Then the wave of energy and magic hit, and the doors, walls, and ceiling all around us disintegrated. I very much suspected the wave would have done the same to us had we been in flesh form.
The wave rolled into the kitchen–dining area, its progress trackable through the pulverization of everything it touched. Not just walls and ceilings, but the half-built kitchen as well as the old remnant. But the force behind the wave obviously began to fade as it neared the far wall, because while some of the plaster fell, most remained intact.
I turned, peering through the dusty gloom, wondering if that explosion was all there was to the trap. Wondering if it had been aimed at me, specifically, or just anyone who entered this room. That brief caress of darkness before the explosion certainly seemed to suggest the former rather than the latter, but if that was the case, why not create an explosion that would do damage to an Aedh? Whoever had set this trap – be it the dark sorcerer or Lauren – had to know what I was.
But then, why would they want me dead? The final key still had to be found, and I was the only one who could do that.
Maybe this trap had been set more out of spite and emotion than levelheaded thinking, and that suggested Lauren more than the dark sorcerer. If the argument I’d interrupted between Lucian and her had been any indication, Lauren hadn’t been happy about my presence in his life. And she certainly had to suspect my part in his death.
Maybe destroying any possible evidence had been the main intent of the blast. Damage to me, if I hadn’t been quick enough, might have just been a bonus.
Which made me wonder if the reaper who’d replaced Azriel would have stepped in to save me had my life truly been in danger.
Or wouldn’t it have mattered to him? Or to any of them?
I mean, I was now destined to become Mijai the next time I died, and Mijai could become flesh. Maybe it would be better for them if I did die.
But with Azriel gone, there was no way to get any answers to questions like that…
Except, he doesn’t have to remain gone…
The thought rose like a ghost, seductive and enticing. I pushed it away. If I was going to invite him back into my life, then I’d do it the fair way – when I was safe rather than in trouble.
I studied the mess now that the white dust had started to settle. What it revealed was the broken remnants of the bed and bathroom. Wiring hung like limp snakes from the remains of the ceiling, and the lines of silver ducts that crossed the room had been torn open in several places.
I couldn’t see anything that suggested there was another trap waiting, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t. There was only one way I could ever be sure, however.
I carefully imagined Jak and me as two separate beings, and reached for the Aedh. The magic stitched us back together, until flesh was fully formed and we became ourselves once again.
There was nothing at all elegant about my reappearance this time. I landed with a splat on the dust-covered concrete, shivering and coughing and generally feeling like shit. Back to the old days, I thought bleakly. But I twisted around, ignoring the red-hot pokers that jabbed into my brain as I looked for Jak.
He was lying within arm’s reach, his clothes shredded but his flesh whole. And he was breathing.
Relief spun through me, but I didn’t entirely relax. I reached out and poked him with a stiffened finger. “Jak? You okay?”
“No, I’m fucking not.” His voice was raw and somewhat shaky. “You just tore my whole body down to atoms and then re-formed it. To say I feel like shit is something of an understatement.”
“Welcome to my usual state of being,” I muttered, my gaze sweeping the room again. Given the mess and destruction, it was likely that if there had been clues here, they would have been destroyed. But I still had to look.
At least I would when I no longer felt like throwing up.
“Why the hell would you put yourself through something like that?” Jak raised a hand and scrubbed his forehead rather gingerly. “I mean, it hurts.”
“Better that than being dead.” I carefully pushed up into a sitting position, but no amount of care could stop my stomach from leaping into my throat. I swallowed heavily and added, “And that was our only other option. Just look at the walls.”
He cracked open an eye, and swore fluently. “To repeat an earlier question, why the hell would someone do that? It could have been anyone walking through that door.”
“Which is why the magic checked us out first.”
He glanced at me. “It did?”
“Yeah.” My stomach was beginning to settle again, although the madmen in my head didn’t seem too inclined to follow suit. I nevertheless stood upright, and held out a hand. “Need some help getting up?”>The simple fact was, no one but me could find the keys. No me, no key, no threat.
I had every right to be angry. And I was. Very much so. But Ilianna was right. I owed him the chance to explain his reasons. He had tried – in his own stoic, say-as-little-as-possible way – but I’d been too locked in misery to listen. I’d wallowed in that particular pool long enough, though, and I was ready to listen now. Besides, I’d faced up to Jak’s betrayal, and had given him a second chance, even if it extended only as far as friendship. Did Azriel deserve anything less?
“What sort of trouble?” Jak asked.
“The kind that comes from a seriously annoyed dark sorceress.”