Page 198 of Flame and Sparrow

Suddenly I knew what memory he was trying to squeeze away—the same one he’d recounted for me that day he took me to his siblings’ memorials.

How many times had he relived the memory of his sister dying in his arms?

At least as many times as I’d relived the memory of finding my sister’s blood in her bed, I imagined.

“I tried not to care about you, either,” he continued, “but it still happened. And when things started to unravel—when I wasn’t sure I could protect you any longer—I thought it would be easier to send you away.”

The already small room felt smaller, suddenly, the world down once more to only me and him, to my hands working gently over his wounds, to the confessions tumbling softly but steadily from his lips.

“But as soon as you left, I only felt worse,” he said. “Because there is no place that’s safe for you, as you said earlier.”

“No. There isn’t,” I agreed, voice thick with emotion. “But I feel safest here. And I know I said I don’t care if you send me away, but that isn’t true, I…”

“Sending you away once nearly broke me,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I could do it a second time.”

“So you’re stuck with me until the end, it seems.”

“There are worse fates, I’m sure.”

Blushing, I returned my attention to his wound, finishing the work of dressing it. But thoughts ofthe endcontinued to eat away at me.

“I still can’t see that ending clearly,” I said.

He sighed again. “Nor can I.”

“What are we going to do? The barrier between realms may be stable and relatively calm now, but it won’t last. I saw the attack building on the other side. And I’ve witnessed the full depth of Andrel’s delusion and plans, now—though I still don’t know just how many weapons and allies he truly has at his disposal. I’m afraid to think about it.”

I rose to my feet, suddenly overcome with a violent disdain for myself and all the problems I’d caused.

“I feel so stupid for trusting him.”

“You are not stupid.”

“And yet it feels like the world is crashing down because of the decisions I’ve made. I’ve given your enemies exactly what they need to hurt you. I was too slow to realize you were not the one I should have been fighting against all this time, and now…”

“It hasn’t all come crashing down,” he replied, calmly. “Not yet.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

He didn’t argue against this.

“Can’t the Moraki intervene? Won’t they?” I had never truly put my faith in a higher power for anything, but I was suddenly desperate for such a power to swoop in and fix all of this, somehow.

But Dravyn shook his head. “The three of them have been arguing about this matter since it began—that’s the reason for the signs of unrest we’ve witnessed. They don’t typically involve themselves in mortal realm matters, though. They created us Marr, and granted us dominion over that realm, so that we could deal with these things on their behalf.”

“But this could undo the entire structure of multiple realms,” I said. “It seems like they should make an exception and do something about it.”

He shrugged. “And perhaps they will before the end—but I wouldn’t count on it.”

I went back to the desk and started to scribble notes and sketches, trying and failing to think of more solutions. Dravyn and I talked for the next half hour about all the different battles closing in around us, and I told him the things I’d learned about my sister, the veil, the weapons—all of it.

We weren’t drawing any closer to any answers, though, and I was growing frustrated when the sound of a familiar voice drifted in from outside.

Mairu.

I stepped out of the room and spotted her speaking with Rieta at the end of the hallway. She caught sight of me, sighed in relief, hurried my direction and wrapped me in a light hug. There were tears shining in her golden eyes when she pulled away, I thought, but she averted her gaze and blinked them away before I could get a closer look.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said.

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