Page 174 of The Blade in the Ashes
Violent coughing sounded—dry and booming, and I jerked in surprise, attention focusing on the thin frame supported by several pillows atop the gigantic bed.
The man held an ivory napkin to his mouth, keeping it pressed tightly to his face as the whooping coughs continued to shake through his too-thin body. When the fit finally slowed enough for him to pull away the towel and place it aside, gasping for air as he did, the tips of his fingernails were black.
I stumbled backward, barely missing Athene in my rush away from the bed.
I didn’t want to see this. Truth, fear, possibility. I didn’t care what this vision was; I only knew it was something I couldn’tface.
“You must not turn away,” Athene warned, completely unfazed by the way my lower lip had begun to tremble. “I must admit, of all the things you have to fear, I am surprised this is what troubles you the most.”
The door swung open, the wood bouncing against the wall as the woman who entered didn’t seem to care enough to be gentle. Both of her arms were full as she rushed towards him with a bucket of water, a plate of food, and another pillow. He smiled at her as a stool slid across the room towards her, arriving just in time for her to lower herself smoothly onto it. She dropped the bucket on the floor, and began arranging the pillow behind his head.
“I do not need another pillow, love,”the old man told her, reaching out to grasp her hand and still her.
No wrinkles or spots of age decorated the skin of her hand.
She frowned at him, her concern obvious. Avoiding his gaze, she pulled her hand from his grasp. The steel bands around her wrists scraped his thin skin as she instead reached for the loaf of bread she had brought. Silently, she began tearing off a small chunk.
“You should eat something.”Her voice was empty and utterly defeated, so soft that I struggled to even hear it.
He scoffed, waving a hand at her dismissively.“I am not hungry. Come. Lay down with me.”
She shook her head.“You haven’t been hungry in days. You must eat something.”
“The dead don’t need to eat.”
Pain shot through the center of my chest, piercing me as violently as it pierced the version of me that sat at his bedside.
“Do not say that!”she—I yelled at him.
Athene turned, effectively blocking my view of Clay and the other version of myself as I struggled to catch the breath that had lodged itself in my throat. I didn’t need to see anymore to know what was happening, though. I’d seen this scene play out dozens of times in my nightmares. Still, I covered my eyes as he coughed once more, the sound endlessly violent.
And I felt it.
I felt his soul.
It had been so long since my powers had latched onto another soul that I almost didn’t recognize the sensation of my magic connecting to another person with that unseen golden thread. When I realized what was happening, when I pulled my hands from my face and shoved aside Athene, it was already too late.
Both versions of myself, identical in appearance, felt the moment his soul left his body and crossed through the Veil to the Underworld.
He was gone. Clay was dead.
“No!” I hissed, turning away again, the backs of my eyes burning as the future version of myself wailed, her sobs a torturous melody of grief.
Athene’s steps rang out behind me. “You fear his death?”
The fire was already rising to burn away this image, as if the flames could simply wash away the image of him dying before me.
“No,” I whispered. “I fear my life.”
My life, and its endlessness. The immortality that would preserve me while everyone I knew and loved withered away.
Of course, I feared that.
ChapterFifty-Two
Rankor
“Okay, so I just want to make sure I have everything straight,” Elaijah announced, awkwardly dropping one of the three leather balls he was attempting to juggle.
