Page 231 of Starside

He sighs. “You don’t, do you? Not a good one, anyway.” He starts to walk away. I feel his steps receding, leaving me here.

Fury lances through me, my veins igniting. I couldn’t feel my body before, but now I feel every limb, every bone, every muscle. They’re all tensed in rage. I shake with it as I break through the crushing weight of the sand.

I can’t even see the ghost of him—I can’t see anything—but these emotions will not stay buried. My voice is unrecognizable, a primal growl. I don’t need to just tell him. I will tell the entire galaxy if I need to. I will fill universes with my fury. I will shake the stars loose with my rage.

“I’m doing this because she killed her! She was my sister, she was innocent, she was everything, and that goddess fucking killed her because she fucking could! And now … I’m going to kill all of them. I’m going to burn those merciless gods to ashes, even if I burn with them. Even if I am skinned and broken and bleeding and all my bones are shattered, I will drag myself to those gods, and I will end them, and if it kills me, then I will die with a smile on my face, because it will have been worth it. They will be scourged from this world—and then, only then, finally then, will I know peace.” My voice is a screaming rasp. “These ghosts … they’re right. I am a blight. I am not honorable. What I want is revenge. That’s all I want. That is the only reason why I’m doing this.”

Blinking, panting, I finally see the shape of Stellan, in the sand. The shape of all of them, every single person I have loved and lost. All staring at me, on my knees, shaking with rage.

I remember what Vander said about the monster that makes you an enemy of yourself. I wonder if I’m looking right at it.

My lip curls. “Go ahead. Do your worst,” I say to the invisible creature making these shapes, digging a blade into my ever-bleeding wound.

I unsheathe my sword and stab it into the sand below, using it to steady me. Slowly, on shaking legs, I rise. They continue to tremble as I take a step forward. The sand shifts beneath me, but I do not fall. I dig my feet into the ground and stand firm.

A wicked, twisted laugh leaves my lips. “I have lost my entire family. I have lost everyone I have ever loved. This world is not large enough to hold my fury. It wants to knock me down?” I scoff. “I would like to see it try.” My hands tighten around my hilt, and my blade’s energy runs through me, invigorating me. “My worst nightmare has already happened, and I’m still standing. I’m not afraid of anything,” I bellow.

And the sand drops away to nothing. The dust vanishes with the wind. Everything settles.

Raker.

I race through the dunes, squinting through the grit—and that’s when I see him.

The Warrior Without Marks on His Armor. The Battle-Ender. The Devil’s Blade. So many names. And he’s earned every single one.

His hood is partially up. He’s battling an invisible source with the frenzied fury of a duel. His metal sings, it glimmers, it moves in arcs like water, he was made for this, he is the best at this. His face is almost expressionless, but I know him. By now … I know him. I see the coiled rage in the set of his shoulders. I watch as it bleeds into his movements. They become more hurried. More reckless.

The illusions … they’re getting to him. I wonder what he’s seeing.

I’m not afraid of anything, he said. I think he believed it too.

But it seems even devils have demons.

When I get closer, his eyes close, like he can’t bear to even look at what’s appeared. What’s so bad that he can’t face it?

He winces. Winces.

It’s instinct to reach for him.

I take his arm, trying to pull him out of this dream, but instead of leaving with me, he lashes out, nearly slicing me through my middle. I barely jump away in time.

My chest is heaving. So close. He was so close to killing me.

I remember the circle of dead knights. I remember their heads, cracking against the stone floor, over and over and over.

A lick of fear slides down my spine. He can kill me so easily; I’ve known it this entire time. But I’ve never been afraid he might actually do it until now.

He’s not himself. He thinks I’m someone else—

“Aris,” he growls. I blink. He knows it’s me. And he still swung his blade. “Aris, leave me alone.” It’s an order.

I should. It’s the smart thing to do.

But aren’t those the same words I said to Stellan? I begged him to leave me to die, but he never did. Even his illusion didn’t leave until I was standing. Until I was free.

I will be a hand in the darkness. I will pull him out of this.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say, yelling so he hears me over the roaring sand.