Splendor broke her mind.
Her body was robbed of power, her abilities stunted. Her memories withered.
She and the baby continued on, floating as worlds bloomed and waned. Before her lids finally slid shut, she saw the universe reflected in an infant’s half-closed eyes. . . .
Awakening. Can’t feel my limbs!
After unending silence, she screamed, thrashing her legs. She jerked upright, banging her head against something. Crystal shattered all around her. Foreign sounds pained her sensitive ears. She hissed at the bright yellow light above.
Where am I? How have I come to be here? Ah, gods, who am I?
Movement in her arms. What was it? She opened her cloak to reveal a little infant just waking, blinking at her with hazel eyes, and all she knew was . . .
Love.
Her mother had given Thad to her! He and Jo had crossed the entire universe together. It couldn’t end like this! She gasped out, “Thaddie.” She reached for him, grasping, grasping—as she had fourteen years ago.
He stalked closer.
She couldn’t maintain her telekinesis against Rune for much longer. He was fighting so hard! “Thaddie . . .”
“Us. Thad-de-us. That’s my name.”
Air. Need air. Rune was breaking free. “Thad . . . pack.”
Thad’s brows drew together, his outline flickering. “What did you say?” The chokehold eased.
“Brother! Here . . . to save you.”
He released her with a yell. “Are you . . . Jo?” He traced to her, catching her just as her vision went dim.
SIXTY-FIVE
Freed from Josephine’s telekinesis, Rune traced to Thaddeus. “Hand her over to me.” He was all but begging with his bow shouldered and his palms up.
Thad ghosted with his unconscious sister in his arms, making her intangible as well. Rune couldn’t snatch her away. He’d never wanted to fight so badly. Never had so many reasons why he couldn’t.
The boy’s eyes darted. “Who the hell are you?” As soon as Thad had figured out Josephine’s identity, he’d gone from attacking to protecting her.
“I’m her mate,” Rune rasped. “Give her to me.”
When the other Møriør flanked Rune—in battle positions—Thad hissed.
Valkyries screamed from inside: “Bring her back to us!” “You won!” “You took that bitch down!”
Baring his fangs, Thad pulled Josephine closer to him.
Sounding as calm and reasonable as ever, Blace said, “We won’t hurt you, boy. We mean no harm to you or your sister.”
Allixta said telepathically, —Speak for yourself. He bares his fangs at Møriør?— An iridescent green light filled her palms.
—Can you hold him?— Rune asked her. —Without hurting him? Please, witch! He could trace her anywhere in the universe.—
She raised her hands, and slender tendrils of green slithered around Thad, through him, but he didn’t seem to feel them, just gazed on warily.
—Amazing,— Allixta said. —Even one of my power can’t touch a shapeshifter like him.—
The boy’s mouth dropped open when Curses joined them. The creature wound between the Møriør, its movements predatory.
—Control your beast, Allixta!— Rune eased closer to Thad. “Brother, I need you to . . . just give her to me.”
“Not a chance, mister. It looked like she was using telekinesis to keep you away.”
“I need to explain some things to her. And she’s injured. She must feed from me.”
Thad was on the verge of tracing.
“Wait! Please! If you go, take this.” Rune drew out his talisman. “Give it to her. I want her to have it.”
Sian muttered aloud, “Hells.”
The others understood the significance of the talisman. It had always reminded Rune to look toward the future; Josephine is my future. “She’ll know what it means.” He tossed it to Thad.
The boy caught it telekinetically, pulling it to his hand. Then he traced his sister away.
“Gods damn it!” Rune yelled. “I have no idea where he will take her.” He leveled his gaze on Val Hall, on the wraiths that had resumed their guard. —Nïx will know.— He unstrapped his bow, nocking the phoenix arrow.
—There are more than just Valkyries inside,— Sian said. —Orion hasn’t officially declared war on any of these factions yet.—
—Neutralize the wraiths, and then we’ll reevaluate.— Welcome counsel from Blace. —After all, the arrow might not work.—
—Use the arrow to reach your target, then destroy her,— Allixta said. —As you told Orion you would do weeks ago. Have you forgotten your mission?—
Rune drew the bowstring past his chin. No shot was more important than this one. He was as nervous as he’d been when first going to battle with a bow.
A flash memory of Orion: “Make your first shot count, archer. You’ll remember it for the rest of your immortal life.”
Rune had; Rune did.
—Let your arrow fly,— Blace murmured.
Rune relaxed his string fingers to loose the most perfect arrow he’d ever fired. On any other occasion, his heart would’ve soared at the precision of its flight.
Now he only wanted destruction. He got it.
The shockwave slammed into him, nearly laying him out. Sian shielded Allixta; Blace traced past the blast. Darach growled at it. Curses dug its claws into the ground.