chapter FIFTY-SIX
I screamed in anguish, wishing I was dead, too. How could I live without Vittorio? I pulled him into my lap, holding him. He was still warm, his skin still soft to the touch. I rocked back and forth with him in my lap like mother rocks a child who has had a nightmare, only this nightmare was real. Vittorio was dead. A voice in my head reminded me that Kevin, too, was dead, and I was alone. Madness crept through the corners of my mind. Samuel had stolen Elizabeth’s sanity; Clavius had stolen mine.
I don’t know how long I rocked Vittorio in my arms. Something tugged at my power. I ignored it, not caring if any of the others had broken free. Let them kill me. I didn’t even care if Clavius rose from the dead. Any torture they could inflict on me could not be as bad as the pain of losing Vittorio.
My power pushed against my body, trying to get out. I pushed it down, but it fought me. I was too weak to fight it, and let it go. I didn’t care what it did. It pushed gently out of my body toward Vittorio. Was my power mourning, as well? It flared up for a moment, as if trying to tell me something, and pushed toward Vittorio again. I held him close to me, unsure what my power was trying to tell me, too bereft to care.
The slightest breeze tickled my neck where Vittorio’s head rested. I almost didn’t notice it. Again, I felt the breeze. It was warm. The third time, I realized it wasn’t a breeze at all, but Vittorio’s breath. He was alive! That’s what my power was trying to tell me. I tried to pull myself together so I could concentrate. I whispered a prayer, “Goddess, please let him live. Please do not take him from me,” and let my power embrace Vittorio. I held the thought, “Heal him,” in my mind as I let my power surround him, flow into him and through him. At first, nothing happened. I feared it was too late. Then, the breath on my neck grew stronger. I maintained the flow of my power through his body, willing him to live.
Time passed, and I grew weak. I didn’t know how much energy I had left. If it took every last drop of me, I would keep trying until I collapsed. Finally, Vittorio moved. He raised his head from my shoulder and said, “You can stop now,” so softly I almost didn’t hear him. He was weak, oh so weak; I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to heal him. I continued to let my power flow through him. He pulled away from me and said, “Stop, mio amore, please, you will hurt yourself if you do not.” I didn’t want to listen, wanted to heal him, but he was alive, and I was weak, so I called my power back to me. It returned, sluggish. Vittorio and I held each other, both of us drained.
“Mio amore, you have done the impossible. You brought me back from death.”
“What?”
“I was dead. I felt my life force leave my body. I saw the Goddess. How did you do it?”
I tried to explain.
“Your power acted on its own. That is amazing.”
I was too drained to think about the meaning of that. I didn’t understand, and didn’t care. “Can we save this for later? I can barely sit up I’m so tired.”
“Yes, mio amore, we both need rest. But we may not get it quite yet.” He looked to our captives, and I was relieved to see they were still restrained.