“Don’t mistake me, Lydian,” I said, an edge in my voice. “Nothing you did is forgiven, forgotten, excused, whatever adjective you want to think up. You’re not some hero who did a bad thing for a good reason. I’ve met my share of monsters and monster-like heroes to know the difference, and you are, always will be, a monster.” The icy tone in my voice made the air around us glimmer with ice crystals, and as I continued, they began to crack and freeze, almost like the water in the air was turning into a thin sheet of ice. “Nothing you did was for the greater good. Nothing you wrought was for the good of the realm, of the people, of anything. The hurt you’ve caused, the pain, the vile actions I won’t even name? None of that changes.”

I took a step forward, and from beneath my feet, the once-grassy field cracked with ice. Like his nephew, Lydian was taller than me by at least two heads. But somehow in this space, I met his eyes plain as day, face-to-face, heights equal. It was only when the wind tickled my boots did I see the ice had lifted me into the air, holding me on the frozen crystals my power formed. “You’re useful now. Your usefulness doesn’t absolve your crimes. That’s all you are. A tool. And once you’ve finished out your usefulness…” I shrugged as my feet returned to the ground. “Well, you know what happens to broken tools.”

Something was calling me from the back of my mind, a familiar voice I could barely make out. Suddenly, there was a sharp tug around my navel, like a band about to snap.

“I suspect this is all we have time to speak about,” Lydian said. “I’m afraid even I won’t be coherent for much longer. Keeping composure for long … is hard. But it seems we have some sort of a deal.”

“It seems we do,” I replied, letting out a bared-tooth smile that would make Soren proud.

“Tell my nephew I said ‘hi.’”

Snap. The world around me retracted until I was pulled backward out of the field and into the air, thrown through the cosmos, into the ground, through the rivers and waters, until I burst forth back into my body, drenched and gasping.

Diaval was breathing heavily, her fingers still coated in blue static and her dark eyes glowing unnaturally bright. But other than that, the courtyard was completely silent. I waited semi-patiently as she caught her breath and her eyes returned to their normal dark blue. She gave me an apologetic look. “I kept you in there for maybe around twenty minutes. I’m sorry. I hope that was enough.”

“It was enough, Diaval,” I said, bending down to take her hand and help her stand. She stumbled a little, but managed to keep her feet. “Thank you.”