Page 41 of The Last of the Dark Lords

"No time, Skye. Go get Manod."

"But—"

"Please. I'm dying."

His words were a knife to the gut. Had Grandmother lied to me? There wasn’t time to consider it. I took off at a sprint down the hall. Manod's quarters were two floors below us. My bare feet slapped against the cold stone as I ran.

When I reached the stairwell to go down to him, he emerged from the doorway. His eyes bored into me.

"I felt it. Come on."

He stalked down the hallway at a speed belying his old age.

“Is he really dying?" I asked.

"Yes." Manod sighed. "I told him this would happen. He had hoped you wouldn’t make this choice. Or at least that you would talk to him first."

"How did he know?"

"The Crown of Seeing. The future isn't fixed, but the artifact can show the possible outcomes. This was the one it always came back to."

"But—"

Manod shook his head sharply as he reached for the doorknob. He went to Cyrus' side, while I stood back, helpless and guilty. And angry.

"Are you ready, my lord?" Manod raised his hands over Cyrus' head.

"Wait. Give me a moment with Skye."

Manod stepped back and turned to me. His eyes were dark, and his voice was tight with anger. "Hurry. You’re out of time."

I stepped up to Cyrus, and he reached out for me, although his sight was still transfixed forward. I kneeled beside the bed.

"I'm so sorry. I..." The words stuck in my throat.

"Shh. I know." He grasped my upper arm, but his grip felt weak to me. "Kiss me."

I couldn't deny him. I leaned over and pressed my lips to his, and I couldn't hold back my tears. They fell from my eyes onto his cheeks, running down until we tasted salt in the kiss.

Cyrus broke it off. "That's enough. No more tears. I need you to do what Manod says."

"But I—"

Cyrus shook, moaning low. Manod pushed me out of the way. Placing both palms on Cyrus' forehead, he poured bright white light from his hands. Cyrus' face was bathed in it, and after a moment the tremors subsided. He went completely still.

I was scared to speak. I was stuck, unable to help and overwhelmed with the knowledge that this had been my fault. That I had misread the situation, that my judgment was fundamentally flawed. Still, I had to understand what was happening.

"Is he dead?" My voice cracked as I forced the words from my lips.

"No." Manod removed his hands. "I've bought him some time. Not a lot, not more than an hour. That will have to be enough."

"What do we do?"

"Not we. It's whatyoumust do."

I shook my head. Guilt, confusion, and anger warred inside me. I didn’t think I would ever feel settled again.

"We worried that your grandmother might push you into doing something like this. I had hoped that once the wedding ritual was complete, the soul bond might give you pause, might make you reconsider any plans of betrayal.”

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