“You don’t need to come with me, you know,” said Burton. “Once Montague makes the connection, I can handle the rest. I just need you to get him to Demitri. No one else can touch the marble.”
“Before I incarnated I knew what was expected of me,” Rayne said. As much as it hurt to think of leaving Anna again he knew that he had to go with Burton to crash the Nekrum ship. Burton had called to him for help for a reason. And Rayne couldn’t let him carry all the weight. What if Burton, a dying, old man, failed? This was Rayne’s duty—his mission. “This world is more important than either of us. And I’m ready to die for it. I’m ready to die for her.”
“Things change,” said Burton. “You want to set things right? Maybe dying for her isn’t the answer. Why not live for her instead?”
“I have to face him again. I need to.”
“Who?”
Rayne looked at him. “Him,” he said. Burton, of all angels, should know who he meant. He was referring to the entity responsible for all of Planet Naan’s pain.
They called the Nekrum mastermind, Loche.
UNDER A canopy made from the remnants of the Illyrium flag’s torn fabric, Anna Lott sat against a wall of the crippled garden and sketched a picture of the two wizards walking in the street with their hands crossed behind their backs.
Everything that had happened recently changed her: finding her mother at the Mern city and the ceremony that she had been involved in to bring Rayne back into the world of the living. Her knowledge of magic and fairy tales was no longer limited to books and stories. She was now a participant and witness to mythical truths.
Their black and maroon cloaks rounded the old garden fountain several times before Burton separated from the briefing and approached her.
“Only a strong emotional attachment can keep him in this world, my dear. Intimacy often helps,” Burton said. He smiled then winked before walking off.
Rayne stood like a shadow before her. Their eyes met, and she got lost within his infinite stare. This time, he recognized her. She saw the emotion in his eyes—the love. When he smiled, it warmed her from the inside. At that moment, she knew that she was madly in love with the king of Men, her stepbrother, Rayne Volpi, descendent of the creator and an angel of heaven. Under the hood of his black cloak, his hair was the same, long and dark, and his skin was just as silky and gray as Anna remembered. At only ten years old, he looked like an adult.
Rayne came under her makeshift canopy and sat next to her. She craved his touch, wanting to taste his lips. But he seemed timid.
Hoping to relax him, Anna placed her palm over his hand. “I’ve missed you so much. Burton told me what happened to you and what those men did to you. I’m so sorry,” Anna stuttered. “Where did you go when you died?”
“Nowhere,” Rayne said. “And everywhere. It’s even hard for me to understand. At first I felt helpless, like I was trapped behind the world’s mirror. I could see, but I couldn’t touch. I roamed the land like the clouds above.” He looked at her. “Now, I can see everything. I can see moments from multiple angles, like I am not one, but many. I can even see people’s thoughts and feel their feelings if I wanted to.”
Anna inched closer. She slid her hand from his and rested it on his leg. “Can you see my feelings?”
“I haven’t looked. I wouldn’t invade my lady’s privacy.”
“Well, you should.” Anna wanted him to. Then he would know her love for him. “What does it feel like on the other side?”
“Lighter…like a vibration,” he said. “Free.”
“A vibration?”
“Yes,” said Rayne.
The urge to touch his body, his skin, became unbearable. And she wanted to experience the sensation for herself. “Show me,” said Anna.
Rayne leaned in. Anna closed her eyes. And at the moment their lips touched, Anna felt her body become weightless. The material world around her dissolved as if lost in a dream. Within feathered wings, he caressed her as their tongues danced between interlocking lips. Even his cloak touched her and rubbed her, feeling the curves of her body. They made love over and over, floating through the seas of space and time for what felt like days, weeks. She wished that they would never come back. If only they could stay there, in that timeless moment of twilight, together.
The evening behind the veil burned with exhausting passion. Rayne made love to her not only with his body, but with his heart.
From this vantage, Anna saw her world from a higher perspective; higher than the highest mountain. It was just as Montague once told her: ‘Truth can be found at the top of your own mountain.’ He’d told her that real truth cannot be read or told. It can only be witnessed. And from that bird’s-eye-view, Anna saw the bringers of death coming. They would reach Illyrium by the darkest night of the year, when both moons aligned and their opposing light cancelled each other out, leaving an hour of lightless sky. The surface of the river would appear ash-black without a single reflection. The Merns called it Water’s Night.
Burton Lang had sent a letter to Demitri days ago, informing him that the newly revived Resistance, consisting of both Ikarus and Graleon soldiers, would not bow to a tyrannical king. Although no one knew where Indrid rode off, he made sure to
