Page 72 of The Realm That Falls to Her

The seemingly endless rows of interconnected chambers dwindle until I’m walking down a single, long corridor without diversions or offshoots. I’m reaching the end of Ruskin’s memory, I can feel it, but darkness waits for me up ahead—a gnarled mass of shadows thicker than the rest. This is where they’ve been fleeing to, their last refuge within Ruskin’s mind—and, I suspect, their source. Behind the forest of vines, I’m sure I’ll find Ruskin’s memories of Interra.

I look at the blade, willing it to be strong and sharp for me now. If it’s powered by the bond, then I figure I can help it along, and I close my eyes, concentrating. I try to pour all my love for Ruskin, all my desire to help him, into the sword. It vibrates in my hands, and I can see its light through my eyelids even before I open them again. When I do, it’s almost too bright to look at, so instead I focus on the knotted vines in front of me. Letting my muscles work on instinct, I hack back the shadows. The vines fight harder this time, jerking violently when I slice them, and even lashing out at me, but I’m quick, cutting them off at the root, until the last of them are slithering beyond the archway I’ve revealed, into the gray light I recognize as belonging to Interra.

I chase them down, my feet thudding along the pathway, past the ghostly shapes of the space between realms.

You won’t get away from me, I think viciously.

I have to make sure there’s no trace of them left, freeing Ruskin from Interra’s insidious magic once and for all.

I don’t have to go far to find the core of this memory. As I crest a hill, I see Evanthe and Ruskin locked in the same fight I saw the beginning of on the banks of Irnua. Being taken through the portal didn’t stall them much. I watch as Evanthe furiously conjures a curse which Ruskin blocks with his sword.

The vines of shadow are rushing towards them, attracted to Evanthe’s power, but aiming for Ruskin too. This must have been how Interra’s magic struck them both, infecting Ruskin, blocking off his memories, even as it latched onto the dark magic within Evanthe. Naturally, I focus on the vines crawling towards Ruskin.

The pair fight on, unable to change their fate, playing out the past as I try to change Ruskin’s future. I’m not afraid of hurting him as I cut at the shadows swirling round his feet, the echo of him simply passes straight through me like a ghost. The shadows try to escape me, burrowing against the ground and hissing like snakes.

I release a cry of anger as I stab at the final shreds of them. It comes from somewhere deep within me, a place that wants revenge for what Interra has done to all of us—Ruskin, me, even Evanthe, who is stronger and crueler because of this place’s cursed power.

As I make the noise, my blade puts out a final burst of light, burning straight through the last of the shadows and illuminating the entire scene in a single powerful surge. I see Ruskin, still fighting, but free of shadow, glowing as if lit from within. Then I look to Evanthe, and as the light hits her, the memory reveals something I couldn’t see before.

Evanthe’s heart isn’t just filled with dark magic. Something else is lodged there, and it has been for a long time.

Before I can get a closer look, she and Ruskin vanish from view. The light of my sword fades, the scene returning to the eerie pallor of Interra’s sunless plain. Tiredness suddenly overwhelms me, swelling in my mind and pressing against my brain. The fight is won, I’m sure of it, and I don’t resist the exhaustion that beckons me, tugging me away from Ruskin’s mind, drawing me back towards the real world.

Maidar’s chanting is audible in my ears once more, though his voice sounds hoarser than before. The darkness swallows up my vision for another moment or two, then it shrinks, fading around me. When I blink, I’m back to staring into the black pupils of my naminai as he sits across from me in our bedroom.

And he’s smiling at me in a way I haven’t seen for weeks—the smug, knowing look I’ve become so used to.

Ruskin. My Ruskin.

My heart thuds, and I still don’t dare to assume, as Maidar’s chanting grinds to a halt. He coughs, clearing his throat after casting for so long, and then asks the question running through my own mind.

“Well? Did it work?”

Ruskin reaches his hand out to me so he can pull me up onto my feet. His yellow-green eyes don’t leave my face, and his smile stays firmly in place, as he says the two words I’ve been through hell to hear:

“I remember.”

Chapter 21

Iopen my eyes to see the midday sun streaming across the bedroom ceiling. After my exploration of Ruskin’s mind, I’d been desperate to talk to him…but not quite as desperate as I’d been to sleep. Based on the position of the sun, I can’t have been out for more than a few hours, but fresh energy fizzes under my skin, along with excitement, as I look over to see Ruskin stood with his back to me, staring out the window.

He looks reflective, locked so deeply in thought that I wonder if it’s overwhelming in its own way, having so much memory—so much life—come rushing back to you all at once.

He barely has time to turn around before I scramble out of bed and throw myself at him. He catches me in his arms with a light laugh and doesn’t waste words, pulling me close to kiss me, hard. I feel light as air while our lips fight to claim each other, and still I don’t know if I can quite believe it.

“Do you remember me, really?” I whisper, my face still close to his. “Who I am, what we are? All of it?”

His eyes tighten, like the doubt in my voice causes him pain.

“Of course. All of it. You are Ella, my Gold Weaver, so beautiful and brilliant you’ve rescued me twice over from the darkness of Interra, and won my heart twice over too.” There’s a thoughtful look on his face, and for a moment, I see a flash of the memory-shrouded Ruskin I pulled through the Interra portal. It’s strange, but comforting, to think that both versions still exist, both inside one man.

“Now you say it, you really do like to make me work for it, don’t you?” I tease.

“On the contrary,” he says, brushing my hair over my shoulders to expose my neck. He lowers his lips to my ear, murmuring the rest of his answer so that a jolt of desire runs through me.

“I find there’s an utter inevitably to it all,” he says. “You’d always have my heart, because you’re mine, destined for me, my naminai, and I yours.”

If I had any resistance to him, the possessiveness of his words would have banished it. As it is, my legs are already weak beneath me. I lean into where his hand has dropped suggestively to my hip, as he traces my jaw with his mouth.

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