by Ali Winters
Death. Her death was permanent. Her power that had always caressed his own, brushed up against it… went still and vanished.
He brought forth his scythe, calling the thread up, then swung.
Caspian waved his hand and her cloak fell away, allowing her limp body to float up.
Her hand rose before the rest of her, and he swallowed the illusion that she reached for him. A cruel torment of the mind.
Caspian’s feet sank into the water until he was submerged up to his waist.
Nivian hovered just under the surface, with her eyes closed. She looked like she was sleeping. Her skin no longer sun darkened but now leached of color by the water, the cold moonlight, and death.
Her life force wound into an orb, hovering and glittering a few feet above her. Caspian reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden watch. He pressed on the crown and opened it. Immediately, her life force swirled and dove into the face of the time piece.
He pocketed the watch, then wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his chest. “I am so sorry, Nivian,” he whispered into her hair. “I am more sorry than you will ever know.”
His eyes burned. She had trusted him, and he’d betrayed her, betrayed what they had shared. The pain he felt had to be worse than destruction.
Gaia, take him now. He wouldn’t be able to bear her loss if he had to feel it for the rest of his miserable, never ending existence.
“Nivian!” a man’s voice called in the distance from the direction of her home. Still far off, but not for long.
Caspian smoothed the dark strands of hair from her face. This was no longer the woman he loved. The Watcher who had wholly captured his heart. It was no longer Nivian, though it was all that remained of her.
Scooping her up, Caspian lifted her out of the river, holding her tightly to his chest. Her cold, limp body made heavy in his arms by the hand of death. His hand.
This wasn’t the death he had wanted for her. He hadn’t wanted a death for her at all. Though, if he could have chosen anything, he would have picked having her asleep in bed, dreaming of something beautiful, something that would have put a smile on her lips one last time.
Allowing another Guardian to reap her? It would have been cruel. Any other would have taken the loss of every Dark Guardian out on her. He would have regretted that path far more than this one. Though, as selfish as it was, if it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have blamed him in her last moments, wouldn’t have felt betrayed, wouldn’t have hated him. But his fear of regret and the power his duty held over him had made him swing.
He turned toward the shore and stopped, mouth gaping. The river’s edge lapped at his feet.
A wraith stood before him, identical to the woman he held. Moon beams filtered through her transparent form as Nivian’s eyes narrowed on him.
He knew he would pay for what he did to her. Nivian didn’t speak, but her eyes told him that whatever love had been between them had also died the second he’d swung his scythe and ended her life permanently.
“Nivi?” he croaked hoarsely and took a step toward her.
She shook her head slowly, her fists clenching at her sides as though she were trying to summon her powers. A light formed behind her, creating a halo; the portal that would lead her soul into the underworld to be stripped of everything that made her Nivian.
“Nivi, I am sorry. I did not want it to be like this.”
“Save your lies. It’s too late for apologies.” Nivian lifted her hands and gestured toward her body in his arms. “Do not be so arrogant. How could you think I’d forgive you for what you did? You don’t deserve forgiveness.” Her words were laced with venom.
What he did—reaping her… or was it more?
“Please. I—”
“I hate you, Caspian,” she spoke low and measured. “You lied to me.”
“No…” He clutched her limp body to him even tighter. Held her as if her physical form could anchor her spirit to this earth and make her listen until she knew that it had all been real. That he loved her.
“I wish I had never laid eyes on you.” With that, she turned and strode into the light.
“Nivian!” Caspian called.
But the portal closed, as if it had never been.
As if she hadn’t destroyed him with those last words.
YEVA
YEVA JERKED UP, gasping and clawing at her neck, a cold sweat slicking her skin. Her chest ached with each breath as her wide eyes scanned the surrounding room. Several moments passed before reality set in and her breathing returned to normal. Home. She was home.
She swallowed and it felt like broken glass against her raw throat. A nightmare… but no, it was more than that. Something had happened. A burst of energy had woken her.
Yeva sent her power out in a slow wave, stretching across the land, feeling for her Watchers. Her power recoiled as it touched something cold and dark. A Watcher was missing.
Dead, or perhaps destroyed? Neither feeling fit.
An aura so strange and unnerving lingered, as if one had in fact been destroyed, yet the flicker of a ghost remained. Though, that was impossible. Yeva frowned and threw her blankets off.
She couldn’t understand what had happened. A Watcher could not be destroyed and leave behind some remnant of existence.
The moon cast a cold, bluish light across the room. Yeva stood, making her way to the water basin on the short dresser across from her bed. A large circle of polished brass had been fastened to the wall just behind it.
She splashed chilled water over her face then leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands as she examined her reflection.
Several drops dripped from her chin, back into the bowl, rippling. Her grip tightened on the edge of the wood, nails biting into the soft grain. Yeva let out a frustrated breath, wishing her racing heart would calm. She plucked up a cloth and dried her face.
The feeling of loss, however incomplete, haunted her. She reached for her deep green shift hanging on a hook and slipped it over her head.
No sooner had she smoothed the cloth of her skirt down over her hips than the door burst open. Yeva started, a sneer forming on her full lips as she stormed into the other room, ready to deal with whomever dared enter uninvited.
“What is the meaning of this?” she snapped at the man panting in her wide open doorway.
Sweat glistened across Finn’s blood drained face. The pale lavender light of predawn edged above the distant tree line behind him.
Kain followed seconds later, wearing only slacks, his chest bare and his feet equally so. His presence soothed her irritation, his power a salve on her already frayed nerves.
Yeva crossed to the table and picked up the lantern, then snapped her fingers, lighting the wick. The warm glow washed over the small dwelling. She turned toward the men, crossing her arms over her chest, and looked to Finn expectantly.
“She’s gone… Nivian is gone. She went for a walk in the middle of the night, but she never came back,” his voice wavered, cracking on her name.
Yeva snorted. Of course, it would be Nivian tangled up in… only Gaia knew what. And what the girl was involved in was exactly what she needed to figure out.
The lingering, incomplete feeling made it impossible for Yeva to tell who she’d lost. It might very well be Nivian, though she could still sense her presence. It made no sense.
Finn was one of her best trackers and even he’d failed to find Nivian. Either his emotions were getting in the way, or something more sinister was at play. She ground her teeth until her jaw ached. It seemed it would be up to her to track down the girl.
She flicked her eyes toward Kain, and the look of concern and worry on his face only served to grate on her, but Yeva pushed away the sting and dragged her attention back to Finn.
“I would not worry about her. She is most likely at the river by that tree she loves so much.”
“No.” Finn shook his head. “That was the first place I checked. I went to the tree, she wasn’t
there. Only…” he trailed off.
Kain closed the door quietly as the other man spoke, listening as though he didn’t want to miss a single detail. When Finn didn’t continue, he leaned in and demanded, “Only what?”
Finn’s hands shook, whether with rage or fear, Yeva couldn’t tell.
“There was a frozen patch of grass near the bridge that had been trampled and matted.” He jerked a hand though his hair as he turned to Kain. “She wasn’t anywhere. There was no trace of her leaving.”
Yeva sent a tendril of power out to the waterside to see if something of her life force lingered. Darkness and cold were the only things she found. In all her existence, Yeva knew that no human had the strength or power to harm a hair on even the weakest of the Watchers.
Yeva clenched her fists as the revolution hit her.
Nivian was alive and she was with the Dark Guardians.
Silas. She cursed his name. He was the only one who could take a Watcher such as her, the only one who would dare.
So Nivian had sided with Silas and had betrayed her—had betrayed them all. All her sneaking about, taking the sacred chalice…
Nivian, that wretched girl, had seemed so sincere that Yeva had grown to believe the lie that she was innocent. In reality, it had all been some devious plot concocted by Silas. How long had the two of them been scheming behind her back? And for what? What had that bastard promised her? Yeva’s blood boiled.
“Never mind that traitor,” she seethed through teeth clenched so tight her jaw ached. “Silas has taken her.”
The two men stopped talking and faced her, their expressions matching in their slackened muscles, wide eyes, and gaping mouths.
It was Kain who collected himself first. He drew back as if she’d struck him. He tried to speak and failed several times before he could form words. “What are you talking about?”
Yeva tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist and heaved a long sigh. “Silas has turned Nivian away from us, away from her duties, and convinced her to join them.”
“She would never do that!” Kain stepped close.
Yeva felt pity for her Second. His affection for Nivian blinded him to what she was capable of, and what she had done. Though, who could blame him? Even she, with her occasional suspicions, had given her more leeway than she’d deserved, more chances, and had put up with her strangeness.
“Do not let your emotions cloud your judgment,” Yeva said coolly. Her quiet warning had him retreating a step. “She stole the sacred chalice and handed it over to Silas.”
The rise and fall of Finn’s chest quickened with his labored breath, true worry on his face. He was not smart enough to fake that. No. His surprise and emotions were real. And despite knowing what Nivian did, he remained worried for her. There was no flicker of the anger she, herself, felt for Nivian.
“You’re wrong,” Kain said quietly.
Her eyes narrowed as she advanced on Kain, her head cocking predatorily to the side. The knot of his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “No, my love, you are wrong. I caught her right after she handed it over to him. Of course she denied it—lied to my face—and I was fool enough to believe her.” Her voice grew dark. Dangerous.
The thrum of her pulse kicked up at remembering the feel of Silas’s cold power, then finding Nivian only seconds later near the spot where he had been. She should have destroyed the little wretch when she had the chance. But those large, brown doe-eyes had blinked up at her, making her turn away rather than deliver the punishment deserved. She was too good at pretending to be innocent.
Yeva watched her words sink into Kain’s mind, saw the thoughts flit across his face, the range of emotion he went through as he struggled to accept the truth. Finn, on the other hand, had horror and shock and sorrow distorting his face as a single tear slid from his eye unnoticed.
Yeva held in her frustration. They were two of her best, but they were far more emotional than Jack and Taliha. Though their powers were not as strong as Kain’s, they were more adept when it came to controlling their feelings, keeping them in check, and letting logic rule. Obedient, born with the desire to do what was needed as their strongest trait. It made up for what they lacked in power.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Kain said after a long while. “Nivian has always been devoted to our duty.”
Finn spun on his heel and, not speaking a word, stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. The echo reverberated through the small dwelling.
When silence fell upon them again, Yeva closed her eyes and centered herself before turning to Kain. Such wide-eyed trust, so desperate to see only the good, even when Nivian’s actions were so painfully against everything they stood for.
“I know it is difficult to understand. It took me days to accept what had happened was possible, and more time still to come to grips with it.” She closed the distance and placed a hand on his muscular shoulder. His skin was cold beneath her palm. “It is something we must all accept, sooner rather than later.”
“You knew about it that long?” His expression darkened. “Why didn’t you say anything before? I could have…” he trailed off and held his hands out, palms up. When he focused on her again, he let his arms fall limply to his sides. “It has to be a misunderstanding. I know her. If she’s guilty of anything, then it is being too trusting. The only way she could do what you say she did is if Silas tricked her.”
Ever the protector, Yeva thought. “I know you care for her,” she started. And, in the dark, she could see his cheeks redden as he grasped her full meaning. “Do not worry, I will find out the truth of what happened before I make my judgment.”
Kain studied her, then nodded once.
“Come, you must put it out of your mind.” Yeva ushered him toward the door, and he followed without resistance. “Go and rest. I will need you on patrol tonight.”
He left without another word, and, when Yeva was alone again, she leaned back against the door and massaged her temples.
She would find the truth of the matter. Though, it was doubtful the truth would be what Kain had hoped for. There was too much pointing toward the betrayal. None of what transpired could have happened by chance.
Despite Nivian’s strangeness, most Watchers had a soft spot for her, not just Finn and Kain.
Kain’s love for the girl filled Yeva with regret. When she’d first assigned him to watch over Nivian, she had no idea how fond he would become of her. The strongest of her Watchers had become soft in Nivian’s hands.
But it was too late to go back and change the past. Not unless she used the Sands of Time. And as tempting as it was, that was forbidden by the Moirai.
Yeva pushed away from the door and crossed the room to extinguish the light. Rounding the table, she reached for the window and flung the shutters wide. Pale purples and reds mixed with the deep sapphire of the predawn sky. The frigid air brushed along her arms, promising a colder than usual winter.
What had happened that morning was not destruction. When a Watcher was destroyed, that was it. All trace of them disappeared forever.
One thing was for sure, something was amiss, and, for all she knew, Silas had the traitor hidden away somewhere, with her powers shielded, preventing Yeva from locating her own Watcher.
An unsettling thought struck her. If Nivian was in on Silas’s scheming, then there was a chance she was not the only one he’d approached and attempted to turn.
News of Nivian’s family unit returning reached her late in the afternoon. Yeva tried to pull herself away from her duties long enough to talk to them. But there was always one thing or another that needed her attention.
The long, arduous meeting held monthly had kept her inside most of the afternoon. It had slipped her mind, the distractions from the last several days taking over her thoughts. It was unlike her to be so forgetful.
After such a tedious day, Yeva needed the cool earth beneath her feet, needed to feel the life energy of the world thrum under her as she walked, even if
her day was not yet over.
Hestia, Cora, and Eloise had proven themselves to be nothing short of loyal. Then again, until a few nights prior, so had Nivian. And, in the end, she had proven to be a traitor. Now it was time to see how far Silas’s scheming had gone.
They would tell her what they knew, or, so help her, there would be a price to pay.
She crossed through the edge of her meadow toward the far side of the village. She needed her chalice back. Perhaps she could practice on more Reapers, turn them to her side as Silas had turned her Watchers to his. One might be capable of fetching the sacred cup and returning it to her.
She would destroy as many as she needed to turn just one who might serve her. She’d been biding her time thus far, but no more. She couldn’t afford further inaction.
As she neared the dwelling where Nivian lived, the two younger girls came into view. They sat among the wild flowers just beyond the home. Eloise’s long, dark, curly hair flowed wildly down her back, swaying in the light breeze. Her fingers wove the stems of flowers together, making a wreath identical to the one that sat upon her head. With it finished, she plopped it atop the other girl’s pale head. Cora didn’t look up from her book as she adjusted the crown of flowers.
They looked happy. Not a shred of worry weighed on their shoulders.
It was Eloise who lifted her head toward Yeva first. She stood immediately to bow, Cora following a few beats later, golden hair spilling over her shoulders. The book in her hand tumbled to the ground, forgotten. Neither straightened until Yeva stopped before them.
Loyal. Respectful. It bode well that they had not forgotten their place as their sister had.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” Cora said.
“I must speak with your family on an important matter,” Yeva said.
The two young Watchers glanced quickly at each other, but it was Cora who ushered Yeva toward the house, with Eloise trailing silently behind.
Hestia’s back was turned as she stood along the far wall, leaning over the counter. Small, white feathers floated on the soft waves of air created by her movements as she plucked a chicken.