“You are fighting,” he said. “And you always will. For us. For our memory. Fight for that, if nothing else. Fight for a new future.”
He removed his finger and leaned in, kissed Tenn with more emotion and passion than Tenn had ever felt before. It made his heart sing and break, all in one gloriously painful moment.
“I love you,” Jarrett said. “And I always will.”
The vision faded.
Tenn sobbed, leaning against Jarrett’s limp body. He wanted to slap him awake, wanted to see those blue eyes one last time, but he knew Jarrett had done all he could, had given Tenn more than he could have hoped. He’d had his goodbye. And now, Jarrett needed Tenn to say goodbye, as well.
Water was still alive in Tenn’s gut. He reached out with hands and magic, touched the pulse of Jarrett’s chest. It was so faint, so weak. It was barely there at all.
He could kill him. He could twist his power and stop the blood in Jarrett’s veins. He could open to Earth and push Jarrett over the edge, pray that he would turn him into something resembling the man he wanted so badly to love.
Either way, he would lose the man he had fought for. The future he wanted to fight for. A life that went beyond revenge. A life worth living.
He closed his eyes.
He couldn’t save Jarrett.
He couldn’t save his family.
His family.
His family.
Water surged in his gut.
Mom? Dad?
He doesn’t want to walk down the hall. He doesn’t want to go back outside. He’d seen the shed door swinging in the wind, saw the way the grass had been trampled. But that isn’t what makes him drag his feet toward the shed. It’s a feeling in the pit of his stomach, a resonance with Water that draws him forward. He couldn’t have fought it if he tried.
But he’s tired of trying. He’d already tried so hard. Fought so much. Across state lines and through hordes of the undead, past classmates fighting and dying and bleeding around him. And through all of it—all of it—Water had fought back. His only Sphere had pulled him forward, pressed him like a tidal wave through hell and high water. Just as it presses him now. Down the steps.
Out the back door.
Across the backyard.
His knees buckle the moment he opens the door.
They lay there. Pale. So pale. So hurt. Water hurts for them, feels the pull in their empty veins, feels the echoes of their life in the pools of crimson surrounding them. Tenn closes his eyes.
He hadn’t been fast enough.
Water hadn’t been strong enough.
He hadn’t been strong enough.
Tears well in his eyes and power wells in his gut. Water blossoms. Water rages. Behind him, another scream roars. The monsters have found him. The monsters will always find him.
He needs to bury his parents. He needs to give them a proper, final rest. But he can’t—there’s no time. Just like he couldn’t have saved them. Water bellows. This is unfair. So unfair. He’s traveled so far, fought through so much. And it wasn’t enough.
He turns. Lets the shed door close behind him, hiding them away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he stands. As he stands and turns to face the coming monsters.
They surround him. He can barely see the freshly decaying flesh, the putrid shades of red and pink and purple. Not through the tears that shatter his vision in starlight. Not through the roar of Water in his gut, in his heart, in his head. He spent so many days fighting. Fighting the monsters. Fighting the other mages. Fighting the power within him.
He’s done fighting.
Not done fighting the monsters.
He’s done fighting the power.
He screams, and the Sphere of Water screams through him, pulses out into the world like a tidal wave. It catches the blood in the veins of the monsters, both living and undead. Tosses them to the ground. Pulls the blood from their veins.
He doesn’t stop screaming.
Water doesn’t stop screaming.
He has all the pain in the world.
He has all the power.
Tenn gasped. Water still flooded his mind, but it relinquished his thoughts.
He stared at Jarrett. So close. So close to death. And so close to being forever far away.
“I wasn’t there for them,” Tenn whispered. “But I’m sure as hell going to be there for you.”
How was he supposed to save the world if he couldn’t even save another human? How was he supposed to change the language of runes if he couldn’t even face the words he’d been given? He’d been given power. It was time he damn well used it.
Tenn grabbed the stone Leanna had left behind. It was wrong. He knew it in his bones, knew it in the way it seemed to sink into his flesh like oil, in the whispers of death and destruction the runes wrought in his mind, but he also knew it held power. So much power.
He traced the runes along the stone with a finger, let the grooves twist words and images through his mind.
The endless void; the teetering expanse; a black hole devouring the horizon; the pull of power.
It was made to drain its victims, yes. But he realized, as he read the runes over and over again, that it was more than that. It was a vessel.
And it was storing Jarrett’s power.
He traced the runes again. Felt the surge of energy deep within the stone. Tenn couldn’t channel enough Earth to mend Jarrett—maybe, if it had been Water, he would have stood a chance. But he’d only been attuned to Earth for a year or so. It wasn’t nearly strong enough. But if he could rewrite these runes. If he could reverse the power...
He opened to Earth.
He opened to Water.
Water had always guided him. Water had always pulled him forward, connected him to something bigger than himself. Water, he realized, was how the gods spoke to him. Spoke through him. And he would give them that chance.
“Help me,” he whispered and prayed. Please help me save him.
He poured a thin stream of energy into the stone. But not to activate it. To change it. He manipulated the runes. Changed the paths of the currents of power. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing soft, his thoughts no longer his.
Save him, he thought on repeat. His mantra. His lifeline.
The stone hummed. Grew hot with power as the runes slowly changed. As the runes became a different language. A lighter language. One not cursed by the Dark Lady’s tongue.
He reached out, pressed the stone to Jarrett’s belly. Pressed more power into the stone. Into the runes as he changed them: release; the rising sun; a plant bursting to blossom.
The stone glowed green, runes flared emerald.
And with a rush of energy that sounded like thunder, that shook the room like a windfall, the stone connected to Jarrett’s dying Sphere. The stone and the runes stopped draining.
The stone released its power and filled him.
Jarrett’s body arched from the ground as wave upon wave of light and energy crashed through him, flares of green that nearly sent Tenn backward. But he kept holding on. Holding on to the power he poured into the stone. Holding on to Jarrett’s arm even as he bucked away. Holding on to the hope that this had worked. This had to work.
Another rumble. Another wave of power. A lance of energy as the stone cracked, as light poured out and nearly blinded him.