Page 153 of Skalterra By Nightmare
“Get it over with, Galahad,” Ferrin pressed. “I need to check on my niece, and I’m sick of looking at this traitor.”
“I’m not going to fight anymore,” I said. “Orla nearly died to save me. If I have to die to save her, if that’s what it takes to get you to listen, then fine. I die.”
Galahad remained frozen with his sword against my throat.
“Galahad!” Tiernan’s cry echoed through the chamber, and I dared to twist around so I could see Tiernan helping to hoist Caitria into the room. Her hair was tussled, and scrapes covered her arms, but she was alive and standing. “Caitria!”
Tiernan threw himself at her, sobbing and wrapping her in an embrace that she didn’t return. Instead, she cast Ferrin a wild look of panic through her mess of hair. She brought a careful hand to the back of Tiernan’s neck.
“Shhh,” she crooned. “It’s alright. I’m here.”
Golden electricity sparked between her fingers. Tiernan cried out, convulsed, and fell, landing with a thud at Caitria’s feet, either unconscious or dead. It was impossible to tell which.
“Tiernan!” I tried to get up to rush to help him, but a soft gasp rattled behind me.
When I turned back to Galahad, he had an emerald blade sticking out of his chest.
“Then I suppose that’s that.” Ferrin pulled his sword back out through Galahad’s back and let it dissipate.
“No!”
“Wren Warrender. I—” Galahad’s voice grated over my name. Blood bubbled between his lips, spilling into his silver beard, and his eyes turned glassy. He reached out for me with a gnarled hand, and then lurched forward.
I tried to catch him.
If I could catch him, I could undo this. I could stop Ferrin. I could keep Galahad alive.
But Galahad’s body fell through mine as I collapsed into dust and darkness.
35. Structural Fundamentals
I fell through the darkness, searching for the tether that had existed between me and Galahad just a moment before. The tether that had dragged me back to Skalterra night after night. The tether that had frayed and burst when Ferrin’s sword had run Galahad through.
A different bond reached out towards my collapsing consciousness, and I reached back. Ciarán’s presence buzzed weakly in my periphery. I tried to yell his name, but I didn’t have a mouth. I was a collection of dust swirling in the ether, but Ciarán’s magick, as weakened as it was, surged through my particles, and my form snapped back into place.
A dull glow cut the darkness, and I sprung upright.
“Galahad!” I didn’t know where I’d landed, but I couldn’t be dead. I had a body, shaky and sweaty, but alive. I stared at my hands in the dark, trying to see the scars Galahad had left on my palm.
They were there. I couldn’t see them butthey were there. They had to be. I refused to believe they weren’t.
Because if they were gone, then so was Galahad. And if Galahad was gone, Ferrin would kill Orla and Fana, which was terrible in and of itself, but it also meant Ferrin would come bursting through the barrier between our worlds and continue to hurt the people I loved.
So the scars had to be there, as smooth and unscarred as my hand looked. Maybe they were hiding beneath my skin.
I clawed at my palm, ignoring the bite of my nails, unable to see through the haze of hot tears that spilled down my cheeks.
“Galahad,please!” I was alive, but the world was collapsing around me. I’d fought so hard. I’d made it across Skalterra, I’d fought Grimguards and rotsbane, I’d carried Orla up the inside of a mountain.
And I’d lost.
Blood and skin gathered under my fingernails, but I kept digging at my hand. I needed to find the scars. I needed to prove to myself that Galahad was alive. Everything was okay.
“Wren!” Hands, strong and gentle, tried to stop my frantic clawing. I shoved them off, screaming in protest. “Wren, it’s okay!”
Liam’s face took shape in the dark, catching the dull green glow of a digital clock. He had my wrists in his hands and perched in front of me. The mattress beneath us sank under our combined weight, and the unfamiliar corners and lines of the dark room started to take shape around me.
I was still in Liam’s bedroom, on his bed, tangled in his comforter.
