feel how stable the Hallow is. Tornadoes of power sweep around me, wild and off-balance. It’s bleeding raw magic, on the verge of implosion. But there has to be a way. “The Horned One was always a liar.”
Balance,the Mother said.
There’s no point trying to force the Hallow’s whirlwind of power to my command. I stroke the stone, easing it, siphoning some of it off, sending it streaming toward connecting Hallows.
“He’ll kill you, you know,” the Horned One sneers. “It’s what his kind does.” He focuses all his hatred upon Thiago. “And he knows it. It’s why he doesn’t dare leave himself alone in the room with your daughter. Why he barely dares touch her. Will you still love him when he brings about her ruin? Because he won’t be able to help himself.”
Thiago freezes.
“That’s not true.” I slide my hand up the back of his calf. “My love for him is unquenchable. And if he suffers such moments—if he finds himself lost in the Darkness—then I will always be there for him, to help guide him back. I will be his light in the Darkness. I will stand by him through every storm. And I will help him fight, even if he faces Death himself. Because I believe in him. I know he can fight this battle. I know he will never hurt our daughter. Because helovesher.”
Thiago’s gaze jerks to mine, and for a second his eyes bleed black. I’m not staring into his face anymore, but into the cold, emotionless mask of Death itself.
Or no, not emotionless….
There’s a look there, a certain shift to his eyes.
