A chill snaked through me. “No.” I angled my body toward him. “No, Joseph. I will not let you consider that. It is not an option.”
His eyebrows lifted, and the resignation in his eyes was inescapable. “I will do anything for Daniel and Jie, remember? I will kill for them . . . and I will die for them. And so, should our plans fail, it will be your job to make Daniel and Jie go.”
“Go?”
“They will never leave me behind.” His eyes narrowed. “Marcus comes here for me, Eleanor, and I will give him what he wants if it will save the rest of you.”
“So you’re going to hand yourself to him?”
“No. I go into this battle to win. But I cannot . . .” He grimaced and rubbed at his bandages. “The truth is, I cannot face Marcus if I worry about the rest of you. This is a fight between him and me that goes back many years—and it is a fight I pulled you into. Marcus should never have been your problem. Or Daniel’s or Jie’s. Yet look at what he has done to all of you. Look at what he did to your family.”
“Stop talking like this. As much as I may want to blame you—as easy as it would be for my conscience, I cannot lay this at your feet, Joseph. Not for a single moment do I see Marcus as your fault. My brother caused just as much damage as he. We are all here today because of the choices we made, good and bad. Nothing we say or think or feel can change that. So when Marcus arrives, we must finally finish what we set out to do.”
The muscles in Joseph’s jaw worked, as if he was trying to swallow back what he was about to say. But then it rushed out. “Except, I am not sure I can finish it, Eleanor.”
I grabbed at his arm. “Of course you can. You are the strongest one here.”
“Yet Marcus is much stronger than I. My electricity cannot hold up against his immense power.”
My fingers tightened on Joseph’s sleeve. “But you have us behind you.”
“And that is what frightens me most—can you not see?” He exhaled, a pitiful, shaking sound. “I know you think me rigid, Eleanor. I know my avoidance of black magic confounds and frustrates you. But every man has his limit—a line he will not cross. And every man must choose what that limit is.”
“And your line is self-power,” I whispered, releasing him. “I understand that, but it does not mean we will lose against Marcus.”
“But it is very likely, especially with Oliver gone. And that is why I am begging you to make sure Daniel and Jie leave if the battle should fall to me. Promise me this, Eleanor.” He leveled me with a sad gaze. Yet the look on his face was the Joseph I had come to know. The unwavering poise that made him a leader. “Promise me that you will see them to safety.”
I gazed into his glittering eyes, and ever so slowly I nodded. “I promise, Joseph. But only because you have a line—and that is what makes you worth following. It’s what has earned you the unflinching love of Daniel and Jie. And it is what makes us believe in you. To the end. If I had such a limit, then . . .” I shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps I would not be so lost without my demon. Or so scared—” My voice cracked. “Or so scared of what the future brings.”
Joseph’s lips twisted into a smile. “But you do have a limit, Eleanor. Every man has one. Let us simply hope you are never faced with crossing it.”
Joseph and I sat in silence until dawn, with no company but the stars and coarse wind. By the time the sun began to rise, its misty pink light bathing our left cheeks, I felt better. Though I kept reaching for things with my right hand: an itch, an errant curl. At least the stab in my gut had lessened. The choking in my lungs had tapered off.
Oliver was gone; I had let him go; I would move onward as I always did. Joseph was right: the loss would fade with enough time.
“Has the falcon moved?” Joseph asked, his voice a mere breath.
I closed my eyes, tested the leash. . . . “Not yet.”
And we descended back into silence until the sun was fully risen and burning with heat. Until Daniel appeared with breakfast—and saw my missing hand. Until Jie followed behind him and asked about Oliver.
Until I could not handle the chatter or accusatory gazes a moment longer.
Then I claimed the need for sleep and stumbled down the north side of the pyramid.
But Daniel hurried after. “Empress,” he called once my feet had dug into the warming sand.
I slowed, biting back a sigh. Ahead, the balloon shifted against its tethers, a graveyard of dogs now resting beneath its shade.
Daniel stopped beside me. The sun lit his face, his skin as golden as the pyramid now. His hair the same color as the tawny sand. His fresh white shirt billowed around his frame, and sunburn sprayed lightly over his nose and brow.
My frustration instantly dried up. And in an unexpected tide, grief buckled through me. Oliver was gone, we would soon face Marcus, and it all felt much, much too real.
So I turned and fell into Daniel’s arms, and I wept.
For my brother. My mother. My old life. For Jie. Allison. Oliver.