Page 32 of The Immortal Covenant

Instead of answering, Malorg pressed a hand to the nearest wall. A thin, spidery crack of ethereal blue appeared—the rift opening onto the Shroud between worlds. Only then did Malorg face him, his ash-colored eyes fervent in the rift’s ghostly light.

“So long as we remain in the Immortal Realm, we live on borrowed time. Voidspawn, Pelorak, Darius—whether through death or discovery, the Covenantwilltear us apart.” Malorg turned toward the rift. Sarilian’s breath caught as the Infernal’s fingers hovered just above its shimmering surface. “The only way we get our happy ending is if we leave this Dark-cursed realm behind. Forget the Celestials and Infernals both. Let us seek out our own purpose. Together.”

Together. Sarilian trembled, a heady mix of terror, longing, and regret leaving him unbalanced. “You said that passing through the Shroud would destroy us. That it would rip an Immortal’s soul apart.”

Doubt briefly flickered over Malorg’s narrow features before hardening into resolve. “Remember our hunting trip in the Dusklands, when we ran into that nest of gliding voidspawn?” He waited for Sarilian’s hesitant nod before continuing. “I’ve been thinking about how that infusion of duskflame I gave you temporarily bolstered your body’s natural defenses. We might beable to use that same protective ward to shield us long enough to make the journey.”

Even as a part of him yearned to agree, Sarilian found himself shaking his head. “And what if you’re wrong? What if our conjoined magic isn’t enough, and the Shroud rips our souls apart?”

“It won’t—I won’t let it.” Bathed in soft azure light, Malorg held out a hand. A wavering smile graced his lips. “Besides, better a chance at happier-ever-after than waiting here for inevitable loss.”

Light help him, Sarilian allowed himself to consider it. If they survived the trip through the Shroud, they’d return to the Mortal Realm. No more voidspawn. No more Covenant. They couldbewhat they wanted,dowhat they wanted. Build a real life together instead of settling for a handful of stolen moments.

And yet…

Sarilian bowed his head. “You’re asking me to betray an oath I made during my mortal life—to forsake my sworn duty and my people.”

“Theyare the ones who forsakeus.”Footfalls echoed off the shifting gray street, and Sarilian glanced up sharply, meeting Malorg’s stormy eyes as he clutched Sarilian’s hand. “Don’t you see? This entire realm is nothing but an enormous prison, our supposed purpose a lie to trick us into throwing our lives away without complaint!”

“That’s what sacrificeis: to give oneself up for the benefit of others. My life as payment for those of millions of mortals sounds like a fair bargain to me.”

Malorg’s grip on his hand tightened. “No amount of lives is worth yours! And even if they were, your so-called sacrifice won’t save them. It can’t—not while we’re trapped in this endless cycle against an enemy we cannot hope to defeat. Any suffering we endure will be in vain.”

“Then, webreakthe cycle!” Sarilian tore his hand free. Too restless to remain still, he paced before the beckoning rift. “We try again to change things, just as you did once before. Your friend Pelorak sits on the Dusk Council. If you can convince him to listen—”

A bitter chuckle ripped from Malorg’s throat. “Pelorak isnotmy friend. He made that clear when he cared more about the hit to his reputation than Uryqh’s death. He won’t do anything unless he believes it’s in his own best interest.”

“Then, convince him it is!” Sarilian jerked to a halt, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Helpless frustration threatened to crush him. “Or better yet, seek a council seat yourself. That’s what you intended centuries ago, right? Once both of us are Aspects, we’d have the power to change things from the inside—to rewrite the Covenant as we saw fit. Instead of using our combined magic to flee, we could spread it to all Immortals and unite them against the Void.”

Malorg instantly shook his head. “They won’t listen. The mistrust between our peoples runs too deep.” An unreadable emotion flickered across his face. “Besides, who knows how long that would take? Council seats rarely switch hands, and even when they do, they go to the schemers like Pelorak, not to insignificant Immortals like you or me.”

“Well, we have to dosomething!”Sarilian took a deep, calming breath to rein in his growing frustration. “When we first met, I told you we’d find a way to accomplish the impossible.” He stepped toward Malorg as his words grew pleading. “I’m asking you to trust me again now. Don’t give up on us—on our duty.”

Malorg stiffened, his expression turning stony in an instant. “That’s all that matters to you, isn’t it?Duty.”He spat the word like a curse. “As if you have some moral obligation to throw your life away in defense of mortals you’ve never even met.”

“You said before that you admired my dedication—that youwantedme to prove your despondency misplaced.”

“I did—Ido.”Malorg turned toward the Shroud, his body taut with pent-up emotion. “But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to watch you make the same mistakes Uryqh and Pelorak did. I lost one of them to misguided faith and the other to blind ambition. If you truly wish to walk a similar path, perhaps you’re better off walking it alone.”

A tremor racked Sarilian, full of sorrow laced with panic and something horribly close to resignation. “That’s not fair, Mal. You can’t ask me to choose between you and my people. Between the Covenant and our love.”

Malorg jerked as if struck, and Sarilian bit his lip. It was the first time either of them had said the world aloud, and though he hadn’t meant for it to slip out, now that it had he prayed it would be enough to keep Malorg from pushing him away. His faint tendrils of hope withered when he saw the broken expression on Malorg’s face—his dull eyes and slumped shoulders.

“I’m not,” Malorg said, his gruff voice surprisingly gentle. “But we both know you already have. Dragging things out any longer will only hold you back.”

Duskflame seethed around the Infernal as he prepared to sink into the shadows. And yet, despite the finality of his words, he hesitated.

Hewantsme to stop him, Sarilian realized.To renew his hope.

It would be so easy. Sarilian could rush to him, reassure him that even if he wouldn’t abandon his people to brave the rift, that didn’t mean everything else they had needed to end. He could still attempt to balance his devotion to the Covenant with the future he and Malorg sought to build.

Sarilian’s foot took a shaky step toward Malorg as if of its own volition. Then, he thought of Darius. Of his own dream to someday sit upon the Dawn Council where he could enact themost good. Of the Covenant that bound his soul to this realm and the duty he felt obligated to fulfill as a result.

You are the shield that will keep them safe—the blade that shall strike down their foes!

Darius’ pre-battle words resonated throughout his core. The people of Allaria depended on Immortals like him to protect them from the horrors that dwelled within the Void. That Sarilian had even been tempted to run away proved Malorg’s admonitions—the Infernal was a distraction Sarilian could no longer afford. Not if he wanted to live up to his potential.

Sarilian bowed his head, clenching and unclenching his fists in a vain attempt to soothe the riot of emotions drowning him. “Until we meet again,” he whispered as Malorg sank into the shadows and faded away like so much smoke, taking a piece of Sarilian’s heart with him.

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