“This means we won’t encounter issues when the maalaichte cnihme come,” I murmured, settling back slightly. “The land is available, and we can bring our refugees there while we fight. It’s…”
He was still trembling.
Now, it wasn’t only shame, but fear.
He’d told me the least awful part first.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “What else happened?”
His lip quivered. With another sob, he said, “It was everyone and everything.”
“What was everyone and everything?” I asked.
He cupped both his hands over his face, cries morphing into uncontrollable weeps. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to, Véa, I didn’t mean to.”
Over and over, he repeated that phrase until I looked at him closer.
Until I paid closer mind to the energy wafting off of him.
Or rather, the lack thereof.
He disguised his energy signature, the one everyone with supernatural abilities carried. Why would he do that? Unless…
“You absorbed their souls?” I asked. “Is that what you didn’t mean to do?”
He pawed some tears away, shaking his head. “That was on purpose. I didn’t want Nix and Hana to feel them before I could explain. I wanted to explain to you, because you’re the most rational of us all. You’re listening. They won’t listen. Nix is going to—”
I lapsed to my feet, stood only inches from him, and grabbed his neck in my hand, forcing his gaze to mine. “Think again before you assume they’re the ones you should be afraid of. Tell me what the fuck you did and why you’re sobbing like my toddler before I call Nix back here and let him beat the truth out of you.”
He swallowed a time or two, not attempting to free my hand around his throat. “The lightning storm was all over Matriaza.” With a quivering lip, almost too quiet for me to hear, he said, “And Morduaine.”
My face screwed up in confusion. I stared into his eyes, waiting for him to elaborate, waiting for him to tell me what he meant. He couldn’t mean…
“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to what?” I asked again. “What did you do? What was the lightning storm?”
His entire lower jaw was trembling now. He still didn’t move from my grasp, as though he wanted me to slit the throat I held. As if he hated himself for what he’d done.
“It’s gone.” A sob accompanied his whisper. “They’re both gone.”
“What’s gone?”
I asked it, but I knew.
If it were a small matter, he would’ve downplayed this. He was begging for mercy instead. Lux was not one to beg for anything.
“Matriaza,” he whispered. “Morduaine.”
“What do you mean they’re gone?” I released his throat, stepping backward. “How could they be gone? Wh-what does that mean? What do you mean it’sgone?”
“All that’s left is the land.” Another sob. “I killed them. I killed them all.”
My chest grew tight, head shaking. I heard him, but I had to have heard him wrong. I misunderstood. This wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense.
“The people,” I said, walking backward toward the stairs, toward my babies. “You… you killed the people. Not the Conclave, but the people.”
“I didn’t mean to.” He stood, eyes pleading. “I-I—”