Page 131 of Sword & Sacrifice

Penn inhaled deeply, and on his next exhale, Val imagined him saying, “I love you, too.”

This was a calmer death than a lying, mercenary bastard like Valerian deserved, so he pretended that he was only falling asleep. That the darkness closing in was only a transition into his dreams. He tightened his arm around his lover and snuggled closer, burying his face deeper into Penn’s neck.

Inhale the heavy scent of musk, the faded traces of soap and clean skin.

Exhale, stirring the stray strands of hair brushing Penn’s neck.

Inhale, their chests rising together.

Exhale, hot breath burning away the world piece by piece until the only two things left in existence were the lovers tangled together on a bed of nothingness.

Inhale—

Chapter Fifty-Two

Sweat beaded Archer’s brow, matted his hair and beard, stuck his clothes to his back. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs even as he slashed at the creatures and waded further into the city. His soldiers fought beside him through all of it, protecting the citizens.

But they could do nothing against the magic.

Buildings crumbled. Several gaps had opened in the wall surrounding the castle, though Archer couldn’t see how the structure itself fared. The earth beneath them continued to shake and rumble and spit out the deathless creatures. More and more crawled out of the destruction and all they could do was try to hold them back.

Every blow from one of the creatures was heavier than any Archer had taken from a human. Every time he struck back, his sword glanced off a rock or stuck in the dirt of the creature’s body. Fighting them was an endless task of breaking each one down and moving on to the next, hoping to destroy them faster than they put themselves back together.

A creature lunged and Archer raised his sword to block. The stone fist slammed into his forearm, and for a second, Archer’s grip faltered. His sword clattered to the ground. Pain radiated through his arm—the bone possibly broken.

The stone creature swung again, aiming for Archer’s head. He barely dodged in time. But the fast travel, the long fight, it all caught up to him. The next time the mountain shook, his feet fell out from under him. He collapsed, his knees slamming hard into the ground.

The creature raised its heavy arms above its head.

Archer struggled to stand, but his limbs were jelly. He could barely lift his head to look into the creature’s pebble eyes, and he gritted his teeth, bracing for the blow. He had done his best to defend his people. His only regret was leaving Silas behind again.

A pebble struck Archer’s cheek. Then another rock tumbled from the creature’s head and bounced onto the ground. The creature stood still as a statue for a moment before the whole thing slowly toppled over and shattered into a hundred pieces.

Archer blinked in shock at the mess around him. Several long minutes passed before his exhausted mind understood what had happened. He slowly raised his head to look up the mountain. Did Penn succeed? Did he defeat Alistair?

Penn sat with Valerian’s head in his lap, stroking his golden hair off his sweaty forehead. Blood streaked from Val’s eyes and nose, staining Penn’s clothes and hand, but he didn’t mind. Val’s eyes were wide open, staring at the sky, flames flickering in his huge black pupils. Since there was no other fire atop the mountain, Penn assumed this was something magical, a sign of Valerian fighting back.

Val gasped in a shuddering breath. Penn tensed and raised the dagger over his chest, prepared to plunge it into his lover’s heart. But then Val’s eyes closed, and his body went limp. The rapid heartbeat pounding against Penn’s palm faded to nothing.

Penn traded the dagger for the potion bottle, his hands trembling the whole time. He wanted to rip the cork out and pour the contents down Val’s throat, but he had to wait. If he administered the potion too early, Alistair might still be clinging to Valerian’s mind and would be revived alongside him.

Using his own racing heart to measure, Penn counted the seconds. When he reached sixty, he finally pulled out the cork. It fell from his shaking hands and rolled off somewhere into the darkness. He forced Val’s mouth open and put the edge of the bottle against his lips, then carefully poured the contents inside. For a moment, the potion pooled in his mouth, swirling like a black galaxy trapped inside him.

Only then did he remember something else Adelaide had said: “He won’t be able to swallow, so you’ll have to force the potion into him.”

Penn carefully massaged Val’s throat, mimicking the movements of swallowing. The galaxy drained away, leaving a black stain on his tongue. Penn poured more of the potion inside and repeated the process until he’d emptied the whole bottle.

Then all he could do was wait.

“Come on, Val,” he murmured. “Come back to me.”

The air around them was still. The mountain had stopped rumbling. The wind had stopped howling.

And Val’s heart was not beating.

Tears spilled from Penn’s eyes, dripping onto Val’s cold skin. He bowed over Val, clutching him tighter. “I’m sorry,” Penn whispered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I tried so hard, and I—” It hadn’t worked. Penn had clung onto this hope, this dream, and what had it gotten him? Nothing. If any Arnsveldian citizens had died during the attack, Penn was responsible for their deaths as much as Alistair. And in the end, he hadn’t even saved his lover.

A shuddering sob poured from his mouth. “I wanted to be with you. To”—his voice broke but he forced himself to continue—“to love you. But everything is fucked up. I failed, and you’re gone, and I—”