Daava and I walked nearly an hour along the sandy shore, under the cover of moonlight, before we finally reached a rocky outcropping. By now, we knew exactly what to look for; but the absence of light made finding the entrance nearly impossible. Eventually, we found what looked like driftwood that was tied and nailed over an enormous mound of sand and rock. Sure enough, the inside had a door—this one looking hastily put together.

Before we went in, I had to sit with my back against a sandy wall to catch my breath. Closing my eyes, I managed to ask, “Okay, how do we want to handle this? I go in, set off all the traps again, and you kick their asses?”

Daava answered with her sword; with a single overhead swing, she splintered the wood to splinters.

Fuck!

I scrambled in front of her, putting myself between her and the tunnel. For a moment, I could only hold my hands up, until I had managed to draw in enough breath to say, "Please ... stop ... just for a minute."

Daava turned away.

I gasped, looking at the space around us. I couldn't help but compare this moment to every other one where we'd gone into the tunnels. The ones where we'd had a plan, a strategy, or even a basic level of confidence that we'd make it through.

“We have to stop him,” Daava said simply, her eyes hollow with bags of exhaustion under them.

I nodded a few times and replied, “I get that. But … we’re not soldiers, and we can’t just go in there and arrest them. There’s no jail we can bring them to. And killing them ... I don’t think either of us wants to do that.”

Daava’s brow furrowed, like she was suddenly having a difficult time agreeing with me on this last point. Which made me worry. But then, the person I knew struggled to come back, finally giving the slightest of nods. “Yeah ... so we need to figure out how to make it so that he has no reason to ever make enchantments just to suffer as these have.”

“I agree ...” I said, finally feeling like I could slide back to the ground. For a few more moments, I panted and tried to think. When I couldn't think of anything, I finally asked, “How?”

Daava looked carefully at the sword in her now-massive hand. Still marked by the puncture marks of whatever it had done to make her grow as she had. “I think this sword means more to the Master than he lets on. I can get a solution out of him … if he thinks he can get more information about my interactions with it. So we'll have to keep our leverage.”

“What kind of leverage?” I asked, looking around, as if I were missing something obvious.

“The ability to walk away,” Daava replied seriously. “If the Master can’t overpower us, then we can walk out whenever we like, and he won’t get any of the information about the sword." She took a breath. "Which means ... I can't be focused on just trying to protect you ... not this time.”

Daava began to walk around me.

Wait ... did she mean to do this without me? Up until now, things hadn't been ... serious. I thought my bumbling through this adventure had been a point of fun. For both of us. But now ... did she see it as a liability. Was I a liability to her?

Fighting something painful in my chest, I placed a hand on her shoulder. "No, I don't want you to go alone. I can help, really."

Daava grasped my hand, hard. For a moment, I though it was because she was angry. But then she turned, tears lining her eyes. And her grip on me, it was trembling, like she was afraid of letting go. "I'm in charge of you, and I can't let you get hurt. If I'm good for nothing else, I can at least make sure you're safe." Then, slowly, she forced herself to release me, and continued walking.

"Wait," I said, nearly shouting.

I knew that I ... that I needed to show that I was more than just her bumbling pet. So I took a kneeling position on the stone floor, one that would have looked almost meditative. It was the exact submissive pose Namali had once taught me this spell from. Closing my eyes, I let my memories guide me. Arousal built within much more slowly than when I usually had to use it, on the fly. But building none the less.

"I’m sorry Relni," I whispered, as I opened my eyes. "I know this would have been a work of art." With the last word, a surge of magic spilled from my body, tearing through the tunnel. Ripping all matter of mechanical arms and devices from where they rested.

In a moment, the entire hall had been leveled. Smoke bellowed and oil pooled. And I couldn't help but feel like I had desecrated something sacred, even if it would have hurt our mission. But also ... I felt the full weight of my power. Something I had kept subdued for so long, having not wanted to ever let myself be in a situation where I'd actually need it.

Daava turned to look at me for a moment, then down at her own hands. As if they were something small, meager. "You ... never needed me. Nobody ever did. Not my mother, not my siblings, not my people, not even you."

"That's not true," I whispered, trying to gather the strength to stand.

However, it was like Daava could no longer hear me. She looked at the sword, invisible thoughts pulling her even deeper. Then she glanced back up at me with a fury. "But you ... you could have done that ... in any of the tunnels."

I blinked a few times, not understanding the look of betrayal in her eyes.

"You could have stopped the Master," Daava said, her jaw clenched. Tightening her grip on the sword. Its jeweled eye focused on me so tightly that, for a moment, I didn't even know who was talking. "In that first cave, you could have ripped him apart. Stopped all of this!"

"It would have killed him," I gasped, wincing on the red heat growing off the blade. "Or Relni, or your uncle, or any of the goblins working with him. And I didn't think-"

"Didn't think-" Daava gasped, shaking her head desperately. The sword nearly seeming to caress the same hand it had twice burned. "You just keep trying thing, hoping it will work. Hoping that someone will come to their senses. Keeping me from ending this. Fuck, even keeping the thing you keep hidden inside you from ending it."

I felt like the wind had been knocked from my lungs. All I could do was whisper, "I thought that us ... being together ... was the point. I thought you wanted me." Without thinking, I touched the collar she had given me.

As if in reflex, Daava's eyes flared and she reached for it, as if to snatch it away. Only barely stopping herself. Her eyes fell on her own hand, and the marks embedded in her wrists. Then Daava's eyes watered, as if seeing her reflection. "I'm doing it again. I'm ... I'm ruining things. With the last person who-"

I tried to reach for her, "You don’t ruin things, Daava, not for me!"

However, Daava recoiled, as if her own skin were riddled with disease. "And now I'm hurting you because of what I did to you. Making you think it was your fault. When I was the one making you hold back. Making you prioritize my people, even over your own life."

"No," I said, starting to reach for the sword. "Daava, I'm calling it, you need to let that thing go. Now."

But Daava was already gone, looking down at her own body like something monstrous. "It's not the sword. It's me!" Her eyes shot up rapidly at me. "This is what I've done, from the first moment we met. I dragged you to the University, even before you knew you had a choice. And after? You wanted to be a sorcerer."

“I chose that,” I said, shaking my head.

But Daava wasn't listening. "You wanted to be ... the person who fell into silly traps and then used her magic to save the day anyways! I'm the one taking that from you. I was the one who took over your University life. All to make you tailor all your magic to caring for my people."

Then Daava was quiet for a moment, blinking back emotion. She looked at my collar as a horror seemed to fall over her eyes. Then she looked at me and whispered, "I ... I stole your life."

"I could have said no," I said, almost before she’d finished speaking. Feeling like my words were slipping through my fingers. Then I touched my collar tenderly, like it was the most precious thing I owned. Because, to me, it was. "But even from the very beginning, I knew that I loved you. That I preferred my adventure in this world to be you."

"That's even worse," Daava gasped, pulling further away to again look at her sword. "And I'm doing the same thing to you. Trying to make you something soft when ... you're not. Trying to take away the justice that you deserve."

The shadow in my chest spread through my body like thorned brambles. It hurt, and I felt my body seize from the pain. I needed ... desperately needed ... to destroy that which was hurting her.

Daava again looked at me, between me and the sword, as if we were but reflections of one another. Two beings she had failed. Twin vines. "All this time, I called myself your owner. Like it was just an exciting way to say how much I cared." Her lips cracked into a broken smile. Like a joke I didn't understand the punchline to.

"The sword," I gasped, my throat feeling like it was closing off. "Whatever it's saying, it's lying to you."

"No, it knows that I have to end this," Daava gasped. "I can't let you ... or anyone else be hurt because of me." With that, she dashed forward, through the tunnel.

All while I struggled just to stand.