Fitz’s limbs, loose and limp, hang from his hips and shoulders, but his chest is gone. It’s gone. In its place is a shining red point of rock protruding up from his body like a spear.

I watch myself raise my sword again as if from a distance. The imp, still hovering, smiles with its double row of dagger teeth and dives again with claws extended.

My feet slide left. It misses me.

I swing the edge of my sword into its back, cutting it into two halves, a top and bottom. It dies against the wall with my blade sunk into the stone behind it.

I hold the hilt, my lungs heaving against my chest and my eyes burning with tears. I want to let go, but I can’t. I can’t yet. My knees hit the ground.

Evan slowly rises from his knees to his feet, his face stricken. “He’s—he’s gone.” The whites of his eyes shine as he casts a wild gaze at the bloody scene around us.

My brain clicks back into operation. I take a deep breath and unlock my fingers to pull my blade from the wall. The top half of the imp falls with a heavy splat that turns my stomach.

We both watch as his Scion’s sword shimmers, then fades to dust without its caster. A heartbeat later, and Evan’s sword, still on the ground, goes too.

Evan approaches, backlit against my still-fallen flashlight, and offers a hand. I take it automatically, and he pulls me to standing.

“He’s gone,” he repeats, stunned. His armor disappears before our eyes.

“I know,” I whisper, even though I don’t know. I don’t know what it would feel like to watch your Scion die right in front of you. Would his Oath punish him? Did he feel Fitz’s pain as well as his fear?

As I unstrap my scabbard and resheathe my sword, a cold certainty slides into my mind. Davis opened a Gate. He may not have killed my mother, but he did murder Fitz.

No more deaths.

52

EVAN HANDS ME my flashlight with a shaking hand. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

I meet his eyes, unwavering in his familiar face. I take the lead this time, flashlight in hand, although my hand trembles as I hold it.

We walk for another few minutes. It takes that long for my breathing to begin to slow, but nothing about the situation feels calm. My eyes and flashlight fly to every distant drip of water, every shadow of stone.

“Those were imps, right? Isels?” I ask, hoping to fill the quiet. Hoping that talking will keep my heart from racing right out of my chest.

“Yes,” Evan replies, his voice cracking.

“Why weren’t they invisible?”

“We’re underground. Aether is richest close to the earth. Down here every Shadowborn is more powerful than it is on the surface. Harder to kill.”