Two days passed and Arwyn refused to leave the throne room. She didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep. She refused to speak to anyone. She stared at the spot Zeph had been standing when he last spoke to her and did nothing else.

Favián stayed close by, never leaving her alone, knowing Zeph would not only expect Favián to watch over Arwyn, he would want him to.

Favián’s mouth twitched. He thought about the time they’d first met, how unlikeable Zeph had been. They had come so far, he and Zeph. Somewhere along the way, he had grown to care for the prickly Fae, and now he was…

Favián shut his eyes and clenched his fists. Damn you, Zeph.

“How is she?” Lochlan asked, taking a seat next to Favián in an unlit corner of the room.

Favián shook out his hands and drew his knees up to rest his arms. “I’m worried about her.”

Lochlan nodded in understanding. “Elin is having a difficult time as well. I don’t know what to do for her.”

“How are you holding up?” Favián asked.

Lochlan’s head fell against the wall. He stared up—at nothing. “I hate him,” he said quietly. “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” A tear slipped down his cheek, a quiet descent. “For leaving. And I keep hoping that my heart would listen to what my head is telling it.” His voice wobbled. “But the damned thing is broken.”

Favián laid a hand on Lochlan’s shoulder. “I feel the same.”

“And then there’s the angel story,” Lochlan said. “Favián, I think the angel visited me too once. I didn’t remember it either until Elin mentioned it. But it feels so familiar.”

“Did the angel give you a stone as well?”

“No, I’m sure she didn’t. It feels more…” Lochlan trailed off, his eyes darting left and right. “Like she wanted me to know she cared.”

“Favián?” Arwyn said, standing before them, swaying on her feet.

He sprang up, ready to catch her if she fell. She was weak, and he was past concerned. “Do you need something?” he asked.

“I want to go home. Take me to Searly.”

“All right.” Favián nodded. “We’ll go home.”

Lochlan stood too. “I’ll find Elin and then we’ll all go.”

Elin stood at the highest point in all of Faery, on the barren cliffs overlooking Death Sea, looking out from a safe distance, listening to the swell and sway of the waves below. The flint-gray sky was tinged in yellow around the edges, like pages in an ancient book that foretold a prophecy, hinting at doom.

Lochlan approached her slowly. “I’ve been searching all over for you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just…I needed to come here.”

“Why?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder and then stared back to the cliffs. The colors of the sky were changing, hidden fires burning low under the crumbling gray. “For eight days Zeph was on this mountain, alone, dying.” Her chin quivered. “Have you ever been that alone? I haven’t. Even after I lost my parents. I had you and Searly.”

“What did Zeph tell you?”

“That when he thought he’d lost me, he wanted to die.” She spoke to him while looking out into the sea. But she wasn’t present. She wasn’t with him. She was living somewhere else. “He came here and poisoned himself. You know the rest.”

She took a step toward the edge of the cliff, then another. The wind picked up strength, blowing her hair around her face, whipping her skirts around her ankles. She closed her eyes and mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Elin,” Lochlan said, reaching for her hand. “What are you sorry for?”

“I should have tried harder. We could have found another way.”

“He chose—”

“He didn’t think he had a choice!” Thunder rumbled in the distance, lightning struck close by, and clouds rolled and tumbled overhead. The palpitating pulse of the ocean began to thrash against the shore. “He didn’t think he was worthy to live. He accepted his fate in this—that dying this way was what he deserved.” Her voice was caught in the wind and carted off, like that of her brother’s soul. “He was mine,” she whimpered. “My twin. My other half. He was p-part of me. I feel like I can’t br-breathe without him. And I want him back!” she bellowed. “I want my brother back!”

Lochlan wrapped his body around hers, holding her tightly so she could break, and he would be there to keep her pieces together. “I know. I know.”

“It’s not fair,” she cried. “It’s not fair. He had no choices. He was just a child. They took him away from us. Made him do things he would have never done if they’d left him alone. They did this. They’re the monsters. He didn’t deserve to d-die. Not like this. N-Not like this.”

“He had a choice,” Lochlan said softly in her ear. “He sacrificed his life for you. For all of us. Don’t you see? In the end, he chose love. He chose love, Elin. Don’t take that away from him. Don’t.”

A sob of defeat broke from Elin’s lips, the high-pitched whine of her pain reverberating off the mountain. Her heart was a steady, hard rhythm underneath his palm. Fat drops of rain fell around them as steady and hard as the rhythm of her heart.

Lochlan held her firmly in his arms.

“I needed more time with him.” Her eyes slid closed. “I needed more time.”

He rested his cheek on her head. He, too, had prayed for more time. “Let’s go back to Mirova. Lick our wounds. Let Searly help put us back together.”

“And then what?” Elin asked absently.

But Lochlan did not have an answer. And then what, indeed.

Searly knocked on Arwyn’s door. There was no answer.

“Arwyn, may I enter?” he asked softly. He put his ear to the door, hoping he would hear sounds of her moving about. “I brought food.”

“Leave it by the door, if you please,” she said weakly. “I’m not hungry.”

“No, no. I’m afraid I can’t do that. I must insist you eat something this time.”

“I said I’m not hungry, Searly. Please.”

“You need to eat.” Searly opened the door. “We are not negotiating.” He set the tray of food beside the bed. She rolled over and refused to look at him. Searly sighed. “Arwyn, just a few bites.”

“He left me,” she whispered. “He said he wouldn’t run. He said he wouldn’t leave. But he did. He left me.”

“He didn’t want to,” Searly said, sitting next to her. “They told me everything that happened.” Searly reached out his hand and stroked her long lavender hair. “He loved you. Very much. He wasn’t leaving you. He was saving you.”

“Excuse me,” a strong male voice said.

Arwyn and Searly both turned to see who their visitor was.

“I was walking past. Your door was open, and I couldn’t help overhearing.” Xavier took a tentative step forward. “May I say something?”

Arwyn sat up, dried her eyes as best as she could. “Speak freely, Xavier.”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss.” Xavier let his eyes fall to the floor. “I wasn’t kind to Zeph when he was here. I think everyone knows that.”

“Xavier—”

“Please, allow me to finish,” he said to Arwyn, his eyes lifting to hers. He had the look of a man in a spiritual crisis, pinched and pained.

Searly squeezed Arwyn’s hand and nodded for Xavier to continue. Whatever he needed to say, Arwyn should hear it.

“I learned it’s much easier to live a cloistered life, praying, getting lost in the repetitiveness of monastic living. I thought myself a holy man, doing God’s work. And then…” Xavier walked to the window, stared out. “Everything changed. I became a man filled with hate. It consumed me. I can see now how hate can blind a person. Because I did not see the changes. Not in myself. And not in Zeph.” He turned to face them both. “Three times Zeph saved you, Arwyn, by my count. Possibly other times we aren’t aware of. And the first time, Zeph was under the influence of evil as I understand it.” Xavier’s expression was pensive. “I won’t pretend to understand the magic he was under, but I think about that.” He shook his head. “And somehow, he rose above it to save you.” A tear slipped down Arwyn’s cheek. “Zeph battled demons I couldn’t possibly imagine, though I didn’t know. None of us knew. But now that we do…” Xavier’s eyes began to glisten. “Now that we do, I am saddened that he is gone. I wanted you to know that I think you saved him, too.” He nodded to himself. “I think you saved each other.” Xavier’s eyes found hers again. “Saint Paul says… And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” He smiled at her, a genuine smile. “Love is powerful, Arwyn. Never doubt the power love has. I would do well to remember that. Thank you for teaching me that lesson.”

Arwyn stood and reached for Xavier’s hands. “Thank you. I appreciate your words.”

“I’m sorry that’s all I can offer you.”

“You offered kindness. That is a lot.”

“If there is anything else I can do, please ask.”

“Thank you, Xavier. I will.”

After Xavier left, Arwyn closed the door, pressed her head against it, and let her tears fall once more.

“He wasn’t wrong, luv,” Searly said.

Arwyn nodded. “I know.”

Searly allowed silence to coil around them like a sleeping cat. She didn’t move from the door and he didn’t move from the place beside her bed. He had had his own moment of breaking down shortly after their arrival. Although Searly was good about keeping his wits about him, he was still only a man. His heart had cracked right down the middle when he’d learned Zeph’s fate. He had wanted to blame Arwyn for his emotional state because she had projected her emotions on to him when Zeph was brought back into their lives. But he knew that wasn’t fair, nor was it true. Searly cared for Zeph and losing him had been a fist to his gut.

He glanced around the room. The small space felt so much bigger than it was. Zeph’s presence had been so large that the monastery would now seem extraordinarily empty without him there.

“You know you can stay here for as long as you need—for as long as you want,” Searly said, dragging his words, tasting the tang of sadness on his tongue.

“I know,” she said. “And Favi? What are his plans?”

“His plans are to be wherever you are.”

Arwyn traced her finger over the scarred woodgrain on the door. “I am nowhere,” Arwyn whispered. “I exist. But I do not live. I am nowhere.”