Page 228 of The Edge of Darkness

Torin took a breath, steadying herself. “What you sacrifice, Nivelle, is for the good of your kind, just as I once tried to do.”

“Stop glorifying this! Stop trying to make it seem like everything is perfect when it’s not!” The words echoed through the atmosphere as she spat them, and Torin flinched. “You keep telling me it’s for the good of my kind—that one day we will prosper like we once did! But I have yet to see it! The witches who lived back then are long dead, and those who are alive today lose more hope at the turn of every century! I am asking for a means to break the Aether’s curse, which will, in turn, aid the fae in this war. It will give them an advantage against Lyceius when Aremis unleashes it on the battlefield. And when they win—when we win—we can finally be free of this place, and I will no longer have to give away my power!”

My breath caught in my chest.

Did she just say she has been giving away her power?

“And what happens if the fae lose?” Torin challenged. “What happens if you go and get yourself killed for one of them? What you are asking—what you are wanting to do . . . I cannot take chances like that.”

“Then why offer to send me to the fae realm in the first place?”

“Because I trust you.”

“You trust that I will do as you ask and obey your rules, but you do not trust me to make decisions that will benefit this world and us?”

“I am looking out for my creation⁠—

“So am I!” Nivelle pushed to her feet, hands fisted at her sides. “All I have ever done my entire life is sacrifice myself for the good of others! I have preached your ways and done your bidding without protest! I stepped into my dead mother’s role as wardeness so that my brother was not cast out! I have done everything you have asked of me! I’ve wielded dark magic in your stead, and I wear the marks from it that should have been yours!” Her voice was borderline screaming now. “I keep giving my power away for you, over and over, and yet you deny me the only thing I have ever asked for?”

Torin was quiet for a heartbeat . . . two . . . “You think you know everything, but there is still much you do not yet understand. I want the fae to succeed in their efforts against Lyceius—that is why I am pledging the Dionachs to their cause—but I will not put you in harm’s way.”

“Because of your selfish ambitions?”

Torin bristled.

“Say it.” Nivelle nudged her chin at the goddess. “You know it’s true.”

“It is not a selfish ambition! It is because, without your sacrifice of power, I will eventually fade in this world! And if I fade, this illusion fades, and so does everything it provides. Shelter, sustenance, all of it will be gone, and you and your kind will be subjected to life on a barren, volcanic rock, until each of you die. Until the entire race of witches and Dionachs are lost.” She paused, and Nivelle stood in stunned silence, taking in the goddess’s revelation. “Year by year, without ritual sacrifices, the well of my power dries up. Before you came along, I was continuously growing weaker. So you see, this existence that I have fought so hard for—for every witch and Dionach—now hangs by a delicate thread. I cannot risk losing you, or else I risk the lives of all the others.”

“So, if Niall would have never asked for our help, you would have just sat back and used me until I was drained dry of my power?”

“For what it’s worth, I do not think you will ever run out of power. Your gift is special, and you are stronger than any witch who has ever existed, both on Skotos, and here. But to answer your question . . . I would have used your power for as long as you offered it, and in the meantime, I would continue searching for a way to avoid my demise, for all my creation’s sake.” She stepped closer to Nivelle. “I can see why you resent me so much. Yet, despite your resentment, you have always been devoted, and I have never thanked you for that.”

“I . . . I never knew.”

“And still, you wanted to help. The fates placed a burden on you as much as they did on me.”

“No.” Nivelle shook her head. “The fates placed a burden on Auren. Auren is prophesied to win this war and usher in a new age, which means that the fae will win.”

“But at what cost, Nivelle?”

The two of them remained quiet, weighing all the words that had just been let out into the world.

I studied Torin, watching the way she regarded Nivelle. The goddess cared, but I could tell she still had much to hide, and her resolve had not been softened by this conversation. There was pain behind her eyes as she stared at the devout witch before her. She looked as if she was about to open her mouth and utter the final stand-down order, but before she could, I slid from the branch and stalked toward them.

Nivelle didn’t turn around to reprimand me. She remained where she stood and lifted her chin as I came up to her side, as if my presence gave her courage.

“I may not be a Dionach, but I will protect Nivelle with my life,” I said to Torin. “She can do what needs to be done. I’m sure of it.”

Torin, stunned at my presence, and looking just as wary that someone other than Nivelle had been privy to this conversation, stared back at me, until she seemed to recognize me from the garden. Her eyes shifted between Nivelle and me, and she tilted her head, squinting her eyes as if sensing or seeing something there that we could not. “What is this?”

Nivelle remained steady. “You have no right to be concerned about my personal life.”

“Given all that you have just learned, I figured you would think otherwise.” She scanned me from head to toe. “You have mated with this male?”

“Witches bed different beings all the time,” Nivelle said in her own defense.

“For procreation. Not for love.”