Page 142 of Her Soul for a Crown
“It is better than being tortured for eternity,” Sohon said.
“We shall all be free,” Kama sang. “Together, each and every one of us.”
The words rippled through his shadow. All he desired, he had this entire time. And he always would.
They knew not what final death meant, whether it be nonexistence or transcendence outside of the Heavens. The cosmos had never said. But whatever it was, mayhap it was the same for humans and one day, when she passed, Anula would be there, too.
“Do you wish to take them all to their graves?” Wessamony growled. “This, too, shall be entirely your fault.”
“My only fault,” Reeri shouted, “was ever listening to you.”
Reeri gripped the Bone Blade and lunged.
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Final death.
The words rang in Anula’s head, above the cacophony of the Kattadiya and the soldiers, of those under Wessamony’s curse and those fleeing from them, above the swishing of the sword as it tried to catch the tail of what had once been a great Divinity. They bit at the mehendhi elephant on her palm and sank their teeth on the last remaining piece of her markings.
No.She skidded to a halt. Though she knew she’d chosen who she wanted to be, how she wanted to act, she hadn’t realized she’d chosen something else, too.Someoneelse. And if he met final death…
Her heart squeezed.
“Anula.” A voice blew past. Not Reeri’s or Bithul’s or any of the Yakkas’.
“Anula.” It called again, loud and then soft. As if it were there and then far away. As if it were circling above. Anula looked up through the haze. The golden eyes of the Makara challenged her. “Act.”
Her shoulders tensed. Reeri was still arguing with Wessamony, but if she closed the distance, if she placed her hand atop Reeri’s and the dagger—he’d be gone.
The Makara flashed into Divine form and descended to the floor. The Great Sword dove. Fate lifted a boulder, and the sword rang out as it embedded, the rock a scabbard it couldn’t escape. They tossed it aside. “I grant you permission to use my Bone Blade, Anula.”
“I can’t—I—” The words stuck.
“Do not let fear cloud your vision or sour your heart. Only you can fan the flames of the dream you hold inside.”
The boulder erupted into shards as the Great Sword broke through. Fate fled, the ends of their long braid caught by its tip. The dust cleared as they swept away, and Anula saw him. Eyes full of longing and a question burning bright, Reeri stared at her. He pressed the Bone Blade, and his life, against the planes of Wessamony’s chest. He paused there, for the same reason Anula’s heart had skipped a beat.
Final death.
And as his brow tightened, she realized what Reeri was asking, what he was saying. This time, it wasn’t only him who had a decision. This time, he wanted her to have a choice, too.
If Anula were any other girl, she might have told him to wait, to stay, but she wasn’t. They had both dreamed of this; they had both chosen this. And in a perfect world, they would have chosen each other, too. The truth of it echoed in her heart, swelled bright in her soul, and mirrored in Reeri’s eyes. She didn’t need to touch him to see.
But the kingdom was far from perfect; only they could give it the chance to be perfect for others. Still. Reeri was giving them both a gift: the freedom of choice.
Heart heavy and threatening to rupture, she shouted, “Reeri!”
“Anula!” he called back.
Her name on his lips ached all the way down. Yet she mustered a smirk. “Do you want to talk about it?”
A sob broke Reeri’s frame. The pinch between his brows faded. “I lov—”
Wessamony reached out, one clawed hand on Reeri’s throat and the other on the blade.
Anula didn’t think. She charged.
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