hole appeared, and the second the veil was breached, Eli threw the tiny, perfect world down as hard as he could.
Benehime’s hand flew out, her long, white fingers brushing the sphere as it passed, but it wasn’t enough. The tiny world tumbled through the hole in the veil, and the moment it touched the real world, the fragile sphere cracked.
All at once, the air was filled with ringing, glorious shouts as the stars burst into freedom. They flew from the crumbling sphere in a shower of color so beautiful, so brilliant, Miranda couldn’t bear to watch. Instead, she focused on the reflection the colors cast against the white world, each one sparking and vanishing until, in a heartbeat, it was over.
As the Between faded back to white, Benehime lay frozen on the ground at Eli’s feet, her hand still flung out after her lost paradise. Her face was a mask of loss more bitter than anything Miranda had ever seen, but the look was gone in an instant, replaced with absolute fury.
Without a word, without a warning, without even a sound, the Shepherdess shot up. Miranda caught a glimpse of black in the white rush before the Power wrapped herself around Eli. She saw him tense, his smug expression falling away to one of shock, then resignation.
For several seconds, Miranda wasn’t actually sure what had happened. But then she saw the Shepherdess’s hand pull back with deliberate slowness, the black dagger dripping crimson before she slammed it again into Eli’s chest. He grunted as the blade entered, and then Benehime stepped back, letting Eli fall face-first onto the white floor at her feet.
“Eli!”
Miranda didn’t recognize her own voice as the scream echoed across the crumbling white nothing. She scrambled toward the thief’s crumpled body, so desperate to get to him that she didn’t even feel the Shepherdess’s foot in her ribs until she was flung backward. Miranda landed hard on her side and lay stunned for a moment, watching helplessly as the Shepherdess threw the black dagger down.
It landed with an echoing, metallic clang that went on and on as the dagger’s uneven surface rocked back and forth against the veil. The Shepherdess fell to her knees beside the thief, her white eyes empty as she took him in her arms.
Why, she whispered. Why? Why? Her voice grew louder with each question until her scream filled the Between. Why did you make me do this?
The scream faded to a choked sob as she wrapped herself around Eli’s bloody body. You didn’t have to break it, she whispered, turning his face toward hers. There was no paradise without you.
And then she kissed him, her lips pressed hard against his even as the Lord of Storms’ hand wrapped around her neck.
She did not struggle as he lifted her, not even to pry his fingers off her throat. She merely hung from his hand like a limp doll as he carried her to the edge of the white world. When he reached the wall of the shell, a black portal opened in front of him, and Miranda gasped as the air of the Between began to pour out in a great gale.
Beyond, grasping hands shot out, grabbing the Lord of Storms and the Shepherdess, struggling to pull them both into the blackness. The Lord of Storms ignored them. He walked into the dark, carrying the Lady at arm’s length until the darkness swallowed them both. The wind died as the door closed behind them, and Miranda felt her connection to the Lord of Storms snap like a cut thread.
The backlash nearly made her black out, but she forced herself to stay conscious, dragging her body across the floor toward Eli. Wincing with effort, she yanked her hand up and held her fingers under his nose. For several long seconds, nothing happened, and then she felt his faint breath on her skin. Relief flooded through her, and she turned back to the Weaver to see him sitting up, his eyes closed, his hand out toward Eli.
I caught him, the old man said, his voice impossibly tired. He won’t get any worse, though whether or not he gets better is up to him.
Miranda looked back to Eli, her face as pale as the white world around them. “What do we do now?”
The Weaver opened his eyes with an incredulous look as he pulled himself to his feet. We fix the world, he said, spreading his hands out in front of him. What else?
Miranda had no answer to that, so she sat back, watching in wonder as the Weaver flexed his fingers and began to weave.
CHAPTER
25
The Demon of the Dead Mountain’s roar echoed off the cliffs. His claws tore long rents across Nico’s wings, lacerating her shadow-wrapped body and breaking her teeth. Nico ignored the pain, even as one of her wings tore free. Though the demon was much larger than her now, Tesset’s training gave her the edge. Her front teeth were still locked around the demon’s throat, still chewing on the tender black flesh, and though he slammed her against the mountains over and over, she would not let go. She was the master now.
The demon’s struggles grew more frantic, and Nico bit down harder, her claws digging into the joint where the monster’s arm met its body. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the sky breaking apart as more hands thrust down toward the screaming spirits. The world was crumbling, collapsing under the weight of the demon’s hunger. Fragments of the sky fell like snow over mountains that rolled like waves in their fear. The only still peak was the one under their feet. The Dead Mountain stood as solid and black as ever, its empty husk a reminder of what was to come. Never loosening her grip, Nico’s yellow eyes flicked up to the ledge where Josef had fallen. There, too, all was still. All was lost, and yet she would not let go.
The demon was flailing now, his claws scrambling to pry between her teeth from his jaw. Nico snarled and bit down harder, feeling the demon’s furious scream through her grip. The scream grew louder as the demon surged up, his long, hideous arms wrapping around Nico’s torso. She panicked as his grip tightened, thinking he was about to crush her, but the demon did no such thing. Instead, he yanked her away with all his might.
Nico’s hold never faltered, but the demon’s own flesh was not so strong. He tore her off him, taking off a large chunk of his neck and one arm in the process. The demon barely seemed to notice the loss in his fury as he flung her away, his enraged roar shaking the Dead Mountain to its roots.
She landed hard, her claws grabbing the mountain’s peak to keep herself from falling into the sharp rocks below. Down the slope, the Demon of the Dead Mountain was growling at her, his black claws folded around the gaping hole she’d left in his throat. “You always were a dirty fighter,” he rumbled, his three yellow eyes narrowing.
Nico’s answer was to spit out the piece of him she’d torn away. The demon’s flesh was already turning to dust in her mouth. It dissolved completely as it struck the Dead Mountain’s bare slope, and the demon growled deep in what was left of its throat. “Why are you doing this?”
“To stop you,” Nico answered.
“Stop me?” The demon burst out laughing. “Look around, girl. I’m hardly the greatest threat.”
“I don’t care,” Nico snarled. “You killed Josef. I couldn’t stop them all on my own anyway, but I can kill you.”
“No, you can’t,” the demon said. “That was the same mistake your king made, the one called the Creator. He thought he could starve us by locking us away. Make us turn on each other. And I’m sure they did, those mad skeletons, but it didn’t work. Think, child. If demons could kill other demons, there’d be nothing left outside the shell. The Creator’s plan would have worked and the Powers would have led you out to recolonize the emptiness ages ago. But nothing created has ever understood us. Nothing that is born can know the truth of our kind, which is really tragic, because the truth is so simple. We cannot die because we do not live. We are nothingness, the reverse of creation. We are consumption, destruction, the darkness that persists with or without light. You can no more kill us than kill death itself.”
“I don’t care,” Nico said, digging her claws into the stone. “I will fight you.”
“I’m sure you will,” the demon sneered. “You always were a bit stupid that way.” He shook his head, torn neck sliding grotesquely. “What I don’t understand is why you give all that endless, idiot energy fighting for a world
