‘No!’ he bellowed, crushing the blade until blood from his fingers. His whole body shook with grief. ‘I want to be in paradise. I want to be with you!’
Cassandra at last breached the gap between their worlds. Reaching out, she touched his face with her ethereal hand. In the darkness, all he saw was her, and all he heard was her voice, heart-broken by his choice.
We have forever, she told him. Live your life.
It took all her strength to breach the worlds, and then she was gone, floating back across the void, the feeling of her touch lingering on Lukien’s cheek. He didn’t want to open up his eye again, but try as he might he could not summon her again. Slowly his one eye opened, revealing Gilwyn’s shocked face.
‘Lukien?’ Gilwyn was kneeling in front of him. ‘Your hands. .’
Lukien stared at the sword. His fingers burned with pain from the cuts of the blade. Instantly, Malator went to work, healing him.
‘She doesn’t want me,’ he gasped. ‘Not yet.’
‘Cassandra?’ Gilwyn hurried a handkerchief out of his pocket, dabbing gently at Lukien’s bloodied hands. ‘You saw her?’
Lukien raised his eyes and saw the Eye of God dangling at Gilwyn’s neck, and suddenly the enormity of things struck him.
‘She wants me to live my life,’ he said. ‘But if I have this sword. .’
Gilwyn stopped him. ‘No, it’s not like that,’ he said quickly. He could barely keep the happiness from his face. ‘No one lives forever, Lukien. Not Minikin, not me — not even you with the sword. Listen to what Cassandra’s telling you, Lukien.’
‘What?’ Lukien looked hopefully at his young friend.
‘You’ll see her again, Lukien. You’ll have eternity together. Someday.’
‘But the sword. .’
‘The sword won’t keep you from her, Lukien. She’s always with you, remember?’
Overwhelmed, Lukien remained on his knees, holding the Sword of Angels and letting Malator heal his lacerated fingers. Magically, the blood ebbed. The wounds began to close.
‘Is this how it will be, Malator?’ he asked with dread. ‘Will I live forever here or not?’
Malator, like Gilwyn, hid his pleasure poorly. Forever does not have the same meaning in this world, Lukien.
Lukien scoffed at the Akari’s vagueness. ‘You’re being slippery, Malator. Answer my question.’
‘No, Lukien,’ Gilwyn interrupted. ‘It doesn’t matter what he answers. It’s still your choice.’ He handed off the soiled handkerchief to Lukien. ‘It’s your life and it always will be. If you want to end it, give me the sword. I’ll bring it back to Grimhold, just as we planned. You can go to Cassandra, if that’s what you want.’
Lukien looked at Gilwyn in surprise. Unlike Malator, Gilwyn was not playing games. The perfect day had been sullied by blood and terrible choices, and Lukien did not know what to do or even how to get up off his knees.
‘What will I do if I choose life?’ he asked.
‘What, don’t you think we need you?’ Gilwyn smiled. ‘There’s still so much to do in Jador. And what about Liiria? You could go back there if you want. You can help Lothon and the others rebuild. And even if you don’t, there will always be a place for you here, Lukien. Remember — you are Shalafein.’
His words brought something deep within Lukien back to life. Slowly, he managed to rise to his feet. Glancing around, he heard the stream again and the rushing of its water. Once again he felt the warm light of the sun on his face. He had chosen a special place to die. In a way, it was a kind of paradise.
‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘I am Shalafein.’
The Protector.