Jeid stepped closer. He placed a hand on her shoulder, prepared to pull her back, to shift, to attack, to die. And Laira knew that he would die this day. They were fifty Vir Requis, and five hundred Widejaws stood here, each capable of becoming a sphinx.

A tear streamed down Laira's cheek.

If I cling to my stars, I'll lose my husband. Like I lost my mother, my brother, maybe my sister. She looked at Jeid through a veil of tears.

She loved her magic. But she loved Jeid more.

"I love you," she whispered . . . and took a bite.

Jeid stared, eyes wide. His hands dropped to his sides and he took a step back. But within an instant, the King of Requiem steeled himself and turned back toward Slyn, his clenched fists his only sign of distress.

Laira stared ahead, chewing, maintaining eye contact with Slyn. He stared at her greedily. Saliva dripped down his chin. Laira swallowed her bite and pushed the meat back toward him.

He stared at her, eyes narrowed, perhaps waiting for her to collapse.

She stared back. She felt nothing. She felt hollow. She felt dead.

Slowly, Slyn's face split into a grin. He bit deeply into the meat.

Across the shattered halls of Requiem, five hundred Widejaws roared with approval and began to feast. Teeth sank into the meat. Bones crunched. Gravy dripped down chins.

Laira lowered her head.

Maev stepped closer and grabbed Laira. She leaned down, scrutinizing her. "Laira," she whispered. "Laira, are you . . .?"

As the Widejaws feasted, Dorvin and Jeid stepped close too, staring at her, talking to her, but she couldn't see them, couldn't hear them. The world blurred. All was starlight, silvery and cold and beautiful, flowing around her. All sounds faded into a hum, a song of dragons.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. She wept. "I can see the stars."

She realized that she was lying down, that Jeid was holding her, calling to her. She realized that the Widejaws had fallen around her, that they were writhing, kicking, screaming, that smoke rose from them. The strands of starlight thickened around her, flowing upward, taking the forms of many dragons of silver and white, and Laira smiled.

"Requiem," she whispered. "May our wings forever find your sky."

Her head tilted back, and she looked up and tried to find that sky, but she could see nothing but smoke and silvery strands, and she knew that the sky was lost to her forever.

JEID

 
JEID

All across the hall of Requiem, Widejaws thrashed and screamed as smoke rose from them. The miasma flowed on the wind, thick with countless buzzing demons the size of maggots. The foul magic of the Abyss was leaving the Widejaws, but Jeid barely spared them a glance.

"Laira!" he cried, holding her small frame. "Laira, can you hear me?"