Page 134 of The Threads Between

CHAPTER 37

AUGUST

She had known.

Ruth's vision. The burning. Lily had known since the march. Had carried it through the assault on the Spire, through the ride to the estate, through every kiss and every whispered promise. Had known, and had chosen not to tell me.

Because she knew I would stop her.

And God help me, I would have. I would have let every Unraveled Weaver scatter into the void if it meant keeping her. I would have burned the world to ash before I let her sacrifice herself for it.

She had known that too.

I'm sorry, she sent through the bond. Her voice was fading, going thin at the edges. I couldn't let you stop me. They need to come home.

I need YOU.

“Lily, stop. Please. You must stop.”

But she wasn't stopping. The bond screamed with what she was doing. Pulling. Gathering threads by the hundreds, more than any single person should be able to hold. The corruption was gone now, severed clean, and in its place was a flood of golden light pouring through Lily.

She was burning out.

Just like my mother had.

I couldn't do this alone.

The realization hit hard. I had sealed the door to protect our friends, to keep them safe from the Unraveling, from the battle. But the battle was over, and Lily was dying in my arms, and I couldn't save her by myself.

I reached for the door.

The threads I had unmade to seal it, I found them and I severed every remaining connection, every barrier I had created to keep the others out.

The door exploded inward.

Garrick was first through the gap, blade drawn, face wild. Mira a step behind, one hand flying to her mouth. Beatrice. Marigold.

And Ruth.

The young Seer stood in the doorway, tears streaming down her face. She wasn't screaming. Wasn't making a sound. She just wept, silent and devastated, watching a vision come true exactly as she had foreseen it.

This was not Ruth's fault. This was Lily's choice. And Ruth would carry it anyway, the weight of knowing, the burden of seeing.

We were all going to carry it.

“Help me,” I said. My voice cracked. “Someone. Please. Help me.”

Mira rushed forward. Her hands found Lily's face, her throat, searching for something she could mend. But this wasn't a wound. This wasn't torn flesh or broken bone. This was Lily's soul pouring out of her body, and there was nothing a Mender could do.

“I can't—“ Mira's voice broke. “August, I can't. There's nothing to heal. She's not injured, she's⁠—“

“She's burning out.” Beatrice's voice was quiet. Terrible in its calm. “The way Elowen did. She's holding too much.”

I looked down at Lily. Gold light poured from her eyes, her skin, the very threads of her being. She was radiant. She was beautiful. She was dying in my arms, and I couldn't stop it.

“Lily.” I cupped her face in my hands. Her skin was hot, like touching a fever that had gone past the point of breaking. “Lily, stay with me. Please. Please.”

Her eyes found mine. Somewhere beneath the gold, I could still see her, the blue that I loved, the spark that had challenged me from the first moment we met.