Page 41 of Up In Flames
“Xae,” I said firmly, hoping to feel something. “Rath. Kel. Taroc.”
“Yes. Keep saying their names. Maybe you can fight him. You have more to fight for than I do. You have their strength to empower you.”
“Their strength,” I murmured. “I wonder if—”
“Shh!” he hissed. “Don't speak such things aloud.” Then Aranren widened his eyes at me as if to tell me to keep thinking them.
“Aranren, we can't give up hope,” I whispered. “Just before I let Death take me, I prayed to the Goddess, and I felt her approval. That must mean that there's a way out of this. She wouldn't have sent me here to become like . . .”
“Me,” he finished. “I don't know, Ember. I have never met the Goddess. I don't have faith in her as you do.”
“She foretold that I would end this war by uniting the men I loved. But she was vague on the details. Maybe she let me be taken because she knew that I was fighting the wrong enemy. Conquering you won't end the war. We have to conquer Death.”
Aranren placed his hand over my mouth, shaking his head. But when nothing happened, he lowered it. After biting his lip again, he said, “There is no conquering Death, Ember. He cannot be killed.”
“Don't give up yet, Aranren.” I clasped his hand firmly. “You're not alone anymore.”
His breath caught, his hand clenched around mine, and then he pulled me into a hug. Not an embrace. There was nothing romantic about it. It was a hug. An expression of hope and friendship. Of gratitude.
“We will pretend,” I said in his ear. “And we will plan.”
Aranren leaned back and met my stare. Determination bloomed in his. “And together, maybe we can survive.”
Chapter Twenty
Aranren and I spent our remaining time alone talking. We continued to speak about possible ways to circumvent Death, but also about each other. He was lonely, and I found comfort in him as well. I couldn't imagine how he had survived for centuries like this—with the world hating him, his best friend against him, and only Death knowing the truth. That he was a slave, not a villain.
But then Death returned and with him came that cold. I shrank into a box within my mind. I was still there, but not me. My emotions. That's what he took. Emotions and morality. I guess one is part of the other. No, there had to be more. I couldn't believe that it was just two things that stopped me from becoming the Corrupter.
It didn't matter. My musings faded under Death's certainty. I felt strong again, no doubt in my mind. But now, I had seen Aranren's truth. I should have confessed to Death, told him how we plotted against him. But there was enough of me within the cold to hold back. And even my new, calculating nature worked against Death. I knew that power came from secrets. The more I could withhold from Death, the more leverage I'd have. I did not like the idea of being his puppet.
I thought about this as Aranren and I left his pocket of summer and explored the rest of his land on horseback, Deathriding us. Although everything was covered in snow, I made a mental map of the area and noted where the ward lay. I wanted to know as much about our defenses as possible.
After circling the fortress, we returned to it and handed off our horses to the soldiers working in the stable. By the time we reached the dining hall, food was already arriving at our table. I approved of the efficiency.
“You two seem closer now,” Death said aloud as we took our seats.
A massive amount of food was laid before us. I knew from breakfast that the food wouldn't go to waste. When we were done, Aranren's soldiers would eat. No, not Aranren's. They belonged to Death—something else that stuck in my craw. I wanted my own army. I wanted my own power. To rule as Death promised. But I couldn't do that if he was stronger. And so, my plans with Aranren served this goal as well. Death hadn't counted on my ambition, and that made me smile.
“Yes.” I took Aranren's hand. “I think you're right. Establishing a relationship with Aranren will only empower me. Together, we are stronger.” I slid a secret look at Aranren.
To my delight, he sent one back at me. Yes, even when he was the Corrupter, he wanted more. Just like me. Our weaker selves would plot, but our stronger selves would make use of their subterfuge. He and I would truly rule in the end.
“And I am pleased with my new companion,” Aranren said. “Thank you for bringing him to me, Death.”
“I'm delighted that you are getting along so well. And all without my intervention,” Death said. “Perhaps I shall leave youto yourselves again tonight.” His tone went wicked, “You can see where the night leads.”
The calculating me wondered if having sex with Aranren might benefit me, then tossed aside the notion. I didn't actually want to empower him. I just wanted Death to think that I wanted to empower him so he would leave us alone to plot.
“I would like more time alone with Aranren,” I said. “But tomorrow, we shall go out and find more test subjects for Aranren's experiments.”
“Very good,” Death said. “Enjoy your evening, my emperors.”
And then he left. Just like that. And with Death's withdrawal, parts of the real Ember rose. I gasped in a breath, as if I were physically surfacing from being underwater, then turned to look at Aranren. He was not as affected as I, but he'd had years to adjust to Death's withdrawals.
“Are you back?” Aranren whispered.
“Yes. Partly. You?”
