Chapter 9

The room emptied out. Just me and Lyra now.

In my arms, she had almost no warmth left. The iron-poison was working its way in through the cuts on her back. Her lips, her fingertips, the rims of her ears were going translucent.

"Sister," she said, very softly, "I'm cold."

I held her tighter. I wrapped the hem of the long red gown around her.

"Lyra, let your sister sing for you. Like when you were little."

"Okay." She closed her eyes. "Sister… after you sing… will your throat hurt again?"

"No. This is the last one."

I started the Soul-Binding Lullaby.

The song has three movements. As the first line left my mouth, the candle flame leaned toward me. By the end of the first movement, my fingertips were going clear. By the end of the second, my wrists were dissolving into points of light, drifting upward — through the dungeon roof, through the cracks in the stone, toward the moon.

Footsteps overhead, in the birthing chamber — quick, pacing, back and forth. Damien's footsteps. Eight years ago, the first time he led me up the staircase of the Wolf Castle, he'd walked at exactly that rhythm.

I had memorized it for the rest of my life. The footsteps stopped. Then a baby crying. Four hundred wolves cheering, the sound bleeding down through the stone, beat after beat — like someone counting me down.

In my arms, Lyra had fallen asleep. Color had come back to her face. Her translucent lips were slowly turning red again. She was going to live. It was worth it, I told myself. But the tears still came, and they ran into the burns under the cold-iron collar, and they evaporated.

In the cheering above, I could hear his voice. He was laughing. He was saying his son's eyes were exactly like Sera's.

Yes — exactly like Sera's. And exactly like mine. Because your son has Elf blood in him, Damien. Because you have Elf blood in you, Damien. Because every breath you've taken from age seven to today, I gave you.

But you don't know. You're holding that child now and you don't know. You're cheering up there with the rest of them — the Thorne line has an heir — and you don't know. The Thorne line has an heir because my grandfather gave his eyes to your great-grandfather, my father gave his heart to your grandfather, and I gave you my blood, one bowl a day.

The poison in your line never stopped. It was my blood holding it down.

And you — you took the blade with your name carved into it, and pressed it into my heart.

The last of my life is not just in my body. Part of it is in his veins — those seven bowls, thirteen years ago. When I die, that part dies too. The poison will surge back the second it's gone. He won't last the night.

I have known this for the whole year. I never told him. He believed that when I died, he would be free. He didn't know — he hasn't truly been alive since he was seven. Every second of his life, he has been alive on what I carry inside him.

Today I die. He dies too.

I was at the third movement now. The light was spreading from my chest. I was leaving. Before I went, I thought of a few people.

— Lyra.

Little sister, I didn't keep you safe. But I left you my last breath. Go back to the forest. Tell our parents — I have no regrets. Tell them: a daughter of the Vaelorien line never disgraced the name.

— Sera.

My best friend. I held the oath you asked me to hold, all the way to the last moment. The blood oath will release itself the instant I dissolve into light. I know you'll find this place. I know you'll hear the truth. I know you'll cry. Don't. This was my choice. The two best things I ever did with this life — one was loving your brother. The other was not hating you.

— Damien Thorne.

I thought a long time about what to say to you. In the end I realized — I have nothing.

It isn't that I hate you. It's that — I'm not going to spend my last breath on you. You don't deserve it.

Three times in this life, I saved you. With my grandfather's eyes. With my father's heart. With my own blood.

In the next life — don't find me. If you do, please pretend you don't know me.

Because I — have used up the strength to love you.