world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us,
but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of
healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the
very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan
smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to
unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces
of it from its very essence. Maeve never
learned it—and never shall.” His jagged
breathing deepened as he savored each word,
each step closer. “It took all of them to hew
the keys from the gate—every one of the
healers amongst my kind. But you, with your
gifts—it would only take you to do it again.
And with the keys now returned to the gate
...” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill
you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen
thought so, too. She could not conceive that I
wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any
harm could come to you. And now that I have
... What fun you and I shall have, Yrene
lily
(lily)
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