With the rain showing no sign of stopping, they had little choice but to wait it out. Ellie, worried the Hunter might return, scouted the woods for a place to hole up.

They were quiet as they walked, moving in the pattern they’d established over weeks of finding and setting up camp. But something had changed between them. Ellie sensed it in the set of Nox’s wings and shoulders. He was looser, lighter.

He carries his troubles deep, his grandfather had told Ellie. But she’d never imagined just how deep. She felt like a terrible friend; all this time he’d been carrying such heavy guilt, and she’d been too wrapped up in visions of destiny to notice.

“Find anything?” Nox called out from a short distance away.

“No. You?”

They regrouped and stood for a moment in the scant shelter of a cedar’s branches, shivering.

“Here. We haven’t eaten in hours.” Nox handed her a wrapped loaf of bread from his pack. She took it and tore it in half, sharing it between them.

They chewed in silence for a few minutes, watching the rain.

“I’ll go with you,” Nox said at last.

Ellie looked at him.

“To Thraille,” he added. “I’ll go. That doesn’t mean I believe your theory, or that I’m going along with your plans, but I’ll go and see what’s there. If there even is anything to find.”

She nodded, looking down at her bread. “What if there isn’t?”

He flicked the raindrops from his wings. “Then we keep going. We spread the skystones, and the story of Tirelas. You’re right. All of this is Garion’s fault. He wants to keep everyone crushed against the ground, where he can control them. He killed my mother. And if us spreading the truth ruffles his feathers, then I say let’s shout it into every ear in the Clandoms!”

Ellie grinned. “Right. After Thraille, we’ll go to—”

She cut herself short, her eyes fixing on a shadow that dropped suddenly from the clouds above.

“Nox!”

“Gargol,” he muttered, drawing his slingshot. “And I’m out of rocks.” He fitted one of Gussie’s smoke tubes into the weapon instead, then drew it back. “It’s moving fast!”

“We could split up.”

“I’m not leaving you. No more splitting up.”

“Nox—!”

He fired.

The tube exploded in front of the gargol, spreading a cloud of blue smoke. But it would do little good except to blind the creature for a moment.

“C’mon, Ellie!” Nox grabbed her hand and pulled her into the trees.

“It’s still coming!” she shouted.

They both looked back as the shadow sped through the smoke and descended upon them, covered in blue chalk powder and … coughing.

Coughing?

“It’s … not a gargol,” Ellie concluded, slowing to a stop.

“Gargol?” shouted the now-blue shadow. It swooped lower and hovered over them, shedding chalk dust from its wings. “Seriously? Using my own weapons against me? Which, by the way, wouldn’t do any harm against a real gargol.”

Nox and Ellie exchanged looks.

“Gussie?” they chorused.

The Falcon girl wiped powder from her face and glared at them. “Honestly! I know it’s been a few weeks, but did you completely forget what I look like?”

“What are you doing here?” Ellie asked.

“And where’s Twig?” added Nox.

Gussie’s expression turned grim. “That’s why I’m here. In … the Thornmoors, apparently. What are you two doing out here, anyway? There’s nothing—”

“Gussie!” Nox’s wings curled. “Where. Is. Twig?”

She shut her eyes. “He’s been captured by Goldwings. And … taken to Thelantis.”

Ellie and Nox stared in horror.

“It’s bad,” Gussie said. “Really bad. They’re going to execute him.”

*  *  *

“How did you find us?” Ellie asked.

They were sheltered in an old burrow large enough it might once have housed a bear. Whatever trouble Twig was in, there was nothing they could do until morning, when it would be safe to fly again. While Ellie swept out the leaves and sticks that had gathered inside, Nox piled brush over the opening, until they were as hidden as could be. Gussie, who’d apparently run out of her own supplies, had torn into theirs with ravenous hunger.

“Oh. Right.” Gussie took something out of her pocket—a small brass box made to hold a ring or trinket. When she opened it, though, Ellie saw she’d fashioned some kind of contraption inside. A clear glass ball rested in the middle, supported by small metal rods that held it suspended in the air. Inside the ball were a bunch of small blue crystals, none larger than a sunflower seed.

“Wait a minute …” Ellie peered closer. “Are those … ?”

“Skystones,” Gussie confirmed. “Well, pieces of one. I sort of maybe smashed a few … for scientific purposes …”

“Gussie!” Ellie groaned.

“Hey, look what came of it!” Gussie rattled the contraption. “I call it a skycompass. You see, it turns out that skystones don’t float for no reason—they’re attracted to one another. Once I figured that out, I of course saw the navigational implications. That is, I realized we could use them to locate more skystones. So I invented this compass. On clear days when there are no sky islands floating overhead, the bits instead point toward the nearest stones—yours. See?”

She turned the box, and the skystone shards in the glass globe shifted, so no matter which way she held it, they pressed toward Ellie’s satchel—where her and Nox’s three remaining skystones were stored.

“That’s … incredible,” said Ellie.

“I know. It’s pretty ingenious.” Gussie took the compliment with her usual grace. “I did get a little off track chasing down dead ends. Stopped in a Finch town before this; guess you two were already there and left a stone behind. Anyway, the compass finally led me to you. So it wasn’t all for—”

“How do you know Twig’s in Thelantis?” interrupted Nox. “And how long have they had him?”

“They ambushed us five days ago, outside Vestra. I got away, but Twig …”

Couldn’t fly. Of course. Ellie pressed a hand to her churning stomach, thinking of how terrified Twig must have been.

“Anyway,” said Gussie, “before I got away, I heard them talking about how they wanted to bring us back to Garion for questioning before they executed us. They knew who we were, and … well, I guess they wanted us to help them find Nox.”

Ellie nodded, wishing there was room to pace. Her body buzzed with restless energy. “So he’s safe for a little while. I mean, as long as they think he has information they need … They might even try to use him as bait to lure us in.”

“Then it’s working,” said Nox. “Because we’re going to Thelantis.”

“What are you doing all the way out here, anyway?” asked Gussie. “There aren’t any towns nearby, just those awful Thornmoors.”

“Ah …” Ellie exchanged a look with Nox. “Long story. But obviously we’re changing course now. We go to Thelantis in the morning. For Twig.”

Nox gave her a surprised look. “Even if it means giving up on Thraille? Like you said, the Hunter could be on his way there now.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Gussie raised her hands. “The Hunter? He’s alive?” She glanced between them as if wondering what she’d missed, but then she shrugged it off. “Right, well, it can wait till tomorrow. Because I’m exhausted. You have no idea how hard I had to fly to find you two.” Yawning, she curled up right where she sat, her wings folding around herself. “Wake me for third watch. Or better yet, not at all.”

After Gussie had fallen asleep, Ellie sheepishly gave Nox the letter his grandmother had written.

“I should have given it to you the night I opened it,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

He read it a few times by the light of their dwindling oil lamp. Then he sat in silence for a long while. Though Ellie ached to discuss the letter with him—and the secret that might be hiding in Thraille—for once, she held her tongue. She busied herself with her satchel instead, reorganizing its contents and taking stock of their remaining supplies.

After several minutes, Nox put the letter in his pocket and looked up. “Well, I guess I should tell you that Granna gave me something for you.”

“What?”

He pulled out a small leather bag from his own satchel and handed it to her. “I … probably should have given it to you days ago too. I guess I was sort of, um, not in the mood.”

She raised an eyebrow at that and took the bag. Its contents clinked enticingly. When she opened it, her confusion only grew.

“Seeds of destiny?” Ellie whispered. “Like from Tariel’s Seed Ceremony?”

Nox nodded. “Granna said you seemed pretty interested in them, and that there might come a time when you needed a little … guidance. I guess these were the ones left over from Tariel’s ceremony. I hope you didn’t have your heart set on being a dressmaker because that one’s already taken.”

Ellie tilted a few of the clay balls into her hand. There were dozens in the bag, each the size of a large blackberry.

“Did she say anything else?” she asked.

“Uh … yeah. Choose wisely. That was all.”

“Huh.” She ran her hand through the bag, wondering how many different destinies were hidden inside.

“Well? You gonna open one?”

Her stomach flooded with butterflies. What if she opened one and it was something completely different than she wanted? Like a fishmonger or a traveling minstrel? Did anyone ever get a destiny they were totally unsuited for?

But then, that wasn’t how destiny worked, was it? It wasn’t random. It had meaning and purpose. That’s why it was destiny.

“What if Thelantis is a trap?” she said, rolling one of the shells between her fingers.

“It almost certainly is. They’re using Twig to lure us in.”

“And by abandoning our quest now, everything we’ve worked for these past few weeks will be lost. The Goldwings are destroying the skystones we gave away, and the truth about Tirelas with them.” She closed her fist around the shells. “Things will go on as they always have. Or worse.”

The gargol attacks would increase. Wingrot would spread faster.

And there’d be no one to stop it from happening.

“Maybe,” Nox conceded.

“What if this is it?” she whispered. “What if choosing to save Twig means turning our backs on destiny? What if this is the moment when I drop the flame and the sky falls as a result?”

Nox shrugged. “You know what I think? Destiny or no destiny, that’s not what matters. What matters is that you make the choice. You decide which way to fly.”

She looked down at her hands, her brow furrowed.

“Ellie, you asked me why I was so scared that destiny might be real. Well, what about you? Why are you so scared it might not be?”

“Because … I can’t be wrong again,” Ellie said quietly. “I spent my whole life believing in the King’s Ladder, in the Goldwings, in honor and law. I truly believed that if I worked hard and followed the rules, I’d find a place where I could … belong. But then it turned out none of those things were true, were they? I was wrong about everything, and I lost everything. My home, my clan, my dream.”

Nox watched her quietly, and this time, he made no snarky interruptions.

“After that,” whispered Ellie, “it was like I was lost. I didn’t know who I was, or where I fit in, or what I was meant to do. I was just one more …”

“Outcast?” Nox asked, with a sad smile.

Ellie lowered her eyes. “I’m not like you, Nox. I’m not cut out to be on my own, looking out for just myself. It’s not that I want to save everyone so I can be a hero. It’s that … I want … to figure out where I belong. If it’s not with Sparrow clan, or with the Goldwings … then where? I want a home, Nox. And maybe Tirelas is supposed to be that home. Not just for everyone else, but for me too. Isn’t that what this destiny thing is about? And Elder Rue’s vision?”

“Ellie.” He sank into a crouch, his elbows resting on his knees. “Do you really not see it? That place where you belong? It’s with us—with me and Gussie and Twig. You don’t have to prove anything to us. Skies, Ellie. You flew into a storm after me. You faced gargols to try and save Twig. You … you didn’t give up on me, even when I’d given up on myself. If that doesn’t prove you’re one of us, what does?”

Her lip quivered. She looked down at the shells clenched in her hands.

“When you protected us from the king back in Thelantis, you didn’t lose everything. Because you still had me, Gussie, and Twig. We’re your clan now. Not because destiny told you so. But because you chose us and we chose you. Home’s not always a place, you know. Sometimes … it’s people.”

Deep in Ellie’s heart, it was like a knot had come loose. She let out a long, shaky breath, and finally the tear she was holding back slipped free to run down her cheek. “Even if I’m too bossy and manipulative?”

“Well, I’m not saying those are my favorite things about you.”

“You have a favorite thing about me?”

He laughed. “Nice try.”

She studied the shells thoughtfully. “Well. Can’t hurt to ask. If destiny wants to weigh in, let’s give it one last chance.”

She cleared a space in front of her and used her knife to carve a shallow basin in the dirt floor. Then she poured the seeds of destiny into it, watching them roll and clack together until at last, they all settled.

Right.

Choose wisely.

She pulled the oil lamp closer and drew a deep breath. Then she held her hand over the shells, trying to let destiny guide her. One of them was the right one, but which? Her fingers roamed, brushing each seed, until at last she felt it—a tug, right in her belly.

This one.

She lifted the clay shell between her thumb and forefinger, holding it level with her eyes. It looked like all the others, insignificant and plain, but the swelling pressure in her chest and the goose bumps prickling her arms told her this was the right one.

Before she could start second-guessing herself, Ellie set the ball down and split it with the hilt of her knife.

Then, heart, hammering, she lifted the two halves and stared inside. She felt Nox leaning closer, trying to get a look at …

Nothing.

No slip of paper or carving or trinket. Just two empty half-moons of clay.

“Uh …” Nox frowned. “Maybe a dud? Like with Gussie’s smoke bombs? One in every four doesn’t work, you know.”

“Right. Like the smoke bombs.” She just had to choose another.

Ellie’s fingers grazed over the seeds until she felt another tug. This time, she didn’t wait. She split it open right away.

Empty.

For a long minute, Ellie stared at the remaining clay seeds. Then she began choosing them at random and cracking them open as fast as she could.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

Finally, she sat over a floor littered with clay shards and nothing else.

Then she began to laugh.

“Uh … Ellie? You okay?”

“Of course they’re empty,” she said.

That was the point, wasn’t it? It was just like Nox had said. He might have known they were empty and planned the whole thing for all she knew.

“Destiny or no destiny,” she murmured. “That’s not what matters, is it?”

Life wasn’t as simple as reading your future in clay, or smoke, or even the crystals in Elder Rue’s cavern. If there was such a thing as destiny, it didn’t go around revealing itself to anyone. She thought of Tariel in her ceremony, cracking open her seed and announcing her future to the world.

Tariel hadn’t received her destiny. She’d chosen it. She’d chosen where she belonged.

As Granna was trying to tell Ellie to do. As Nox had.

Choose wisely.

Her destiny could come from nowhere but inside her own heart. Only she could decide which path to take now. And whatever the flame was, and whatever Elder Rue’s vision had meant, Ellie had already sacrificed too much trying to fulfill it. She’d almost lost Nox. She’d split up their group. She’d manipulated and pushed and prodded everyone around her.

All for a destiny that may or may not be real.

But she knew what was real—her love for Nox, Gussie, and Twig, and the knowledge that no matter what, they’d be there for her.

And she’d be there for them.

Ellie brushed dirt back over the basin she’d dug, burying the pieces of the clay shells.

“Forget Thraille, then,” she said. “I’m done trying to force things to happen. If there is such a thing as destiny … it’ll have to take care of itself.”

“So we’re going for Twig?”

“We’re going for Twig.” She met Nox’s eyes. “And skies help Garion if he gets in our way. Because nobody messes with my clan.”