Chapter Eighty-Six

Kurogane shot forward like an arrow from a bow, shattering the walls of magic with his sword as he passed. Pain flared in his forehead, as if someone had taken a branding iron to his skin.

"A ward of protection, is it?" Ashura muttered, hands spinning in graceful circles as he unleashed another stream of runes. Not this time, Kurogane thought, shearing through the magic with his sword. It's time to end this.

"I don't care if you are a king," he growled, stepping into striking range. "Nobody fucks with the people I care about." Kurogane drove the point of his sword through Ashura's chest. Blood spurting out along the length of the blade, a brilliant, burning red. Ashura's eyes widened—like fish eyes, Kurogane thought irrelevantly—and his grip on Fai's neck loosened.

The pain centered on Kurogane's forehead flared once more, then dissipated. The curse, he thought. I forgot about Tomoyo's curse.

"That ward protected you, I see," Ashura gasped, looking at him with an almost paternal fondness. His shoulders sank as the life poured out of him, but still, he smiled. And the thing was, it wasn't a fake smile. It wasn't anything like the too-cheerful grins the mage tried to get away with, or the pale shadows those grins had become. It was . . . genuine. "Remove your sword."

Oh, like hell I will—

"Remove it!"

His lips twisted into a sneer. Fine, he thought, ripping Souhi free. Another gush of blood accompanied the motion, splattering his coat. You'll bleed out faster that way.

Pain flashed through the king's eyes as he turned to Fai. He reached out, tucking a strand of golden hair behind the mage's ear. "You must not shed tears for one such as I," he rasped. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. "I was hoping you would kill me . . . and remove that final curse, but . . . with their help, you may yet overcome it." He swayed, his hand falling away. Nearly half the fabric of his royal robes was stained crimson.

He fell with the grace of a king and the ceremony of a peasant. Fai collapsed next to him, trembling. "Your majesty . . ."

Kurogane glanced over his shoulder, then relaxed as he saw Syaoran sitting up, still alive. The kid gave him a nod, clutching the princess's body in his arms as the magic around him dissipated. Kurogane inclined his head, then crouched next to the mage, hoping the gesture came off as comforting rather than as a sign of weakness. Now that he'd dealt with the main problem, the aches of his body became more pressing. Between the king and the fool, he had enough cuts and burns to merit a week of rest, though he would've adamantly refused such if someone had suggested he take it. Wherever they ended up next, he hoped they at least had basic first-aid.

Something stirred in his peripheral vision, emerging from the pool in the center of the room. He tensed, grabbing Souhi's hilt in case he needed to attack, then relaxed as Fai—not the man beside him, but the Fai who had perished in that pit of death—rose from the water. Didn't I kill him? Kurogane wondered, remembering how the child's body had shattered when Souhi had sliced through it. Maybe that one was an illusion, he finally decided. It hadn't activated Tomoyo's curse, after all.

Though the child's body gave no signs of life, the egg-shaped gem in his hands cracked and shook as if alive. After a few seconds, it shattered, releasing a pale white feather. How many feathers fell into this world, anyway? Kurogane wondered. There had been the one the mage had given the boy in Hanshin, then the one that had come out of the magical construct that had taken the princess away in Infinity. With this one, that made three. Didn't it?

Doesn't matter, he decided, watching the feather float over to where the princess lay. It rippled as it merged with her body, but the girl didn't move. Of course not. That's just her body. Her soul is somewhere else.

"Fai . . ." the mage whispered, staring at one of the shards Ashura had used to replay his memories. An image shimmered over the glossy surface, and the air wavered, giving a voice to the people in the memory. Kurogane considered eavesdropping, then let it go. He'd been prying into the mage's past ever since they'd met in the witch's shop, and now he knew more than he'd needed to know. It wasn't that he cared. He didn't care about anyone's past. But he did feel a little guilty for dredging up those memories, now that he knew how horrible they were. Nothing to do about that now except let him have whatever privacy he needs.

As soon as the memory concluded, the real Fai collapsed, skin turning to dust. The mage reached for his brother, a sob breaking free of his throat.

"Let him rest," Kurogane ordered. The same words Tomoyo had said to him when his mother had been slaughtered.

The mage froze for a moment, then sagged where he sat. "It was all my fault. I could never let him rest, I . . . I . . ."

Oh, gods, please don't start crying, he thought, grimacing as a single tear slipped down the idiot's cheek. He glanced away, feeling useless and awkward. Can't do anything. He's not going to pull it together just because I said so, anyway. We'll probably have to drag him to the next world. Damn it.

"Kurogane-san," Syaoran called, limping over to him with Sakura's body in his arms. "We have to get out of here." He swayed slightly, and Kurogane stepped forward, grasping his arm to steady him.

"We will. We've got to—"

"We have to go now. This world . . ." He hesitated, looking over Kurogane's shoulder. Instinctively, he glanced back, looking for threats. When he saw the thick black lines spreading along the floor around the mage, he froze. What?

"Hey, mage, what—" The tendrils of magic spread suddenly, like blood dispersing in water. The lines crawled up the walls, wrapping around pillars, furniture, rubble, shaking the throne room even as the lines around the mage started to emit a bright glow. "Hey! What's going on?"

"This is the second curse," Fai whispered hollowly.

Second curse. The thought chilled him, echoing the king's dying words to the mage. The bastard knew, Kurogane realized, stunned by the injustice. Wasn't all this enough on its own? All the pain they'd endured, all the awful memories Fai had from that pit, all the blood they'd shed to make it this far . . . Wasn't it enough?

"The world is closing," Fai said, his voice suddenly urgent. Frightened. "My magic . . . It's my magic doing this."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means we won't be able to leave this place."

You've got to be shitting me. He grabbed the idiot's arm and started dragging him toward the meat bun. "We're getting out of here! Right now."

"We can't! None of us." He coughed, and for the first time, Kurogane saw how pallid and frail he looked. "I guess my magic doesn't get stronger the more I use it. Probably . . . the more I use it, the faster I rush toward death."

"You're just figuring that out now?"

"I still have some magic left," Fai continued, his voice quieter. "I can . . . I can try to . . ." He raised his head, looking at Syaoran. "Don't lose track of Sakura-chan or Mokona."

"Fai-san . . ."

"Just what are you planning?" Kurogane demanded. "Because if it's some self-sacrificing, redemption bullshit, I swear—" The surge of magic cut him off, and his vision flashed with blue light for a moment.

"I'm planning . . . a departure!" The runes twisted around each of them, splitting them into two separate groups. Fai pushed him away "Go with them!"

He doesn't plan to make it out of here, Kurogane realized. He snatched the mage's wrist, refusing to leave. He wasn't going to lose anyone else. Fai's eye popped wide open, then twitched as he started coughing up blood. "It's not enough. I don't have enough magic." The black lines curled up around them, forming a sphere. "You have to get out of here. I'm tied to the curse—I can't make it out. Just go!"

"No."

"The circle's going to close!"

"Let it close," Kurogane growled. "I'm sick of watching people die."

"You love Syaoran-kun, don't you?" Fai pointed toward the boy. "Go to him! You can't save me."

For a moment—just for the barest fraction of a second—Kurogane wavered. Then he tightened his grip on the mage's arm. "He'd never forgive me if I sacrificed you to save myself. Things could never be the same between us again."

"There won't be anything between you if you die," Fai argued as the magic sphere closed around them. Fai raked his nails along the inside of the barrier, tears glittering in his eye. "You can't save me."

"I'm sick of that, too," he said. "It's always like that. It's only the people I care about that I can't protect. I don't care how aggravating you are, I'm not going to watch you die."

"Look," Fai said, gesturing to a rapidly growing hole in the magic field. Beyond it, Kurogane saw the kid holding up the pork bun's earring as magic speared through the globe. "There's your way out. Go!"

"No!" he shouted, and then . . .

And then, he heard a voice.

Is that your choice? Is that what you truly wish?

Yes, he thought fiercely, not knowing where the voice came from and not particularly caring.

Then you must exchange magic equivalent to that person's magic, the voice said. A memory flickered through his mind, brought to the surface by the same foreign presence as the words, and he watched the mage drawing runes above his hand, merging Souhi with his body.

An exchange of magic, he thought, feeling the supernatural tingle of the wizard's magic in his arm. Souhi shivered, simultaneously warm and frigid in his hands. Of course.

He grit his teeth and released Fai's hand, scowling at the relieved look the mage sent him. This had better work, he thought, changing his grip on Souhi's hilt.

He brought the blade upward in a sharp motion, cutting through fabric, flesh, and bone. Blood spurted from his shoulder, a violent red shower. His arm, imbued with magic, fell to the ground, and he let Souhi fall with it. He felt no pain—there was too much adrenaline swimming in his blood for that—but he registered the look of utter shock on the mage's face as he grabbed the blonde by the collar with his remaining hand and yanked him toward the opening in the sphere. From behind, he felt the distinct ripple of the pork bun's transportation magic.

"I can't believe you did that," Fai whispered as the magic circle spread out beneath them. "I can't believe it . . ."

Yeah, Kurogane thought fuzzily as the dimensional sea folded around them. Neither can I. What kind of idiot throws away such a good sword? The liquid swallowed them up, as dark and empty as the space between stars. Kurogane closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of his blood along the side of his shirt. And then he was falling, falling, falling . . .