She couldn’t bring herself to do it, though.
Doing so wouldn’t be killing his physical body, but it still felt like murder. Memories shaped identity. Brandt had lost weeks. She considered wiping away years. If she took those years away, would he return to being a child in a man’s body?
Too many questions plagued her mind. She took a step away, separating herself from Jace’s past.
Alena still felt her brother’s soul. She imagined it as a glowing sphere, a hardened but brittle shell around it.
As she imagined it, so it was. Her thoughts and will had power in this plane.
She imagined her father’s knife in her hand, and there it was. It would be so easy to reach out and cut that shell away from her brother’s soul. But if she did, what would result? She was no soulwalker. She had no idea how to manipulate a person’s actions.
She stood there, floating in a place she couldn’t describe or understand, before making a decision. Her instincts had guided her well thus far, and she had no other tutelage. With luck, she wouldn’t cause permanent harm to her brother.
And if she wasn’t lucky, the cost was still worth paying.
Alena returned to Jace’s memories, going back, back before Kye had any bearing on their lives. She searched for times when the two of them had been together, when she had earned his adoration.
The moments were far fewer than she would have liked. As she saw herself in his memories, she saw how little time she had given him, how little she had respected his enthusiasm. He had looked up to her and she had barely noticed him.
The thought pained her, but she kept searching, finding suitable memories. The time she carried him to the infirmary after he’d injured himself at academy. When she had volunteered to complete some of his chores so he could play with friends.
The moments were rare, but whenever she found one, she pulled on it, enlarging it. Memory after memory, all the times she had acted like the big sister he believed her to be.
Then she backed out of his memories. She held out her hands and a blanket appeared.
Alena looked at her brother’s soul, then down at the blanket, imbuing it with what will she could.
I would never harm my sister.
The deception tore at her. As her arm could currently attest, he had no problem hurting his sister. But some part of him still thought of her as family. Hopefully this would be enough.
She tossed the blanket over the construct she’d created of his soul, tying the blanket shut with a thin rope.
Then she stepped away.
Somewhere, far away, she felt the pressure on her arm disappear.
And then she was back in the chamber, her face pressed against the stone. She heard an unfamiliar sound. She looked up.
Jace had retreated and was curled up in a tight ball, his arms wrapped around his knees. He rocked back and forth, staring at his hands as though they had committed an atrocity.
It had worked.
She wanted to run to him and hold him in her arms. Though he was now taller and larger than her, curled up as he was, he looked like a young boy. And he was terrified of what he had done.
Alena worked her way to her feet. As she had feared, her right arm was nearly useless. She walked over to where Jace had thrown her father’s knife, gripping it tightly in her left hand.
Jace didn’t move from his position.
She hated herself for what she had done.
But it was necessary.
If she could, she would fix it. But the blue glow coming from down the hall was a constant reminder that a more terrible threat remained.
Alena took a step toward Jace and he scooted back. She held out her hand. “Stay here, Jace. I’ll be back for you soon.”
He didn’t reply, but there wasn’t time for her to comfort him. She turned and ran toward the blue light.
65
Brandt rolled onto his stomach, then immediately regretted the decision. Every movement unleashed a new flood of pain, and he thought he could feel the blood leaving. He didn’t have many heartbeats left. Every one needed to matter.
With a groan, he pushed himself to hands and knees, his bloody clothes peeling away from the stone.
He gasped as he came to his knees. The final door was only about five paces away, but it might as well have been a hundred leagues. There was no way he could get to his feet.
Brandt grimaced. He would not give up. When he died and joined the other wolfblades, the only way he could meet their gazes was if he had given everything.
He couldn’t stand, but he could crawl.
On hands and knees, he made his way toward the door, more of the final chamber becoming visible. He held Kye’s diamond in his hand, the edges cutting deeper into his hand as he crawled.
The two soulwalkers still knelt in front of the gate. Their eyes were open but unseeing. Brandt didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but he would take every moment they offered him.
When he got to the door, he finally saw the gate for the first time. It was an arch, made of glowing blue diamonds.
It reminded him of the gate he had seen so many years ago, when infection had almost killed him. The stones appeared uncut, but fit together perfectly.
And within the arch?
Nothing.
Just air, with the stone walls of the chamber visible behind it.
Brandt collapsed. His body couldn’t go any farther. But hopefully it would be close enough. He closed his eyes and let his affinity flow through the diamond he still clutched.
He wasn’t prepared for the power that battered him. The moment he allowed his affinity to flow through the diamond in his hand, his world exploded in
