Page 96 of Twisted Bonds
“Dan’thiel, listen—”
“Why do you call me alone by this name? The Third and Fourth are no less a part of your brother than me.”
The question seems to confuse him, but only for a moment. “Those two are not my brother. At least not the parts I knew. Your body, your voice are different. But you are the only one I recognize as the male I knew.”
I snort, a bitter laugh escaping me. “And yet I’m not him, am I?”
Cor’than says nothing for a while, the silence hovering between us as thick as the fog that has begun to descend on our path. We can see little ahead of us, and the wind carries the distant howl of a creature, unknown and eerie, that sends a chill down my spine. I force my eyes to remain ahead, focusing on the path.
“No, you’re not him,” Cor’than finally admits. His voice is low, filled with a strange mix of grief and acceptance. “But you’re as close as it gets, and there are things that must be said.”
I clench my jaw, imagination running wild with the list of admonishments he has in store for me.
“Go on then,” I challenge, squaring my shoulders and gearing up for a verbal sparring session. The air between us crackles with tension as we wait beneath the ebony blanket of night. His gaze is hard, unyielding, but there’s a flicker of something else there too.
He opens his mouth, then closes it again, uncertainty wrinkling his brow. The words seem to stick in his throat, caught between the reality of what I am and the memory of who I was.
“I…I,” he stammers, words failing him as he slowly closes his mouth. My eyes cut to him, suspicions rising inside me. Cor’than takes a breath and says instead, “This is a dangerous situation, Sunder. We must trust each other.”
Trust him? The idea is laughable. I can see the sincerity in his eyes, misguided as it is. It stirs something deep within me. An emotion I haven’t felt in ages, one that belonged to a time when Cor’than and I had been youths locked in a harmless sibling rivalry.
“You don’t betray someone and then ask them for their trust.” Cor’than winces at my words, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his eyes.
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
After a moment, Cor’than steers his horse further from me, leaving me to my peace. Tomorrow night this will all be over with, and I’ll never have to interact with Cor’than again.
The final confrontation with Yurghen will be tomorrow night. I just hope I survive to see the outcome.
forty-seven
Mira
As I stand in a vast field before an ominous stone yet somehow also ethereal castle, I immediately know this is a Dreamshare from the way my vision dances and blurs around the edges with swirls of Chroma.
My heart clenches, trying not to hope Tairyn might be here. That I might know he’s safe somewhere. Of course, I’ll be happy to see any of my mates on this lonely night, but it’s been so long since I last saw his face.
In the distance, a figure approaches. He’s tall, the body of a warrior from the looks of his broad shoulders and confident swagger. As he closes the distance, his face becomes clear. A stranger. Handsome, but not one of my four mates.
I glance around, frantic. Could there be five Shards? No, they would know. So who is this man and why are we here together? I take a step back as he approaches and wisely he stops in his tracks.
“So I am finally to meet you, Mira. But how?”
The man looks around, the pointed ears of the High Fae peeking over his shaggy black hair. He turns eyes so piercingly blue, they remind me of glacial ice floating in the Artic. The edges crinkle with lines of middle age and wisdom.
“Who are you?”
With a sweeping bow that I can only interpret as mocking and a mischievous grin that reminds me too much of Tairyn, he says, “Don’t you know?”
The words don’t feel right leaving my tongue. It’s twisted and off, like this can’t be real. “But… you’re dead. I don’t understand.”
“As far as the mortals of Illuemera are concerned, yes, I’m dead. But there are worlds between worlds. Currently, I wait in the Otherworld for the Shards to merge.”
My stomach twists. Merge and die so that I can be with him. His arrogance rises from his shoulders like stink lines. It reminds me of Sunder when we first met. I shake my head, warding off the dark thoughts. I can’t let myself think of their end now. Not yet, when there’s so much to do. A problem for a different day.
“But why are you here, in my Dreamshare?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. He’s watching me as if he’s studying a particularly interesting specimen. And yet there’s a warmth to his gaze. Something pulsing with radiant light beneath the surface that feels like Bobble. Like home.
I barely keep the grimace from my face.