CHAPTER47
A waveof magic bursts out from me as the dagger plunges between my ribs.
I collapse to my knees as the glass from the windows rains down around me. Rumbling is heard in the distance, as if the city is waking with a mighty yawn. A new sun is rising over Tempost, and the shards from the smithy windows look like ice, finally breaking free after a long slumber. Magic continues to pour from me in waves, wracking my body and spilling out over the city.
Groaning, snapping, crunching, rumbling from deep within. The earth itself is being liberated from this long night. I double over, the dagger still in my chest, one hand still around it, the other supporting me. I wheeze and cough. Blood splatters onto the ground.
Old gods, I didn’t intend for it to end up like this. I grin bitterly, digging my nails into the stone of the forge as if I am clinging on to life. Maybe I didn’t intend for it to end like this…but I suppose that part of me is glad it did.
I reclaimed what was lost, for the vampir, the humans, and for myself. And if I’m honest, if I’m going to die anywhere it might as well be on the floor of a smithy. I’ll die as I lived.
Pushing myself away from the ground, I lean back, and look at the sky. There are worse deaths, less noble ones. I can be content with this. But I wish that just once more I might have had the chance to—
Movement draws my attention to the doorway.
I blink several times, trying to force my eyes into focus. I don’t think that he is an illusion—a trick of my dying mind. But if he is…I’m grateful.
Ruvan is there. Breathless. Stunned. Lips parted and brows raised. With a whisper of wind he is at my side. His arm is around my shoulders. His other hand frantically moves over the dagger, too panicked to break my grip from it.
He looks as perfect as he did in slumber. So, so perfect. He’s everything I imagined.
“What—what the—what did you do?” He brings his eyes to me. They’re glassy with confusion, panic, and about a hundred other emotions.
“I did it,” I whisper, blood dribbling down my jaw. “It was a curse bound in blood. A curse demanding life for life. We already killed Tersius. Someone…someone had to pay the price.”
“No… No.” Ruvan shakes his head. “I won’t accept this, I refuse, I don’t understand.”
“There’s not much time left.” I sink into his arm, allowing him to pull me against his chest. “I have so much to tell you. So much I want to say…”
“I heard it all.”
“What?”
He caresses my cheek, tears falling onto my face. “You are my bloodsworn, my chosen one, the woman to whom I have bound my life, for whom I draw breath. No curse, not even death, would take me from you.”
I smile weakly. “And what if death takes me from you?”
“I will not let it…if you permit me.”
“This wound is—”
“It’s too deep, and too magical,” he agrees before I have to say it. “Just having my blood and my power isn’t going to be enough for this. And the curse must be broken, it must claim its price. There is no way to save you without letting you die. However, you could be born again.” His eyes, the same color as sunrise—red and gold—shine over me. “But I will not save you without your permission. I have taken you once from your world. I did so without your permission or your blessing, and I changed your life forever. I will not change your life again without your consent.”
“Ah.” It all makes sense to me, what he’s saying—no, offering. “Will it hurt?”
Ruvan smiles tenderly and caresses my cheek. “My darling, I swore I would never hurt you. I swore it in an oath and as a man. I promise you, it won’t hurt in the slightest.”
I close my eyes and think of home, of Hunter’s Hamlet, of my family’s smithy. I wonder if it will go dark. No…a forge always finds a way to keep warm. Mother will continue to work, and then whatever young woman she’s already no doubt begun training will take over after that.
It will be a new family of smiths, one that doesn’t know forge maidens but just a passion for heat and metal. The young woman will grow up making practical things—locks, horseshoes, hinges, nails. Because there will be no more need of silver or weapons. The long night has ended.
The war of humans and vampir is finally over.
“One other thing,” I rasp.
“We don’t have much time,” he cautions.
“We don’t need much more.” Even though it hurts to move, I grab his hand. “If you do this—we do this—I will not be hidden. It will be hard, but we will not make the same mistakes as our forefathers. We will live together, out in the open. We try this in earnest, or not at all.”
