“Hespera gives us as many chances as we need,” Lio said. “Here is your next one. Use it well.”
And then he released her mind. She faded before his eyes in a swirl of black feathers.
As Miranda advanced onLio’s body, Cassia stepped in front of him. Blood ran fresh inside Hespera’s Rose, circling his still form. She fed the libations of past heretics to the Lustra and conjured black roses around her Grace.
“I will—” Kallikrates declared again. But his deep, commanding tone faded into Miranda’s own voice.
“I will—” she said. “I…will…”
Her relic dagger fell from her hand. The ancient stone artifact struck the floor and shattered into pieces.
The strength seemed to drain from her limbs. She stumbled forward into the Ritual circle and fell against Cassia.
Stunned, Cassia caught Miranda in her arms and eased her to the ground. Hoarse gasps wracked Miranda’s body. She looked up at Cassia with fear and wonder and a question in her eyes. Just as on the day her necromancy had awoken and she had turned to Cassia to help her understand.
Her aura was pure. In that moment, she felt like the friend Cassia had once cherished. Cassia unclenched her hands from around her foci.
Lio had saved them both.
“What”—Miranda panted—“is happening—to me?”
Mak and Lyros drew near, their weapons at the ready, the hounds growling at their sides.
“It’s all right,” Cassia told them all. She stroked Miranda’s hair. “You’re going to be all right.”
Cassia didn’t know if that was true. Miranda’s mortal body was covered in wounds only an Overseer could withstand. Had Lio restored her mind, only for the injuries of their physical battle to end her?
But if that was to be Miranda’s fate, she would die free.
Cassia rocked her friend in her arms. She hoped her words would finally reach Miranda’s heart, now that the Collector no longer ruled it. “I’m so sorry I betrayed you. I want you to know how much remorse I feel. I wish I could change our past. But I’m here for you now. I won’t leave you.”
Miranda clung to her. “Cassia…?”
She hadn’t heard Miranda say her name like that in ten years.
The blood in the Ritual circle stirred. Mak sucked in a breath.
Lyros took a step back. “Cassia, is that your magic?”
“No. Could it be…?”
The circle pulsed with a myriad of magic left behind by all who had cast spells in defense of Hagia Boreia. Lio’s thelemancy. Apollon’s stone magic. And the healing affinity of Anastasios, their martyred foregiver.
As blood soaked into Miranda’s necromancer robes, her wounds eased away. She drew one last deep breath, like a drowning girl breaking the surface at last.
Then a shock passed through her. Her gaze darted between Cassia, Mak, and Lyros. Recognition lit Miranda’s eyes, then fear. She began to struggle.
Cassia released her, holding up her hands in a reassuring gesture. “You’re free. Go somewhere safe where you can heal. Please, Miranda. Stay safe. Be well.”
Miranda backed away, a lifetime of emotions reanimating her aura. A caw sounded from the sky, and her crow swooped down into her arms. With her familiar nestled against her chest, she disappeared.
“She traversed,” Lyros said in astonishment. “She still has her magic.”
Lio didn’t merely save people. He made them whole. Cassia leaned over her Grace and took his face in her hands.
Lio? It’s over. You won. It’s safe to come back to us now.
Cassia!His arcane call sent a chill through her blood and pulled her in the depths of his mind.