Page 90 of Storm of Shadows

While following a wraith back to the fortress of an undead orcish necromancer isn’t the wisest of plans, I’m not sure what other options we have. “Well, I agree it isn’t the best of ideas, but—“

“But what?” Natharius growls. “In case you’ve forgotten, there is a necromancer on the loose who possesses part of the Lich Lord’s soul and seeks to free him from the icy tomb I sealed him inside a thousand years ago.”

I can also hear the words he leaves unsaid: That Arluin seeks to undo what he sacrificed everything for.

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” I snap, placing my hands on my hips and returning Natharius’s ferocious stare. After all, how can I forget that Arluin, the man responsible for destroying all I loved, draws breath? That my home, my people, are unavenged? “But I can’t leave someone at the mercy of a necromancer! An undead one at that!”

“Why not? He’s mortal. All you mortals are destined to die.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, demon.”

“You’re even more useless than I thought. Useless and stupid. Only a fool would fail to see this mortal’s life is not worth saving. Some sacrifices are necessary.”

I fold my arms across my chest and stand my ground, refusing to let myself be riled by his insults. “Is that what you told yourself when you sacrificed your kingdom for an army of demons?”

Fury rages across his alabaster face, far more volatile than it was back at the lake. In fact, I’m certain the Void Prince is moments from bursting into flames. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, mortal.” He hisses the final word as though it’s the gravest of insults. “But know this: Had I not made the choices I made, had I not sacrificed all I sacrificed, you would never have been born. Nor your father, his father, his grandfather. Only thanks to me do you mortals draw breath.”

The Void Prince’s furious stare doesn’t relent. I glare back at him, unwilling to yield. For a moment, I’m so focused on scowling at Natharius I almost forget the others are there. And the goblin wraith and its skeletal companions.

“Natharius isn’t wrong,” Taria says, stepping between the two of us. “Though it pains me to say, one life cannot be deemed more important than the lives of the entire world.”

Horror flashes in Caya’s eyes, soon replaced by pain. She stumbles back, clutching her chest as though Taria shoved a blade through her heart. “You . . .” She chokes on the word. “You can’t mean that? He’s my brother! He sees you as family too! We can’t abandon him!”

Taria closes her eyes, heaving out a deep breath. “I am the First Disciple of Grand Priestess Elunar. I have no family, except the Mother and all of Selynis.” Taria chants the words like a prayer. They seem more intended for herself than for Caya.

Caya shakes her head. “No, you can’t mean this. Not after all these years.”

Though Taria opens her eyes, she doesn’t look at Caya as she speaks. “All of Imyria is at stake. If we fail, if the necromancers recover all three rings and unseal the Lich Lord from his tomb . . .” Taria doesn’t need to finish that sentence. We all know exactly what the consequences will be if Arluin and his necromancers succeed: Imyria will no longer be known as the mortal plane of existence but instead the realm of the dead.

A solemn silence falls over us. Even Natharius doesn’t speak. His jaw remains clenched.

The goblin wraith glances between us and shrugs her translucent shoulders. “I’ll tell the master that you won’t be visiting him then. I’m sure he’ll find some use for the prisoner.”

I swallow down the bile surging up within me. Everything about this decision screams wrongness, but I can’t argue with what Taria and Natharius said. We don’t know what will happen if we follow this wraith back to its master’s fortress, nor do we know how much time we will lose, even if we are successful in rescuing Juron from the necromancer’s clutches. Saving him could mean losing everything. The entire world.

I lower my head, the burden of the decision weighing on my shoulders.

Sometimes sacrifices need to be made. But is this sacrifice one too great? Will I be able to live with the guilt of knowing that I left someone to die, even if it was for the sake of the world?

The wraith waits a moment longer before slipping through the trees. “Very well,” her hollow voice calls. “I’ll tell the prisoner myself that his friends abandoned him. Before we kill him, of course.”

“Wait!” Caya cries. “I’ll meet with your master!”

The wraith pauses, and the two skeletons halt as she raises her spectral hand. “You can come, but the master will have no interest in you, other than your corpse. At least you’ll be reunited with your brother in undeath.”

Caya’s fists tighten. She glances back at us, desperation plastered across her face. Her dark eyes silently beg us to join her.

What am I doing, forcing someone to abandon their brother? I know all too well the agony of losing those I love, of having their corpses reanimated as undead. How can I subject Caya to the same torture I have suffered?

I grit my teeth, my decision made. I can only hope this won’t prove a mistake. That this choice won’t cost me everything.

“Is it the Void Prince you want?” I demand, my eyes narrowing as I gaze at the goblin wraith and her skeletal companions.

“Yes, along with the sorcerer who summoned him from the Abyss and bound him to their soul.” The wraith’s pale eyes flicker across us as she examines us all. “Which appears to be you.”

“Very well,” I say. “We’ll come with you to your master’s fortress.”

twenty-eight

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