Page 129 of The Isles of the Gods
His face is an agony of indecision. But just as it seems he might move, the big magician rises to his feet, cradling his bloodied hand, and shakes his head.
Jude’s expression closes over, and he steps back into the shadows.
I gaze up at the empty balcony, willing him to come back, but he stays half-hidden. After a long moment I turn away to follow Leander out over the water, along the impossible path he’s created.
He leads me straight out onto the surface of the Still Waters,and it’s like I’m walking on glass—when I look down, I can see fish darting beneath my feet, but the water itself has no give at all. The islands form a ring before us, joined together by the reef to make a crown of jungled jewels. Behind me, Keegan whispers something to himself, and though I can’t make out the words, there’s awe in his tone.
Leander stumbles, and I keep hold of his hand, help him steady himself. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I twine my fingers through his.
I don’t know what he’s become, or where he’s leading us, but I know I’ll follow him.
I will not lose him.
I will not let him go.
JUDE
The Temple of the Mother
The Isles of the Gods
I could still run after them. They’d hear me, if I called out.
But Dasriel’s watching me, cradling his ruined hand, his breath rasping with pain.
And Laskia lies below us on the altar, finally still, her head turned to one side, her limbs splayed out carelessly.
Someone has to bring her home.Ihave to bring her home. Not because she’s earned that sort of kindness or deserves some special dignity. She gave up the right to that long ago.
No. It’s because my mother’s still in Port Naranda, and if Dasriel brings her body home alone, my mother will never see another doctor, will never know what became of me. Will never know why I let her die alone.
More likely than not, Ruby will have me killed anyway, but there’s at least a chance she’ll let me leave. Let me disappear with Mum, if I do this one thing for Laskia.
So I will. I can’t possibly go with Leander—not after everything I’ve done. I can never join with the three of them, because I can never be like them. Never again.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Dasriel finally manages. His hand—or what’s left of it—has soaked blood through his shirt, and I think he’s yanked his belt around his wrist to stop the bleeding. “Or are you planning on hauling her up here anytime soon?”
I make my way around the edge of the balcony and tentatively set one foot on the stone steps Leander—or whatever he became—left behind. Nothing happens, so I risk another step.
Slowly, heavily, I make my way down the stairs until I reach the bottom. Laskia’s not bloodied, not as broken as she could have been. If anything, she looks like she’s sleeping. I desperately don’t want to touch her, let alone try to lift her.
But this is the road I’ve made for myself, and now I have to walk it.
I take a step forward.
A shift in the light makes me stop, wondering if what I see is just the sun coming out from behind the clouds outside. Some change in the light. Some…something.
But Dasriel curses softly on the balcony above me, and I know he can see it too.
Faintly at first, but more brightly every second, Laskia is starting to glow with a soft, white, pulsing light, just like Leander did.
And then, as I stand frozen in place at the bottom of the stairs, she begins to move. This is nothing like Leander’s smooth, graceful rise—she’s slow and jerky, like a puppet withtoo many people trying to yank at its strings, and she’s making anoise,a moan that’s ripped from her throat.
She pushes herself up to her knees, swaying, her head bowed.
Then she turns her gaze toward me, and her eyes are pure, glowing green.
SELLY
