The end was near. As the aethi’kine egg and the rift moved closer together, the world was healing. With every inch the isle dropped, the barren void receded, its poison shrinking beneath the deluge of power flowing through Lyana’s body, not all of it hers. The creature was helping her somehow, its magic passing through her spirit the same way it passed through the priests’ and priestesses’, using her as a conduit for an immeasurable source of life.
The spell was crumbling.
It wouldn’t be long now.
Through the creature, Lyana felt the other hatchlings, two more just arrived, two lost, their souls still some sort of moving anchor for a magic she couldn’t begin to understand. Beneath her palms, the surface of the egg rippled as the being within began to force its way out. The moment the rift returned to its natural spot, the creature would break free.
Lyana knew it.
And she knew exactly what to do.
No panic sped her heart. No fear constricted her throat. No hesitation clenched her gut. She was clear. This was what she’d been born to do. Did she want more time? Of course. Yet she’d lived long enough to explore not one but two worlds. She’d loved. She’d laughed. Her days had been full, her faith had been strong, and whatever came next, she believed her gods would see her through. They’d chosen her. They wouldn’t abandon her now.
A brief image of Malek in his final moments flashed.
His reddening skin. The boils. His charred fingers.
She refused to be afraid.
“Ana!”
Rafe’s voice pulled her from the magic. Golden light flooded the sacred nest, whipping through the trees like a godly wind. Leaves rustled. Branches snapped. There was no sign of the doves or the sky or the world beyond these crystal walls. Saturated power swirled around her in a storm. With gritted teeth, Rafe pumped his wings, taking one forceful step at a time, his feet skidding back even as he fought to move forward.
“I’m here!”
“Ana!”
He pushed with renewed vigor, moving until his face no longer hid behind a translucent golden sheen but was close enough for his blue eyes to pierce. They touched her straight to her soul. He was her partner. Her destiny. Her king. And he would do this for her, not because the world depended on it, but because she asked. For him, it had always been that simple.
“The air and fire creatures are here,” he called across the chaos, still struggling for another inch. “The mages are spread thin. I don’t know how long we can hold them.”
“Don’t,” she said softly.
He scrunched his brows. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t hold them, Rafe. Don’t let anyone else die. Let them come.”
“But, Ana—”
“Please, Rafe. Let them come.”
Realization passed over his features, leaving him slack-jawed. He looked up, then side to side, then at the egg hovering beneath her hands. A frown flitted across his lips and he shook his head. His wings dropped just enough to send him stumbling back before he regained his footing.
“Ana.”
“Rafe, listen—”
“You’re setting it free.” He spoke the words as though they were a foreign language, too unfamiliar to be believed. “It’s excited. It’s eager. It’s…helping you.”
“Rafe—”
“You can’t,” he urged, his muscles flexing as he stood his ground. “You can’t let that thing out into the world.”
“I’m not.”
“But—”
“I’m not,” she repeated more firmly. “I know what I have to do. Bring the creatures here. I need them close when the moment comes.”
This time, as his understanding dawned, not a fraction of him moved. Pain exploded in his spirit, strong enough to make her wince, even as he remained frightfully still. The throbbing pounded at her soul, the sort that couldn’t be healed. Heat burned in the back of her throat, a flaming knot. Her eyes stung. They looked at each other across the billowing aethi’kine power, part of the madness, yet removed in their own private world.
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t try to change her mind.
He didn’t hold her back.
The connection between them burned as bright as ever, two hearts and two minds formed into one. A king of fire. A queen of snow. Two equals bound by trust.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
So she did.