Willing Sacrifice
Page 69
“They were created by a bonded pair of Theronai whose son was dying. The woman had great skill with the creation of magical artifacts. Her husband had boundless strength, compassion and love for his child. The couple was willing to give their lives for their son. They did not waste time worrying about how they would survive the removal of the device. Neither expected to live—certainly not without the other.”
“Surely the man wouldn’t have willingly let his wife sacrifice her life.”
“Such choices were not up to him. She created the device. She intended for it to stay on until her death, transferring every bit of health and power left in her.”
“She had to have known that killing herself was also a death sentence for her husband.”
“There were more female Theronai then, and one was compatible with his power. The wife had already seen to it that her family would survive, that her husband would live on.”
“No way could she have hidden her intent from her husband like that. He would have known. The mental link the luceria creates…”
“And that was her mistake. She believed she had shielded her intent well, but her husband knew what she would do.”
“He used the device himself,” guessed Torr.
“Their child survived. He became Gilda’s father.”
Pieces clicked into place. Gilda was the one who gave Grace the device. She would have known what it could do.
And she’d let Grace use it anyway.
Fury lashed over his skin. Gilda had been willing to sacrifice Grace to save Torr.
“How could she have done that? Her vow to protect humans…”
“Sacrificing one human so that you could live and save countless more? It would be an easy thing to justify.”
He didn’t agree. Not when that one human was someone like Grace. Sacrificing her—choosing to do so—was so far beyond his comprehension it seemed… evil. He’d never before thought of Gilda that way, but maybe he’d been wrong.
“I won’t let anyone hurt Grace like that again,” he said. “You have to help me keep her safe. Isn’t there some way to remove the disks?”
“Death is the only certain way. Removing them artificially would cause her years of torment. She would eventually recover, but she might never forgive you. That is why I commanded you to keep yours on.”
“I won’t hurt her. What else? There has to be something else we can do to keep her safe.”
“You can vow to never see her again. I will send her back to Earth with no memories of you and you will vow to keep your distance, never speaking to her again.”
His heart cracked open and bled at the mere thought. To never talk to her again? Never hold her again? Impossible. “No. I can’t do that either.”
“There is one other option.”
“Name it.”
The waves in Brenya’s stormy eyes kicked up, seething with power as she held his gaze. “I knew it would come to this moment. I have always known.”
“Just spit it out.”
A truly frightening ripple of power seeped out of her, chilling Torr to the bone.
She lifted a bent finger toward him. “You, young Theronai, will become human.”
Chapter 30
Grace was just about to walk into Brenya’s hut when she heard the woman utter the statement. You, young Theronai, will become human.
Shock hit her hard, freezing her in place.
Torr’s voice echoed that shock. “Is that even possible?”
“For me? Yes. You are Theronai. My design. I can unmake the parts of you that are mine, leaving behind the remnants of humanity within you.”
“But if I was human, how would I protect Grace?”
“How do any human men protect their women?”
“But the Synestryn, my vows…”
“Your vows were made to my kind. Weakened as you would be, you would no longer be able to fulfill them. I would release the magic binding you to your will and rid you and Grace both of all traces of Athanasian blood. It would not be pleasant, but it would allow you to live out the rest of your short lives together.”
Say no, say no, Grace silently chanted in her head.
“The Synestryn wouldn’t be able to smell her blood?” he asked, his tone thoughtful, as though he was actually considering it.
“Or yours. You could live as you choose. Love each other. Have children.”
“What about the war?”
“No longer your concern. You would no longer have any memories tying you to your old life. You and Grace would believe you were normal, simple humans, with small, insignificant lives.”
“I’d lose my friends.”
“But you would have Grace.”
“Done,” he said, far too fast. “I’ll guard your people here until you come back, and then you’ll make me human.”
“But first you must destroy the portal. Once that is done and you have proven yourself worthy, only then will we discuss a deal.”
“Give me the crystals and stones. I’ll leave tonight.”
“No. You will guard the village tonight. I will rest.”
“Whatever you need, Brenya. I’ll make sure it’s yours.”
“Then leave me to sleep.”
Grace stepped behind the door just as it swung open. Torr hurried away, drawing his sword as he went. His step was lighter, his stride more buoyant.
He was happy. He’d just agreed to give up his powers for her—to become weak like her—and he was happy.
Suddenly the image of him lying in his bed at Dabyr hit her. He’d been so helpless, so weak. He’d been angry, frustrated. Maybe he didn’t remember how much pain his helplessness had caused him—how he ached to be out there with his brothers fighting, how he felt responsible for every one of them who fell because he’d been unable to be at their side—but she did. She remembered every second of it. She saw him die inside a little more each day.
Some things are better left forgotten.
She wouldn’t let him do that to himself again. She couldn’t stand watching him suffer like that. He had no idea what it meant to be a human—to be weak and fragile.
She would not let him sacrifice his life for her. He was too important—too vital to the survival of the people she loved. And even if he wasn’t, she still wouldn’t let him do this. She loved him too much.
“Surely the man wouldn’t have willingly let his wife sacrifice her life.”
“Such choices were not up to him. She created the device. She intended for it to stay on until her death, transferring every bit of health and power left in her.”
“She had to have known that killing herself was also a death sentence for her husband.”
“There were more female Theronai then, and one was compatible with his power. The wife had already seen to it that her family would survive, that her husband would live on.”
“No way could she have hidden her intent from her husband like that. He would have known. The mental link the luceria creates…”
“And that was her mistake. She believed she had shielded her intent well, but her husband knew what she would do.”
“He used the device himself,” guessed Torr.
“Their child survived. He became Gilda’s father.”
Pieces clicked into place. Gilda was the one who gave Grace the device. She would have known what it could do.
And she’d let Grace use it anyway.
Fury lashed over his skin. Gilda had been willing to sacrifice Grace to save Torr.
“How could she have done that? Her vow to protect humans…”
“Sacrificing one human so that you could live and save countless more? It would be an easy thing to justify.”
He didn’t agree. Not when that one human was someone like Grace. Sacrificing her—choosing to do so—was so far beyond his comprehension it seemed… evil. He’d never before thought of Gilda that way, but maybe he’d been wrong.
“I won’t let anyone hurt Grace like that again,” he said. “You have to help me keep her safe. Isn’t there some way to remove the disks?”
“Death is the only certain way. Removing them artificially would cause her years of torment. She would eventually recover, but she might never forgive you. That is why I commanded you to keep yours on.”
“I won’t hurt her. What else? There has to be something else we can do to keep her safe.”
“You can vow to never see her again. I will send her back to Earth with no memories of you and you will vow to keep your distance, never speaking to her again.”
His heart cracked open and bled at the mere thought. To never talk to her again? Never hold her again? Impossible. “No. I can’t do that either.”
“There is one other option.”
“Name it.”
The waves in Brenya’s stormy eyes kicked up, seething with power as she held his gaze. “I knew it would come to this moment. I have always known.”
“Just spit it out.”
A truly frightening ripple of power seeped out of her, chilling Torr to the bone.
She lifted a bent finger toward him. “You, young Theronai, will become human.”
Chapter 30
Grace was just about to walk into Brenya’s hut when she heard the woman utter the statement. You, young Theronai, will become human.
Shock hit her hard, freezing her in place.
Torr’s voice echoed that shock. “Is that even possible?”
“For me? Yes. You are Theronai. My design. I can unmake the parts of you that are mine, leaving behind the remnants of humanity within you.”
“But if I was human, how would I protect Grace?”
“How do any human men protect their women?”
“But the Synestryn, my vows…”
“Your vows were made to my kind. Weakened as you would be, you would no longer be able to fulfill them. I would release the magic binding you to your will and rid you and Grace both of all traces of Athanasian blood. It would not be pleasant, but it would allow you to live out the rest of your short lives together.”
Say no, say no, Grace silently chanted in her head.
“The Synestryn wouldn’t be able to smell her blood?” he asked, his tone thoughtful, as though he was actually considering it.
“Or yours. You could live as you choose. Love each other. Have children.”
“What about the war?”
“No longer your concern. You would no longer have any memories tying you to your old life. You and Grace would believe you were normal, simple humans, with small, insignificant lives.”
“I’d lose my friends.”
“But you would have Grace.”
“Done,” he said, far too fast. “I’ll guard your people here until you come back, and then you’ll make me human.”
“But first you must destroy the portal. Once that is done and you have proven yourself worthy, only then will we discuss a deal.”
“Give me the crystals and stones. I’ll leave tonight.”
“No. You will guard the village tonight. I will rest.”
“Whatever you need, Brenya. I’ll make sure it’s yours.”
“Then leave me to sleep.”
Grace stepped behind the door just as it swung open. Torr hurried away, drawing his sword as he went. His step was lighter, his stride more buoyant.
He was happy. He’d just agreed to give up his powers for her—to become weak like her—and he was happy.
Suddenly the image of him lying in his bed at Dabyr hit her. He’d been so helpless, so weak. He’d been angry, frustrated. Maybe he didn’t remember how much pain his helplessness had caused him—how he ached to be out there with his brothers fighting, how he felt responsible for every one of them who fell because he’d been unable to be at their side—but she did. She remembered every second of it. She saw him die inside a little more each day.
Some things are better left forgotten.
She wouldn’t let him do that to himself again. She couldn’t stand watching him suffer like that. He had no idea what it meant to be a human—to be weak and fragile.
She would not let him sacrifice his life for her. He was too important—too vital to the survival of the people she loved. And even if he wasn’t, she still wouldn’t let him do this. She loved him too much.
