“Irianna!” She narrowed her eyes at her younger sister. Her hand went to her chest reflexively, but to her surprise, she didn’t feel any pain.

  “Yes, Irielle.” Irianna rose from her seat by the window and came back to hug her, but Irielle pushed her away.

  She finally knew why they had never gotten along. Irianna was shallow, and petty. . .and didn’t care about anyone but herself. “Why are you here?”

  “You’re the talk of Renwyn! Returning from the Ardak prison, suffering the Red Death! You were barely brought to us in time. I thought even Queen Aielle might not be able to save you.”

  Of course. Irianna could never resist being part of the latest gossip. But she had more important things to think about. “Queen Aielle gave me the cure?”

  Irianna’s reassuring smile was bright. “That’s right. You’re as well as the rest of us. Though, you might want to take it easy after everything you’ve been through.”

  “I don’t want to take it easy. Where is Simban?”

  Irianna shook her head, her golden hair cascading around her shoulders. Her eyes creased. “Who?”

  “The cyborg who brought me back here. Is he all right?” Irielle remembered that Simban had been terribly wounded himself.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone else since I’ve been here, and I’ve been by your side, day and night.”

  Irielle nearly rolled her eyes. Her sister had always had a flair for the dramatic. But then her words sank in. “No one came to visit? Not even Mama and Papa?”

  “No, they said they’ll see you when you get well.”

  Irielle’s heart sank a little at that. She’d almost died, and her own parents didn’t want to see her. Some things never changed.

  She threw back the covers, sat up, and then jumped out of bed. Her heart was pounding, her blood racing. She needed to see Simban. To make sure he was okay.

  “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Irianna tittered. “You’ve only just been healed.”

  “I feel fine,” she quickly reassured her sister. She began to don the fresh clothing her sister had brought, almost laughing at the lacy undergarments.

  “You look just terrible, sister,” Irianna commented. “You’ve lost so much weight, and your skin is still a ghastly color.”

  “Thank you for noticing,” Irielle replied dryly. When she was dressed, she ran to the door, opening it and sprinting down the hall toward the main foyer.

  She spotted two guards. “Do you know where Simban is?”

  “He was here, miss. But after five minutes with your sister, he stormed off and hasn’t come back since.”

  “What?” She stumbled backward, and the guard reached forward, catching her. When she turned to look for her sister, the woman was nowhere to be found.

  Please tell me he didn’t leave me here with my family.

  A hopeless agony burned through her chest, and her eyes filled with hot tears. Her greatest fear was coming true. How had her sister managed to turn him against her so quickly? What had Irianna told him? Did she tell him how her intended had left her or how she’d never lived up to their expectations?

  Or had he simply realized she wasn’t good enough for him?

  Her heart tore into a million tiny pieces at the thought and scattered with the wind for a moment.

  But then logic took over.

  He liked me, I know he did.

  My sister did this.

  A murderous rage the likes of which she’d never known before came over her. She whirled and ran back down the corridor toward her room.

  Throwing open the door, she stalked toward her sister. “What did you tell him?”

  Irianna stood there, mouth agape. “Who? I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Irielle’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped a hand’s width from her sister’s face. “The guards said he was in here with you.”

  Her sister put her hands on her hips and sniffed. “Fine. I made him promise never to see you again. He’s just a broken, worthless cyborg . . .”

  Irielle pulled her arm back and punched her sister straight in her devious mouth, hard enough to make her knuckles hurt.

  Irianna fell backward, catching herself on the bedpost before bursting into tears.

  Good. “I hope that hurt. You’re a bitch, Irianna. I never want to see you again.”

  Big, fat crocodile tears ran down Irianna’s face, and Aethen chose that moment to walk through the door.

  “Take her and get out,” Irielle ordered him.

  “Not even a hello?” Aethen asked. Then his eyes rounded as he spied the swelling beginning on his mate’s face, and he went to wrap his arms around her. When he turned to Irielle, there was a flash of something in his eyes that might have been admiration. “You did this? You’ve never had this much spirit before.”

  “That’s because I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.” She grabbed her elven jacket, and on further inspection, she found a knife in the inside pocket.

  It was Simban’s knife. He had left it for her.

  She picked it up, pointing it straight at her sister’s sobbing face. “If you’ve lost him for me, I will make you pay.”

  “I did you a favor!” Irianna screamed, sobbing loudly.

  “Never do me another one,” Irielle retorted. Then her voice turned deadly. “If he’s gone, I’ll be back. Now, get the fuck out of my room.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Simban

  Simban tried to get Irielle out of his mind, tried to tell himself he’d done the right thing. But it was very fucking difficult.

  The elves in the village had been grateful for the cure, and he knew he’d done the right thing in coming up to help disperse it. They were in Geeeroo’s hut, trying to find out about the Crystal Cave. If they could find more crystals, it would greatly increase the elves’ magic.

  As it turned out, Theoduin and Ryoduin had gone back to the first cave after they left, deciphering the ancient symbols.

  “I believe we know where to go to find it, but we do not know who might fulfill the foretelling,” Ryoduin finished.

  “I think we should send a scout team there to check it out,” Tordan said, and Geeeroo nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll go,” Roihan offered.

  “Me, too,” Valdjan seconded.

  They both turned to him.

  “All right,” Simban said heavily. “Let’s do this.”

  He’d been hoping it would help him stop thinking of Irielle. But as he trudged through the snow behind Roihan, Valdjan, and Ryoduin, all he could think about was how he’d spent so much time trudging through the snow with her.

  Ryoduin was leading them northeast and was talking with Valdjan about Renwyn. Ryoduin wanted to know everything about the elven city, and Valdjan was happy to tell him everything he knew about it.

  Roihan gave a long-suffering sigh, demonstrating what Simban could only feel. They shared a pained expression between them. But the other two didn’t seem to notice.

  Simban didn’t know how Tordan had convinced Roihan to stay with the team when Aria had taken the ship back to Renwyn. He never would have left Irielle if she had agreed to be with him.

  He sighed and hit his hand on his forehead. Hard.

  He had to stop thinking about her, but he couldn’t. There was an empty space where his heart used to be.

  He knew leaving had been the right thing to do. But he hated it.

  Even though he really didn’t mind coming on the mission. All the cyborgs had certain skills, but Roihan had been programmed by the Ardaks specifically for engineering in the mines, so he was the best choice to lead this mission. Finding crystals in an underground cave, and engineering a way to access and retrieve them was his specialty. Simban had knowledge of the Ardak language and he knew some ancient Elvish, which made him an asset.

  Around midday, they cleared a fallen log and a couple of boulders, and Ryoduin warmed them with his fire magic as they sat down for lunch.

  Roihan opened his mouth. “Tell us the foretelling again.”

  Ryoduin began to recite it.

  “Alone they shall come, but alike they be

  Past the end of the world to seek truth within

  The first, who believes he’s lost all, shall find the key

  To pow’r greater than any on earth or heaven

  The unmade reborn, the remade undone

  The second, whose cause is true, shall free the enemy

  On their strength lies the fate of every last one

  The echoes rippling throughout eternity.”

  Ryoduin went silent for a moment. “Of course, it would be more helpful if we knew what it meant.”

  “Yes, or if it had names of the two who could come,” Roihan mused. “Past the end of the world. One has to wonder what that means.”

  They journeyed on until it was late afternoon. The shadows were lengthening, and Roihan was subtly looking for places to make camp. The land had risen over the afternoon hike until they were all breathing harder from the altitude.

  Valdjan and Ryoduin, who were in the lead, stopped, exclamations of wonder coming from them.

  As they approached, Simban realized they were standing on the edge of a cliff.

  Not a tiny cliff. In fact, the clouds were below, stretching as far as the eye can see. He tried to peer through them, but there was no way to tell how far down the bottom might be.

  “The end of the world,” Simban muttered.

  “Well, at least now we know where it is,” Valdjan commented.

  “One who has nothing to lose shall find the key,” Roihan mused.

  “Nothing to lose,” Valdjan muttered angrily. “Nothing to lose? We all have something to lose! Like our lives.”

  Simban stepped forward until he was on the very edge of the rock face, and something happened to him. It began as a feeling, and it grew inside him until he knew.

  The foretelling was about him.

  “It’s me,” he said, almost stepping off.

  Valdjan caught his arm. “No, it is not! You have me, asshole.”

  Simban shook his head. Foretellings didn’t work like that. The oracle meant someone who had no hope. He’d lost everything, even his heart. He knew, deep in his soul, it should be him. “Lost Irielle. No hope.”

  Simban tried to push his brother away.

  “Wait.” Roihan grabbed his other arm and pulled him back. “There’s no way to know whether this is it. Whether the foretelling meant that you should throw yourself off a cliff.”

  “Come on.” Simban gestured at the endless clouds going out as far as the eye could see. “End of the world.”

  He looked at Ryoduin for support, but the elf was impassive. “It isn’t for me to say.”

  Valdjan shot him an angry look.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Roihan asked.

  For the first time, Simban choked. “Then tell Irielle . . .” His jaw worked, but no words would come out. A wave of grief went through him.

  If I’m wrong, I’ll never see her again.

  And then his grief turned to anger.

  I’ll never see her again anyway.

  Fuck his broken chip. His broken brain. His broken body. Fuck everyone who thought he was less than them because he was slower.

  Fuck everything but Irielle.

  And even she was lost to him.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, shrugging them off. And without another look at any of them, he clenched his fists and charged at the canyon, shouting in rage as he jumped over the side.

  He fell into the clouds, punching them as he went, wishing they were the gods themselves. If this was to be his death, he would die fighting whatever he could.

  So angry!

  Angry about the Ardaks.

  Angry about his broken chip.

  And angry that he’d had to give up the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.

  Angry that her glowing golden-brown eyes would probably be mesmerizing one of those evil village elves soon.

  Too good for me!

  He punched at the clouds until he was tired of it and then ran his fingers through his damp hair. At that moment, he began to slow. The air grew warmer, and he burst out below the clouds into a place where the sun was shining.

  Elven magic!

  For some reason, that made him even angrier.

  He floated downward slower and slower until he met the land as light as a feather touching down.

  “Elf!” he shouted, rage in his voice. “Elf!”

  How dare this elf make me think I would die, only to leave me alive.

  How can I live without Irielle?

  Pain suffused his body, almost knocking him to his knees.

  “Well, if it isn’t the one who thinks he’s lost everything,” came a feminine voice from the shadows, thick with sarcasm. “You’re as self-absorbed as I thought you’d be.”

  That stopped him. Self-absorbed?

  He couldn’t quite see her in the shadows. Simban hit the side of his head, trying to make his ocular implants work, but it didn’t help.

  “All he wants is within his grasp, yet he throws it away as he was thrown away.”

  Simban scratched his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “True love.”

  He looked around, trying to find her. Finding no one, he was more confused than ever. “What?” He hadn’t thrown Irielle away. He loved her and had let her go so she could have a better life.

  And what the hell was heartspeak? He’d heard the elves from the hidden village had different, stronger magic. Maybe it was a strange new power, known only to her.

  Why can’t she say anything that makes sense?

  She sniffed. “Come, cyborg, let me heartspeak you. I need to know if you’re the one.”

  “What? Who are you?”

  “I am Aethyll, the Guardian of the Crystal Cave. Come here now,” she said in a tone that brooked no resistance.

  He hesitantly stepped forward. When he entered the shadows, his eyes adjusted, and he could see her clearly for the first time.

  Her long, pure white hair fell thick and straight to her waist. Pale skin of the purest white, and eyes glowing with liquid gold. She was wearing a filmy white gown that seemed to float around her as if it defied the law of density.

  Besides his own elf, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But it was a scary kind of beauty. Ethereal, otherworldly. He didn’t know if he’d ever be comfortable around it.

  She put her hand over his heart, and heat spread outward from where her delicate fingers made contact. Pure peace swept over him—a feeling of oneness with the planet, with all life.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Such pain,” she murmured, her mouth tightening. “So much loss.”

  The feeling went on, and he could almost feel her in his brain. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation of peace.

  This elf’s magic is so strong . . .

  Without warning, she broke the connection.

  He opened his eyes to see that hers were bright with unshed tears.

  “Why has it come to this?” she asked no one in particular.

  He shrugged, not knowing how to answer.

  She lowered her hand and the feeling began to dissipate. He reluctantly stepped backward, wishing he could have stayed in the feeling forever. Even his physical pain was lessened.

  After a few moments, she seemed to shake off her grief. “So many of these things happened before you were born,” she informed him. “They aren’t your fault.”

  He wanted to ask, but had no idea what to ask. “What . . . do you mean?”

  She waved the question away. “I have judged you wrongly,” she said harshly. “But you must understand, I’ve been waiting a thousand years for the one. I knew your story but not the man. And what’s in your heart has proven your worth. Follow me.”

  Simban didn’t move. “Why me?”

  “Because you are the first one of the foretelling. If you didn’t believe you’d lost everything, death would have met you.” She waved a hand, and the flat bottom of the canyon and the river disappeared. In its place was a barren wasteland, filled with enormous spikes of rock of various sizes.

  Simban shuddered at the idea of being impaled. It would have been a brutal, painful death. “Then why heartspeak?”

  “Because magic is fallible,” she replied guilelessly. “And besides, I wanted to see for myself. Come now.” She beckoned him to follow with her hand, and this time, he went, feeling that he should obey her. She led him deeper into a cave in the side of the canyon wall.

  The moment he took a step, his right leg developed a hitch again. “Elf,” he said softly. “Can you . . . heal me?”

  Her eyes touched the floor briefly before returning to his. “Alas, I cannot. For while your heart and spirit remain broken, so shall your mind and body be.”

  “All . . . broken.”

  She turned to him, true grief in her eyes. “Your pain is real. A tangible thing that weaves around you. But it did not break you. In fact, it made you stronger. And the fact that you truly believe you are unworthy of love . . .” A tear fell from one of her golden eyes.

  He watched its path down her cheek. “I would not . . . love me.”

  “Oh, but, Simban,” she said emphatically, her eyes bright. “You would. That was why she was dying when she came to you. It was a test from the fates.”

  “A test?”

  “Yes. You passed.” She paused. “And you failed.”

  She strode to the back of the cave, where no opening existed, only a golden keyhole in the center of the wall. She noticed him eyeing it. “No, that is not for you. For you are not the one whose heart is true. That one will have to face the tests . . .”

  “Tests?”

  “Yes. Three tests to prove their worth. Then they may open the Crystal Cave.” She knelt before a small box and opened it. “This is for you. If you use it wisely, it will give you one more chance.”

  His heart rose.

  “A chance?”

  She took a crystal from a separate collection in a wooden box. “The only way to stop your pain is to fix how you have wronged the one you love.” The ancient elder’s eyes held no pity for him. “Take this to your true love. Fight for her.”