Page 97 of Still the Sun

At least I’ll die embracing him.

Chapter 31

I open my eyes to light. So many lights ...

Candles and lanterns around and above me, filling the room as though the sun has come down for a closer look. It’s too close, too hot. Burning, aching, a sharp contrast to the cold, swirling darkness in my core.

When I vomit, it comes up silver.

“Don’t touch her,” snaps a voice that sounds remarkably like Amlynn’s. It hurts. Her voice, the sound of footsteps, the rustling of clothes. Like they move inside my brain. A hand thumps against my back, and agony blasts shock waves through my ribs. I cough hard enough to vomit again. Less silver, this time.

“It will not kill me,” Heartwood protests, and some of the lights dim as he moves in front of them. His shadow mitigates the brightness and gives me a moment to orient myself. The tower, Ruin, sunset, silver. It hurt me, in those depths. I’m not sure how long we fought, but Ruin didn’t steal my memories this time. They emerge sluggishly, piecing themselves together like Ancient artifacts. My artifacts.

“After that? Are you so sure?”

I blink silver from my eyes. Cough again. Try to ask what’s happening, but when I try to speak, I choke on silver.

“Let her purge,” Amlynn insists.

Farther away, Salki asks, “Is she all right?”

I don’t hear a response, only a sigh of relief. And suddenly warm hands on my face, tilting it up, smoothing wet hair back.

“I said don’t touch!” Amlynn barks. “You want to lose a finger? Damn it, I need more water!”

“Nophe,” Heartwood whispers.

I blink, his features coming into focus before me. Shadowed from the lanterns. So much fire is making the room unbearably warm, but I feel a little more myself with each shaky breath. A little more present.

Cold water gushes over my head. I start, gasp, shake. “What—”

Droplets splash off the amaranthine beneath me.

I freeze, staring at the smooth, pink, translucent floor, and the silvery pool beneath it. Run my hand over it, smearing water and silver droplets. It hugs the west side of Machine Five, spanning from the machine to the wall before curving down to meet with the floor. The other half of the space has only a few inches of acetic silver in it; Machine Four’s been rolled back, spilling the precious liquid into floor four. Pulling my gaze back, I notice Heartwood’s hand beside me, red and angry and blistered. Burns from acetic silver.

He pulled me out.

The lights, they’re from the others. From Emgarden. The pool. I was holding Moseus in the pool—

I look up, meeting Heartwood’s gaze. His luminescence has faded entirely. He looks like himself again. At least, the self I know. The self that has been away from the garden too long and grows sick with it.

My gaze crawls upward, past the lights, past the machine, to the indigo night above. Serpent save me ... did we succeed?

“It will not hold forever,” he says, quiet, tired. “I cannot reach help as I am now. We will have to make a beacon to summon the others.”

“Gods?” Amlynn asks.

He nods.

Gods.I examine the pink crystal beneath me. Trapping Ruin as his first prison did.

“You gave up your godhood,” I croak, still coughing. “You made this.”

Heartwood touches my face. Hushed enough that only I can hear, he whispers, “It was an easy choice. Thank you, Nophe. For this, and for the chance to try again.”

I swallow. Amlynn offers me a nearly empty water bladder, but I ignore it. “Try again?”

He kisses the side of my forehead, avoiding the injury at its center. “To finish what my sister started.”

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