Chapter 27

Lungs convulsing for breath I cannot pull, I grope at the water, the river dumping me against rocks that pummel and pierce.

I dredge through the surface of the raging current with a coughing, retching heave. A torrent of thick, putrid liquid pours up my throat, lost to the violent churn of frothy rapids dragging me away—my surroundings a blur of blue and white.

I fist the talon and try to heave it out, screaming as I’m jerked against a rock so hard it shifts the weapon sideways, digging deeper into my rotten flesh.

Get out of the river.

Just get out of the fucking river.

I’m tossed around like driftwood, water punching up my nose and sloshing over my head. The current lugs me around a sharp bend toward a burbling abyss, and I choke down a breath before being sucked down the steep deluge, spat out into a steady stream of calmer water that allows me a moment to breathe.

Look around.

I catch sight of a low-hanging branch a second too late, trying to thrash against the current, fingers brushing it before my body loses strength. I’m ripped beneath the water, tumbling, mining the strength to move.

To try again.

Seeing her face on the backs of my lids.

Roaring, my muscles power into action, and I punch above the surface again, heaving my leaden arm up to snag a vine draped from another low-hanging branch. I lash against a boulder with bone-buckling force, my chest absorbing the brunt. A blade of pain impales me, forcing more liquid from my lungs with a bubbling choke.

Black dots blot my vision, multiplying, and my next heartbeat is slower than the last …

No—

With a growl, I plow through the blur and whip my other arm around the large, slippery boulder, my entire body clinging to its weight. Sharp ridges slice into my waterlogged hands as the current yanks at my legs and threatens to snatch me under.

I heft myself farther up the rock, one painful drag at a time, until I reach a plateau where I can roll onto my back. Groaning, I grit my teeth, looking down at the talon’s hilt protruding from my chest, haunted by visions of her hand wrapped around it.

Fuck.

I grip it and pull.

It tears through the ladder of ribs with a bolt of searing pain and a gush of rank-smelling blood. I throw my head back and roar.

The sky shakes, krah swarming as I put pressure on my ruptured chest. I look up, forcing my focus to narrow on my surroundings, wheezing through shredded echoes of the paralyzing pain.

I’m at the base of a ravine, sandwiched between sheer walls of dark-blue stone, scarce light shooting through the jungle’s thick canopy.

Still in Bahari.

Through the gaps, ribbons of color dash across the ripening sky.

Evening.

No.

How long have I been out for? A day? Two?

More?

I hunt the few patches of sky, desperate for a glimpse of the moon so I can map its phase.

A frantic surge swells inside me when I fail to find it.

I exhale a rattling breath and roll sideways, coughing foul-tasting bile across the rocks while I cup that tiny seed notched in my chest, alight with a twinkling shine, its delicate roots woven deep where they belong.

Relief loosens some of the muscles in my chest and throat, making my next breath easier.

Smoother.

“Keep beating.” The order is growled as I push onto all fours, looking up at the sheer cliff from between the gaps in my sodden hair.

My heart plummets.

It can’t be higher than fifteen feet, but right now—with a half-healed hole in my guts and leg and a split in my heart—it looks like a fucking mountain.

Just keep fucking beating.

With the talon still clutched in my fist, I crawl, stumble, and slide across algae-slicked rocks, black blood leaking from the rotten wound in my chest. I reach the vertical cliff, mapping its clefts and bumps, ignoring the black blots gathering in my vision like a swarm of flies.

I push to a swaying stand and slam my fist forward, impaling the talon deep into the rock face a foot above my head. Tightening my grip on the hilt, I hang my weight and lift myself with a chest-cleaving howl, certain my entrails are spilling from the puncture in my gut.

That the muscles in my thigh are fraying.

I dig my fingers into a cleft in the stone, scuff my sodden boot against another, then rip the talon free and swing myself higher. Stab the talon deep again.

Again.

More black blots muddy my vision, my body growing cold and heavy, forcing me to pause. I glance down at the sharp and slippery rocks below …

Not now.

I’ll fucking die again.

I tighten my grip on the talon as the world begins to blur, Orlaith’s past words grating across my heart.

My soul.

I just love you so much it hurts.

I roar to the sky and the stone and this hole in my fucking chest stealing all my strength, wondering if she can hear me shredding the air as I rip the talon free and stab it into the rock. More blood oozes from my split chest, pushing between clenched teeth, bubbling past my tight lips.

She has no idea what’s coming for her.

Ipull and stab, pull and stab, finally hauling myself over the ledge. I flop down upon steady ground, wrestling wisps of breath.

You’re the happily ever after I don’t deserve.

A deep, gravelly laugh scrapes up my throat, wet and sticky, reeking of the rot leaching through my veins.

You can’t escape me, Milaje. You’ll have to trap me in an iron coffin and drop me in the middle of the fucking ocean, and even then, I’ll haunt your dreams.

Your nightmares.

I’ll haunt you even when you try to die.

My tattoos chew as I swipe at my chest, snagging the length of leather hanging around my neck.

The muscles beneath my tongue tingle …

No.

Snarling, I shove to a stand, more warmth oozing down my torso. I wobble, slamming against a mossy tree, finding the other side bare.

South.

I lift a heavy boot. Thud it down.

Another step.

Another.

I keep moving, shoving past waxy shrubs, shouldering trees, hand clawing at my chest like it wants to gouge between my ribs and cradle that twinkling seed.

Just get to her …

I just have to get to her.

My stuttering heart slows, breaths staggering. My head goes light and airy, shadows dancing at the edge of my vision.

“Stay awake!” I wheeze past the rotten muck gathering in my lungs. Drowning me a little more with each wet heave.

My limbs grow heavier, and I swear the soil begins to ripple beneath me, making each step less steady than the last. My knees give way, and I hit the ground like a boulder.

A familiar deadly chill slips through my veins, and my head rolls to the side, like the world’s tipping …

“Fuck,” I gurgle as the blackness chomps down.