Page 40 of Up In Flames
“Not entirely,” I said. “But I am more myself than I have been since he consumed me.”
“Consumed,” Aranren whispered, briefly closing his eyes. “Yes, that's what he does.”
I looked at him again, seeing past the beauty and Death. The man in me reached for the man in him. In kinship—shared horror. But also in desperate friendship. We were all we had there. And now I knew that Aranren hated this as much as I did. I drew him to a grassy spot near the water and sat down. He gracefully sat beside me.
“Aranren,” I said.
He hung his head, that beautiful hair pooling in his lap.
“Don't be ashamed,” I said. “I'm here too. I understand now.”
“I'm so sorry, Ember,” Aranren whispered, glancing around as if Death might still be lurking nearby. “I didn't know. I never suspected that it would lead to this.”
“You haven't made progress with the experiments because you're hindering them, aren't you?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I try to thwart him wherever possible. I accidentally fail or find reasons to put off working. I've learned that the only way to fight Death is to fake enthusiasm. Pretend that I'm his. I've gotten very good at acting. Even Sarthares can't tell anymore.”
“I'm so sorry. I know you were friends.”
“Friends. Yes. And I've missed having a friend.” He let go of my hand. “When you came into power, there was no stopping Death. He had to have you. He is convinced that we will fail without you. All of my failures have led him to believe that I'm not capable of winning the war on my own. Then he learned about your bonding, how you share your magic with men you love, and he decided that we had to fall in love.” Aranren made a scoffing sound. “As if love can exist in death.”
“You've found a way to save parts of yourself from Death,” I said gently.
“Yes, and I hoped to save parts of you too.” Aranren grimaced. “It was the best I could do for you. So, when Death started to make me feel . . .” He cleared his throat and started again, “When he made me feel lustful about you, I told him that I didn't want you like that. I pretended to desire you truly and convinced him to give us a chance to really fall in love. I hoped he would give us moments like this, so you could be yourself again. I know how important these moments are. Without them, eternity is a vast pit of darkness.”
My chest clenched. I never thought I'd pity the Corrupter. But then, I never thought I would become the Corrupter. The Goddess' warning came to mind then.
“The Goddess said I would become another Corrupter if Death had his way,” I said. “But I didn't listen to her. Death convinced me that he was misunderstood.”
“Yes. He's good at that.”
“What is he?”
“I don't know.” Aranren wound his hair back with a casual movement that had less grace than normal but felt more real. “He thinks he's a god, but that doesn't seem correct to me.”
“The Goddess said that he is a manifestation of energy—the consciousness of Death Magic.”
Aranren considered this. “If Death can have consciousness, what about the other elements?”
“I've asked that very question.”
He cocked his head and stared at me. I got the feeling that he was looking as deeply at me as I had at him. “I have watched you from the beginning, Ember. Mostly as the Corrupter, but there have been many times that I have looked upon you as Aranren. And yet, I haven't seen your wisdom until now.” He held up a hand to add, “Not that I believed you to be unintelligent. But you have more to you than I saw.”
“You have much more to you than I thought as well. In fact, you're a completely different person,” I said. “I'm sorry that you've suffered alone, Aranren. All this time and you have been as much a victim as everyone else.”
Aranren rubbed his hand over his face. “Thank you. But I don't deserve your pity.”
“Everyone deserves sympathy.”
“Ember, I've killed so many people. Hurt many more. Enslaved men and women. And now, Death has me killing only to bring them back to a false life. I don't empower them. They aren't my puppets. They belong to him. But Death still needs me to work the spells. He needs a conduit to work through. I should fight harder. If I were stronger—”
“No one is that strong,” I said. “Once he has you, there is no fighting him.”
A tear slid down Aranren's cheek. “How are the children?”
My throat constricted. I knew I should feel something and not feeling it horrified me. “Dear Goddess,” I whispered. “I love those kids. I know I do. But I can't feel even a hint of that now.”
“The love is still there, Ember,” Aranren said firmly. “He can't take that from you. All he can do is bury it like a corpse. But it's not dead and so it's not under his dominion. It's yours. Remember that. All the love you feel is yours, even when you can't feel it.”
