“They died so you could live.”
“And will I?” Rune asked. “Will you take his armistice?”
“You would be his hostage.” Nightrender swallowed hard. “But you would be alive.”
Rune touched his heart, perhaps gauging his own grief and weighing it against hers. “I think you should finish this. He is weakened.”
“But not weak enough.” Nightrender searched his face. “If we take his offer, he would gain time, yes. But we would, too. And we need that time—we need an army. We need Dawnbreakers. And I—I need you alive.”
Emotion flashed through Rune’s eyes. “Will I remain here forever?”
“No. The next battle in this war will come. He will press against the Malstop harder than ever. Then I will be forced to return, to fight, and you will be released.”
“Or killed.”
Nightrender stepped close to Rune—so close that humans would call it intimate—and slipped a feather into his hand. It was ragged, bloodied, and razor sharp. “You are my soul shard. I would see you free.”
“Your soul shard,” he whispered, the feather vanishing into his armor.
“When you didn’t know before…I thought I was sparing your feelings.”
“I felt it. I always felt it, even before you awakened.” He gazed at her, his expression torn between wonder and grief and terror. “All right. If you think this is the best course, I will remain. I will believe that you can find a way to stop him.”
“Very well.” She touched his face, gently committing the lines and curves and texture of his skin to her memory—what was left of her memory, anyway. “Be warned: malice is a force of corruption. The longer you stay here, the more it will seep into you—change you. You must fight it. You must be strong. Every moment is a battle you must win.”
Rune gave a sharp, indrawn breath. “How long before it overtakes me?”
“You will last until the instant you stop fighting. Remember, some battles are fought solely for the sake of resisting.”
That was the thing about darkness: it never wavered, it never tired, and it never stopped pressing itself against the light.
“I won’t forget.” Rune closed his eyes and breathed. He was terrified. She could hear the thrum of his racing heartbeat, the rasp of his shallow breaths, but he was being courageous. For her. To protect her. To protect Salvation.
They were still standing so close together, with her fingertips resting on his jaw. And when he met her eyes once more, his emotions pulsed through the golden thread that spun between them—fear and sorrow and longing. Her own heart beat with the same surge of feeling.
A breath later, his lips were touching hers. First with a question. Then with a faint, conflicted sigh.
Nightrender shivered and echoed his movements.
Their kiss was slow, cautious, questing. It was a contradiction of sensations. It made her feel like something long-caged was finally being released—and like pieces of her were squeezing too tightly with want. Though she had seen humans kiss a thousand times before, she had never understood the appeal. But now that it was happening to her, she was beginning to grasp the power.
It was more than the warmth of his mouth against hers, the motion of his jaw under her fingers, or the nearness of their bodies—nothing but breath between them. It was an acknowledgment of emotion and attraction. It was a promise.
And it was a goodbye.
Rune stepped back, watching her face while his own twisted with guilt.
Nightrender’s hand fell to her side. They had both forgotten, it seemed, that he had already made a promise to someone else.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for this memory.” She would carry it with her, a bright star in her darkening sky. One day, it would burn out, too, but until then, she would treasure it.
Rune nodded stiffly. “You should go. Find Hanne and get her help. She is on our side.”
Nightrender simply nodded and lowered her good wing, finding the rancor had already moved away, making a path.
Daghath Mal had known what they would decide.
She shot Rune another look.
“Go,” he said. “I trust you.”
And so she went.
She left the throne room, the castle.
She made her way toward the towers of Known and Unknown, every step feeling like betrayal. How could she leave him to the torments of the Malice? But there was no other way to protect him, none that she could see.
How quickly her victory had become surrender.
As she walked, pains from all her injuries set in: the broken bones in her left wing, her still-bleeding wounds. Her eyes started to flutter closed. Her toes dragged, but step after step, she forced herself on.
When sections of the Soul Gate rumbled open, when the Malstop buzzed and split around her, Nightrender staggered through.
Outside the Malice, she dropped to the ground and lifted her face to the clear sky, the spiral of stars far away, and the dawn, which glowed just below the mountains, limning them in molten gold.
“You’re back,” said Known.
“What has happened?” asked Unknown.
Nightrender’s eyes ached with tears. “The Malstop is under attack, my soul shard is in peril, and a rancor king has come to Salvation. I have borrowed time with Rune’s life, but I do not know what to do.”
The maintainers looked at each other, and then Known rested their palms on the crown of Nightrender’s head, while Unknown placed their hands over Nightrender’s heart.
“Close your eyes.”
When she did, numinous light blazed brighter than dawn, enveloping them all.
And where a swath of dark nothingness had fallen across her memory, a new star flared to life.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Publishing a book is a team effort. Many thanks to:
My agent Lauren MacLeod, one of my favorite people in the whole universe, who championed Nightrender, Hanne, and Rune from the start.
My editor Mora Couch, who understood and shared my vision for this book. I’ll be forever grateful for the time, care, and attention given to making Nightrender the best book it could be.
The incredible team at Holiday House, including Sara DiSalvo, Aleah Gornbein, Terry Borzumato-Greenberg, Miriam Miller, Erin Mathis, Kerry Martin, Amy Toth, Chris Russo, Nicole Gureli, Lisa Lee, Judy Varon, and Della Farrell. I could not be more thankful for such a dedicated team.
The amazing cover artist, Yonson. I mean, wow.
Additionally, I’m so grateful to have amazing friends and colleagues who supported me throughout the writing and production of this book, including Martina Boone, who immediately saw the potential in my fragment of an idea and dropped everything to talk about it late into the night.