distorted, gray body. He kissed his forehead. The dry, cold skin was already more like dust than life.
Roan closed his eyes. It should be getting easier the closer he came to becoming goblin. Instead, the golden heart in his chest ached. He placed his hand on the wooden boat that was fresh from the dockyard. Someone would curse the loss of the Summer Breeze . Anfri deserved the best, not a wreck for his funeral.
“Meryn, wherever you are, may you find peace. I’m sorry.” One with the Hoard. Trapped forever by the loss of his soul and Roan’s failure to notice. Those first few days in the Shadowlands had been a confused jumble of survival and summons. The loss of Meryn had placed their new reality in striking distance. His fading had been a hard lesson for them all to learn.
“Brac.” Killed by the druid. The first send-off he’d had to do. Roan swallowed. There’d not been much left to burn.
“Fane.” He closed his eyes. Fane had taken his own life. Not because he was turning, but because he couldn’t live only in nightmares. Consumed by despair, he’d left a heavier burden on the living.
“Anfri.” Roan’s ribs became brittle, crushed by the weight of the metal that made up his heart. His voice fractured.
“Celebrate in the hall of the gods and pray we meet between lives,” Dai finished for him.
Unable to speak, Roan lifted his goblet to his lips. He sipped the bloodred wine, then poured the rest into the dirt. The ground blackened then dried, desperate for the acid rain that rarely fell.
In the gold chamber Dai’s skin had grayed. If not for Eliza, they would have turned on each other, then faded to goblin and fought to the death. Now she watched the funeral. Not as one of them but as an interloper, because she refused to be queen.
High above a crow circled. How the druid knew when one died, Roan didn’t want to know. He ignored the harsh, taunting cries and pushed the boat into the river. It spun around seeking the nonexistent current. The river didn’t flow, instead it swelled and sucked like a leech on the landscape. Roan raised his hand in farewell and created the funeral fire for Anfri. The cost to his soul was worth it. Anfri had served him for far longer than any man should have to serve a king.
The river burned by his will, swallowing the boat, the body, the warrior. Roan sucked in a breath tainted by the scent of burning flesh. The flames offered an end. An end to the curse and the endless wait for peace. He stepped forward, knowing that even though there was no heat in the fire, the flames would destroy him. Who would light the fire for him and Dai?
Dai rested his hand on his forearm. “Not yet, brother.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“I still have hope of a cure.” A smile graced Dai’s lips, but no light lit his eyes. For the first time Dai had responded to gold like a goblin should. No amount of hope would save them from fading.
Roan watched the crow draw closer. Dai’s activities hadn’t escaped his notice.
“Your mystery treasure hunt?” He turned to face his brother. “You spend all your time reading or in burial chambers. When did you last go to the Fixed Realm for something other than your quest?”
Dai’s grip on his goblet tightened. “I’m close.”
“Then I hope you find it before I am out of time.” Roan turned his back to the flames. Their siren song would have to wait. The crow circled to land. “Go to Eliza.”
Dai obeyed, crossing the distance to where she watched wide-eyed as the river burned.
The large crow touched the dust then shook its feathers. Out of the ruffle the druid rose. His brown hair and beard were unchanged by time because, as a human, he was unable to leave the Shadowlands via people’s nightmares. Like all druids he carried no weapons, but then he had no need when the magic he commanded could make even the ground obey.
The druid Elryion watched the burning river. “Another one succumbed.” He didn’t bother to hide the
Roan closed his eyes. It should be getting easier the closer he came to becoming goblin. Instead, the golden heart in his chest ached. He placed his hand on the wooden boat that was fresh from the dockyard. Someone would curse the loss of the Summer Breeze . Anfri deserved the best, not a wreck for his funeral.
“Meryn, wherever you are, may you find peace. I’m sorry.” One with the Hoard. Trapped forever by the loss of his soul and Roan’s failure to notice. Those first few days in the Shadowlands had been a confused jumble of survival and summons. The loss of Meryn had placed their new reality in striking distance. His fading had been a hard lesson for them all to learn.
“Brac.” Killed by the druid. The first send-off he’d had to do. Roan swallowed. There’d not been much left to burn.
“Fane.” He closed his eyes. Fane had taken his own life. Not because he was turning, but because he couldn’t live only in nightmares. Consumed by despair, he’d left a heavier burden on the living.
“Anfri.” Roan’s ribs became brittle, crushed by the weight of the metal that made up his heart. His voice fractured.
“Celebrate in the hall of the gods and pray we meet between lives,” Dai finished for him.
Unable to speak, Roan lifted his goblet to his lips. He sipped the bloodred wine, then poured the rest into the dirt. The ground blackened then dried, desperate for the acid rain that rarely fell.
In the gold chamber Dai’s skin had grayed. If not for Eliza, they would have turned on each other, then faded to goblin and fought to the death. Now she watched the funeral. Not as one of them but as an interloper, because she refused to be queen.
High above a crow circled. How the druid knew when one died, Roan didn’t want to know. He ignored the harsh, taunting cries and pushed the boat into the river. It spun around seeking the nonexistent current. The river didn’t flow, instead it swelled and sucked like a leech on the landscape. Roan raised his hand in farewell and created the funeral fire for Anfri. The cost to his soul was worth it. Anfri had served him for far longer than any man should have to serve a king.
The river burned by his will, swallowing the boat, the body, the warrior. Roan sucked in a breath tainted by the scent of burning flesh. The flames offered an end. An end to the curse and the endless wait for peace. He stepped forward, knowing that even though there was no heat in the fire, the flames would destroy him. Who would light the fire for him and Dai?
Dai rested his hand on his forearm. “Not yet, brother.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“I still have hope of a cure.” A smile graced Dai’s lips, but no light lit his eyes. For the first time Dai had responded to gold like a goblin should. No amount of hope would save them from fading.
Roan watched the crow draw closer. Dai’s activities hadn’t escaped his notice.
“Your mystery treasure hunt?” He turned to face his brother. “You spend all your time reading or in burial chambers. When did you last go to the Fixed Realm for something other than your quest?”
Dai’s grip on his goblet tightened. “I’m close.”
“Then I hope you find it before I am out of time.” Roan turned his back to the flames. Their siren song would have to wait. The crow circled to land. “Go to Eliza.”
Dai obeyed, crossing the distance to where she watched wide-eyed as the river burned.
The large crow touched the dust then shook its feathers. Out of the ruffle the druid rose. His brown hair and beard were unchanged by time because, as a human, he was unable to leave the Shadowlands via people’s nightmares. Like all druids he carried no weapons, but then he had no need when the magic he commanded could make even the ground obey.
The druid Elryion watched the burning river. “Another one succumbed.” He didn’t bother to hide the
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