Page 172 of Vasmora

Not a single person around me twitched a muscle.

“You ask for my mercy, yet deny me my freedom.”

The familiar voice came from behind, and I twisted around to find Morsana standing alongside Raivox, petting his leg. “Were you not the same girl who begged me for your last breath, hmmm?”

“That was before I knew Zevander was alive.”

She sauntered over to him, allowing her blackened fingertips to dance across his shoulders. “Yes. He’s alive. And fortunately for you, I cannot claim his soul so easily. Or believe me, I would.” With slow, gracious steps, she approached Corwin, who stood with his fingers pressed into his cheek, mid-scratch. “There are others I can take from you, though. Pluck them as easily as if they were dead flowers in a field. Your sister, for example.”

The mention of Aleysia set off a nervous thrumming in my chest.

She turned to face me, her lips stretching to an evil grin. “Or Branimir.”

I lurched toward her, hands balled to tight fists. “Don’t.”

A gleam of malice flickered in her silver eyes. “How dare you speak to me as if you have any authority over what I do. I am the goddess of death, and I will take whomever I desire.” Again, she drifted toward Zevander, running her hands through his sweat-dampened hair. “This will get worse. More will become infected, and you’ll be begging me to free them.” She traced the silver filigree over his mask then back toward his ear, toying with his hair. “I will happily watch every one of them perish. Unless, of course, you fulfill your promise to me.”

“I never promised you a thing.” My brows lowered, her caresses annoying me. “But even if I had, I don’t have a clue where to begin.”

To my relief, she lowered her hand from Zevander and smiled back at me. “The Corvi were quite knowledgeable on the topic. Perhaps you might learn something from them.”

The book. The one Dolion had given me a while back. Maybe it could offer some insights. Or warnings. If they had set her free before, surely they’d have documented the consequences of doing so.

“I’ll ask again. Does freeing you mean I die?”

Her face pulled to a look of incredulity, and she let out a clipped chuckle. “You don’t trust me. No. Of course not. Our souls are linked eternally. You will be free to love and be loved. In return, you will house my power, keep it from those who might seek to destroy it. Those to whom death is a threat,” she clarified.

“Magekae?”

“Magekae. Vivarya, the goddess of fertility. Even Pestilios.” She knelt beside Fennyx, stroking a hand down his pale, lifeless face. “After all, death is mercy for the suffering.”

“So, freeing you means freeing your power?”

She sighed and lifted her gaze to mine. “It’s not my intent to lie to you, Maevyth. Through you, I will be reborn. I’ll live and see all that you experience, as if it were my own body.”

“But it’ll be mine.”

“Yes. Much like Zevander houses the power of Deimos.” She waved her hand toward the spider creatures. “They’ll become more powerful as Pestilios feeds. Imagine you had the power to end this plague.”

I wanted to laugh at that. A mortal girl with a soft heart single-handedly saving the world from disease and famine. It was as fictional in my head as the stories grandfather used to read to me as a child. “The way to stop this plague is trapping Pestilios. The amulet.”

She chuckled. “Do you imagine it will be so easy to banish a god?” Clicking her tongue, she shook her head. “Foolish girl.”

“It’s happened before, has it not?”

“With my help, yes.”

“There was another? Like me?”

Tipping her head, she studied me a moment, then drifted across the white sand toward me. “Yes. Of course. And there will be another after you.” She lifted a tendril of my hair, letting it slip through her fingers. “Centuries, I have lived in a cold and vacuous void. I long to touch. To feel. To be. I can do that through you, Maevyth, and together, we can spare this world of the destruction that Pestilios longs for.”

I stared at Zevander, chewing on her words, imagining what he’d say to me, could he hear them, too.

He’d tell me to let the world burn so long as he and I remained, and gods, I wished I could be so selfish. That, for once in my life, I could stop worrying about everyone else and focus on myself. But imagining a world without the people I knew and loved felt as empty and unfulfilling as death itself.

“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll find a way to set you free.”

Her lips pulled to a smile, and she pressed a kiss to my lips. “Very well,” she whispered and faded into black smoke. The world gasped into motion–wolves pacing, bodies moving.