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All she could see was red; she resisted the urge to glance down at her body.
He looked deeply into her eyes, as if speaking to her soul as he said honestly, “There isn’t anything wrong with wanting to live. It does come at a cost.”
He had paid every price for his freedom. He had paid every price to have a life of his own.
The words unlocked a groaning door inside her, and deeper tears bloomed in her eyes. Not tears of sadness, but of release.
“Do you want to exist?” he asked again.
She nodded.
The silence that followed felt infinite.
Chapter 21
Hands
IN THE WAKE of the proposition lay a crossroads. Each path led to some version of relief, and yet what lay beyond were unknowns. The only difference was that in the fear of impending death, there was also the reality that she would walk the path alone.
She’d at last been given the freedom to make the choice she wanted, and now knew with great clarity what choice she would make.
She’d resented her mother’s martyrdom and yet here she was, preparing to make the same decision.
“I can’t,” she said at last, her breathing quieter now. Her pain was lessening, but so was her energy.
Ryson searched her eyes as if he could see the reasons behind her objection. “You’d be able to get the medallion back to Loda. You’d be able to see your home again. You’re afraid of death.”
She didn’t reply, searching his face in the impending silence. She couldn’t deny the strength of her doubts. Ryson had objected more than anyone to the life of a Venennin. Her parents hadn’t even told her about them.
Now, it was Ryson who, with the presented stakes, offered theoption.
Was the process really so simple? Could it really be such a terrible life? If she did live, would it really be her that lived?
She wanted to live, and that resolve resonated through her body.
She half laughed and half choked in pain at the irony, tears flowing fully as she smiled at him.
Maybe he could already see the answer.
She didn’t want to die, but she would die anyway. Despite Ryson offering the choice to her, she’d freely given it back. It had been a mistake to go back and save him. It had cost her everything, but she couldn’t regret it because she had made that choice in alignment with something inside herself that felt true. She’d released control and burden of the outcome. It had been reckless and it had been foolish, but at last it had been her.
She accepted that now with a lingering sense of peace, and closed her eyes.
Clea’s pain faded completely. She waited for consciousness to follow, but instead clarity and energy breathed through her.
She blinked, searching Ryson’s face with the question, feeling a renewed aliveness in all her parts. Her hand drifted to her chest but found no wounds or tenderness.
Ryson eased away from her and stood up, searching the darkness around them as Clea leaned forward and took a full breath.
She inspected her body, touching every bloodied spot to find it healed.
“Ryson?” she whispered in concern, but his gaze was still focused on the darkness.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a wave of voices said in unison from the night.
Clea scrambled to her feet as they continued.
“I thought your soul had returned. Eyes crowned by the moon, pushing and pulling the tides. You proposition our path to the girl in the pattern of your old ways, and yet your killing has no class.”
