Vow of the Shadow King: Chapter 42
The crystals are singing.
I hear them. All around me. Under me. Over me.
Singing a song of the stars they once were. Singing a song of the blackness of space, the endless vastness of eternity. A song of life and love and darkness and endings and beginnings.
The song moves around me, through me. Pulls me down through layer after layer of reality until I’m submerged in black water, cold as ice. I feel the heaviness of a body all around me, like I’m encased in stone.
Still the song sings, vibrates through my bones. These are the voices of suns and moons, the voices of the higher gods. And above them and below them and through them, the great One Voice that spoke even the gods into being.
I am ecstatic. This is beyond any experience I ever hoped to know while housed in a body of flesh. It does not matter that I am cold, that I am heavy, that I am blind. Why should such things matter when such a song rings through every fiber of my being?
Then the pain begins.
Like a lance of furnace-heated iron shot straight up my spine.
I scream. There is no air, and I have no voice. It does not matter. Both my body and my spirit scream, thrash. I thought I knew what pain was. I thought I could endure it.
I was wrong.
Oh, why did I not die as I should? The worst was over. There was no need to come back, no need to feel this burning, wrenching, shattering . . .
Faraine.
Vor’s voice. Speaking directly to my heart.
Faraine, let me take this. Let me have your pain.
No! No, I will not give this to him. If this is the price of my daring to defy the very laws of death, then I alone shall pay it. Not him. Never him.
Faraine, let me take this from you. Let me give you my strength.
With everything I have, I resist. But I’m weak. Weaker than I’ve ever been. The pain is too great, red-hot as it enters into me from every pore, every cell, every fragment of existence. I cannot endure it. Not on my own.
So, I fall.
Fall into the love he offers.
Fall into the strength with which he holds me.
Once again, I let him carry me, cradling me in his arms and his heart as I’m stabbed over and over again.
My body jolts. The agony of life reentering my limbs. My spirit rebels, unwilling now that the moment has come to be confined within physical matter once more. It’s too late. I have no choice but to surrender my will, to go on. The light, the glory, the song, all of these fade. Now there is only darkness. Darkness, which feels as though it will never end until—
We surge up from the water, gasping for breath. The air feels heavy in my lungs, like dragging rocks down my throat to rattle around in my chest. I have lungs once more. Lungs and limbs and substance. It hurts. It hurts so much.
But I am alive.
“Faraine!”
Vor’s voice. Desperate.
I want to speak to him, to ease his fear. I try to turn my head, to open my eyes. It all feels so heavy, so impossibly weighted. My tongue is like a brick in my mouth, my eyelids iron-fastened gates.
Strong arms tighten their hold around me. Then Vor’s voice again, growling in my ear. “No, no, no!” The slosh of water then a blast of cold air on my skin. Every sensation is stark and terrible, a new and excruciating pain. I’m laid to rest on a stretch of bare ground, aware of every lump, every pebble, every blade of grass as it cuts into my sensitive skin.
Hands touch my face, my neck, my arms. I feel the wet heaviness of robes being drawn back. Then pressure against my skin. Vor. He presses his ear to my chest. For a moment, he holds his breath. Then: “Gods!” He gasps the word like a prayer as he draws back from me. “Her heart beats. Gods on high and below be praised!”
He’s silent then for a time save for his own gasping breaths. Finally, he bends over me once more. “Faraine, do you hear me? Are you there?” His hands cup my face. “Please, Faraine, please. Open your eyes. At least grant me that.”
I have to show him. But when I try to raise an eyelid, nothing happens. I’m so heavy, so terribly heavy.
I hear him draw a breath. The next moment, he fumbles with the front of my gown again, his fingers searching. He finds the silver chain of my necklace, draws it out from under the folds of beaded cloth. Carefully, tenderly, he takes one of my limp hands, presses the stone pendant into my palm, curls my fingers around it.
Deep down inside, I feel the thrum of life at the heart of the stone.
“Live, Faraine.” His face must be close to mine. I feel the warmth of his breath against my icy cheek. His voice is thick and urgent. “Live. For you are my very life. Gods damn me for not speaking sooner! But I won’t lose whatever time we have now. I won’t go another moment without you knowing the truth: You are my heart. My soul. My wife. From this day until my last, I am yours and no other’s. Whether you come back to me now or not, it makes no difference. I give you everything, everything.” He presses his forehead against mine. A sob wracks his body. “Only live, Faraine. I beg you, live.”
His lips press against mine. Light at first, then deeper, fuller. I draw in a breath as warmth spreads through me, passing from his soul into mine. It’s like a door has opened inside me and sunlight floods into every darkened space.
My eyelids move, flutter, open. My hand, closed around the urzul stone, tightens its grip. With an effort of strength beyond anything I’ve ever attempted, I lift my other hand and rest it against Vor’s cheek.
He pulls back, gasping. Stares down into my blinking, dazed eyes.
Then the very light of heaven shines from his face as his mouth breaks into a smile.
“There you are!” he breathes.