Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

I knelt beside him, speechless.

“Thank you.” His breath labored in his lungs, an ugly, gurgling sound. “For protecting her.”

A scrambling noise drew my attention, and I looked up to see Brakae crawling through the snow, silent sobs catching in her throat. The dagger still protruded from Faolán’s chest, and I pulled with everything I had left, determined to provide Brakae with a slightly less gruesome image to remember her beloved by.

Taking the dagger with me, I turned my back as Brakae gently lowered herself on to his torso and wept in earnest. Had she been able to look into his eyes one last time before he faded away? I refused to intrude upon her private moment by turning back to see. Brushing away hovering snowflakes, I limped to the stone podium at the center of the ring of stones. A pit-pat sound accompanied every step, blood dripping from my scored and stabbed flesh to stain the snow-covered ground with shiny red tears.

I approached the hourglass with caution. It wasn’t every day I attempted to set time aright. My ring glowed white on the neck of the broken half as if waiting to be put to work. Love really was an amazing thing. It could mend hearts, break them, and bend the very fabric of time and space. It bowed to no one, and could bring you to your knees for the right person. My eyelids drooped; I was keeping my eyes open by sheer force of will. Damn, I wanted to sleep for a century or more. But my job wasn’t finished-yet.

I stared unblinkingly at the hourglass for what seemed like forever. I looked around past the ring of stones at the naked tree branches and snowflakes dotting the air. Time to set the natural order back in balance . I shivered, finally feeling the chill. Or was it fear that shook me? How much time had passed at home? Were my loved ones safe?

All I had to do was reach out and pluck my ring from the neck of the glass, but my brain was having a hard time getting my arm, hand, and fingers to obey the command. How could I face Tyler again? My actions had been a betrayal of our love. Shame boiled in my stomach, twisting it with regret.

“Just reach out and take it, Darian.” Moira’s voice was soft, soothing.

She stood behind me, and I didn’t turn to face her. “When did you come to?”

“Too late to be of any use.”

“Sorry about that.” I really was. “I shouldn’t have knocked you out.”

“No. And I won’t forget it either.” She sounded playful, but the moment was too somber for comic relief. “You did well.”

I choked on a sob, swallowing it down. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be counting it as a victory.”

“No,” Moira whispered. “This is indeed a tragedy.”

Understatement of the century. “Just reach out and grab it, huh?”

“The ring belongs to you.”

“It’s not going to explode or spontaneously burst into flames?”

Moira laughed without humor. “Not likely. Just take it, Darian. Trust.”

Trust. Like I had any idea what that was. But I reached out anyway, my fingers trembling. God, I was afraid. I wrapped my fingers around the ring- my ring -and the warmth pulsing from the silver put me at ease. If the ring hadn’t burned my hand to ash, then maybe that meant Tyler could forgive me. I pulled it from its perch, and as I did, the snow left its stasis and began to float in a slow waltz to the ground. A warm breeze kissed my cheeks, and the branches of the trees quivered, tiny buds of green dotting their once-bare arms.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“Darian…”

Brakae’s voice, tiny but somehow strong, drew my attention from the natural wonder before me. Slipping my ring back on my thumb, I left Moira to collect Reaver’s half of the hourglass and went to check on Raif’s daughter. Raif’s. Daughter . My God, I’d really found her. Well, more to the point, she had found me.

She left Faolán’s body in the now-melting snow and walked toward me with slow, measured steps. Like a hollow representation of her former self, she limped along, gripping her side to stem the flow of blood from one of her many wounds.

“Are you all right?” What a stupid question.

“No,” she said, and I respected her for her candor. “But I will be.”

Time heals all wounds, right? “I-Brakae-” Fuck, what the hell was I going to say? Sorry I killed the guy you used to love.

“We are nothing more than the servants of destiny,” she said, holding her hand out to me. I took it, and, well, it didn’t even feel a little awkward. “Leave this behind like a stone on the road.”

Raif had said that to me once. I felt the sting of tears at my eyes and bit back the emotion. I missed him. Brakae looked as tired as I felt, as emotionally raw and worked over. We’d both passed through the eye of the storm and come out on the other side. And I knew neither of us would ever be the same for it. Her gaze lowered to my neck, and her lips curved in a sad, wan smile. From her robes she produced a glowing green emerald suspended from a length of silver chain. “The Key,” I said, taking it from her waiting hand.

“It’s not an easy job,” Brakae said, “being the Guardian of Time.”

“Or the Keeper of it,” I added. Her gaze dropped to the ground, and sorrow consumed her expression. She had it much worse than I. She’d suffered and sacrificed. She needed a ray of sun in the dark of her life. “Can I bring your father here?” Hope swelled within me at the thought. I refused to believe Raif had died in that hotel room. Damn it, he had to be alive, and I was going to reunite him with his daughter. “So he can see you?”

I saw a trace of sunlight in her expression, maybe the beginning of a long road toward healing. “I would like that,” she said. “Very much.”

Suddenly, I felt a little sun as well.

Moira joined us, carrying Brakae’s half of the hourglass in one hand and Reaver’s half tucked in the crook of her arm. Weren’t we just the embodiment of girl power? “Brakae,” she said, “your wounds need tending.”

Her knees wobbled beneath her, and I reached out to support her. Where were those trauma nurse Sprites when you needed them?

“I can help her,” Moira said.

“You’re a Healer.” Levi had mentioned that. I was going to have to keep that guy on retainer. “Right?”

Moira nodded and made her way to Brakae. She touched her fingertips to her skin, and a soft blue light flowed from the wound, moving outward like rings on glassy water. She began to hum while she worked, a rhythmic, melodious tune that snaked around me and filled me with emotion. It struck me as strange, the way lives and events intertwined to form the knotted chain of destiny. It made me think that, maybe, life wasn’t just a random pattern of bullshit tied to bad luck or good fortune. “Moira…”

“Do you really want to torture yourself with the truth, Darian?”

Damn mind readers . “Can I talk to him?”

“No. It doesn’t work that way.”

“He knew. Azriel had to have known all along what would happen to me. It isn’t coincidence. I just want to know the why and how of it.”

Moira sighed. “He made you what you are.”

What was that, exactly? Damaged? Distrustful? A control freak who refused to open up to anyone?

“He made you strong ,” Moira said. “Perhaps Azriel strayed from his path, but without him, you would have died today.”

“Raif made me strong.” No way was Az going to get the credit.

“Raif made you a fighter,” Moira corrected. “Azriel made you capable.”

I opened my mouth to argue. I didn’t want to acknowledge that Azriel had done anything but permanent damage by taking me under his wing. But Moira’s gaze locked with mine, a warning-or a suggestion. Do not speak of it. Her voice echoed in my mind. Leave the past in the past , Darian.