There was no anger in her voice now, only perfect, unbending conviction. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t look away from her relentless gaze.
“Is that not so, sister?”
I wanted to shout, You don’t understand!—but every word she had said was true. People were dying every day, and I hadn’t minded if they kept on dying, so long as the one person I wanted stayed alive. Even though he was the one person who least deserved it.
In the end, all I could do was stare at her and whisper, “Yes.”
“You know he’s a monster,” she said gently. “However much you think you love him, you still know. Maybe he is enslaved, but if he really hated what he was doing, he could have killed himself any time.”
I shook my head, remembering how he had healed from the darkness. “I’m not sure they would let him die—”
“Am I telling the truth?”
“Yes,” I said helplessly.
She laid a hand on my cheek. “I’ve heard the stories about him. I don’t blame you for being beguiled. But if you do not help me, I will never forgive you.” Her lips curved in a sunny, vicious smile. “And I know that Mother will never forgive you either.”
My nails bit into my palms. She had every right to fling my own words back in my face, and she was probably telling the truth, as I had not.
“He trusts me,” I said. “You know how the gods judge traitors.”
“You must betray one of us. I suppose which one you pick depends on whom you love the most.”
I looked at her. She wanted me to break my promise with Ignifex, to betray him after he had given me absolute trust, to kill the only person who had ever loved me and asked nothing in return.
She was my only sister, the living image of my mother, and the person I had hurt the most when of all the people in the world she deserved it least. She wanted me to avenge ten thousand murdered souls and save all Arcadia from the terror of demons.
I remembered the screams echoing from Father’s study. I remembered huddling next to Astraia when she couldn’t sleep for fear the shadows would look at her. I remembered silently swearing, I will end this.
That oath, too, surely must be kept.
“Nyx.” Astraia cradled my face in her hands. “Please.”
I should have known, I thought dully. Why did I think that I would ever get to keep what I loved?
Why should I think that my love was more important than all Arcadia?
I gripped her hands and whispered, “Yes.”
Our fingers wove together. I felt like there was ice jammed into my chest.
“Swear to me,” she said, “by the love you bear me and our mother, by the gods above and the river Styx below, that you will destroy the Gentle Lord, rescue the last prince, and save us all.”
My heart thumped. I tried to speak, but my throat tightened. Memories of Ignifex flooded over me: His lips against mine. His hands as he slid the ring onto my finger. His voice in the darkness as he said, Please.
But he didn’t matter any more than I mattered. We were both wicked people, and we were both the ones who had to be sacrificed.
“I swear.” The words came out in a whisper. Then I swallowed and ground them out. “I swear by my love for you and our mother, by the gods above and the river Styx below, that I will destroy the Gentle Lord, rescue the last prince, and save us all.”
“And?” Astraia promptly gently.
“And . . . and by the creek in back of the house.”
She flung her arms around me. “Thank you.”
I pressed my face into her shoulder. My eyes stung with tears, and I expected that any moment the cold hate for her would wash over me. But all I felt was emptiness, until I realized that I had finally gotten my wish: I had learnt to love my sister without bitterness. All it had cost me was everything.
It occurred to me that Ignifex would find this fate both amusing and appropriate. Then I cried, my whole body shaking with sobs, and Astraia held me and stroked my back until I quieted.
It didn’t take Father and Aunt Telomache long to find us, but we bolted the door and refused to come out. Father pounded on the door and commanded Astraia—he must have known I was a lost cause—to open it.
“We’re plotting the death of the Gentle Lord!” Astraia called back. “Go away!”
I laughed weakly. “You grew a sharp tongue rather quickly.”
“Twins are always alike, don’t you know?” Her voice sounded almost affectionate, and I laughed again; then her next words caught me like a blow across the face. “Why did you go to the graveyard?”
I remembered my cheek leaned against Ignifex’s shoulder, his arm around my waist, and his lips as he kissed me, fiercely tender. It felt like worms crawling over my skin to remember that Astraia had watched it all, hating both of us.