No . . .” Selene whispered, her eyes pinned to the wound. “This can’t be.” But the evidence was there before her. Someone had found Amara’s physical body and stabbed her. And now she was manifesting in the dream world what her real body was going through. “Please, no. Amara.”
Amara crumpled to the ground and stared up at the sky. “I guess you won, Selene.”
Selene knelt down and placed her sister’s head on her knees. Since she was not in the same room as Amara, she couldn’t see who had delivered the blow. But if Amara was indeed next to Damien’s bed, most likely it was Taegis.
No, I can’t think about that now. She stared at the spreading stain around the hole in Amara’s tunic. There’s no time.
Using her power of will, Selene blocked out the panic and grief threatening to overwhelm her. Instead, she brushed the short curls around Amara’s face, wondering for a moment when her sister had cut her hair. Was that one of the sacrifices she had mentioned? “I never wanted this.” Selene caressed her sister’s head. “I never wanted to fight you. I’d hoped that one day we would serve our people together, with our gift.”
“I don’t think it would have worked.” Amara coughed and blood spluttered out of her mouth.
Selene bit back a sob. “I think it would have, if we used our gift to inspire our people. Let me show you what I’ve discovered so far.” She placed her hand on her sister’s forehead, then closed her eyes.
Images flashed from her mind to Amara’s: visions of the first time she saw Damien’s soul, and the overwhelming desire to carry such a light. The times she visited Damien’s dreams and soothed his mind. The day of the Festival of Light when he showed her how he used his power to worship the Light.
Then she shared her own dreams and desires: to use their gift to help people, all people. To bring peace through their link to the dreamscape. To inspire the weary and the broken.
As the images sped between the sisters, Selene realized something. Every image, every memory pointed back toward the Light. Her desires, her dreams, her gift. Like Damien’s worship, she began with her gift, and it ended with the Light.
Even now, she was using her gift to point her sister to the Light, without even meaning to.
Amara coughed again, and Selene opened her eyes, disconnecting their thoughts.
“I don’t know . . . what to say,” Amara said, her gaze growing duller by the moment. “It reminds me of some of the things Breven said.”
Breven?
Before she could ask, Amara struggled beneath Selene’s hand. “Don’t—Don’t let Opheliana die. Or be taken by House Friere. She’s all I’ve ever cared about.”
Selene cupped her sister’s face while she screamed inside. She was losing her sister, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it other than comfort her. “I won’t. Be assured I will rescue Ophie. I will show her what I’ve shown you: the real reason we were given these gifts. I will make sure she grows up surrounded by love and light.”
Amara’s eyes went dim again as she focused on Selene. “Thank you. I-I think I cared about you too, a little. I was just too jealous to see how much we needed each other.”
Selene pulled her sister close to her chest and brushed her cheek against her sister’s head. Tears fell amongst the silky curls. Amara’s breath was ragged and labored. Spittle mixed with blood coated the front of Selene’s tunic, but she didn’t care.
“Those images you showed me,” Amara whispered. “Are they real?”
“Yes.”
“The Light . . . he’s real?”
“Yes.” The moment she said that, she felt the undeniable certainty in her heart. Yes, the Light was real. And she wanted to follow him the rest of her life.
“Then I acknowledge . . . the Light.”
Selene pulled Amara even tighter to her chest. A moment later, Amara went still.
At first, Selene couldn’t breathe. She could still feel her sister in her arms. But inside her mind, she knew Amara was gone. This was only her dream body. Her physical one was simply a shell now, an empty one.
Her power began to build inside her chest. Selene worked her mouth. The scream was coming, she could feel it. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. It was an avalanche inside her, building until she looked up at the sky and screamed.
In answer, an invisible tidal wave swept across the dreamscape, leaving in its wake a raging storm. Selene clutched Amara’s body to her chest as the wind thrashed around her, whipping her hair and her cloak. Dark clouds churned overhead.
She screamed again, her voice carrying across the dreamscape, echoing across the tempest. The world around her shuddered and heaved under the barrage of her emotions. Lightning flashed, followed by the boom of thunder, and rain came pelting down.
Selene dropped her head and rocked back and forth, sobbing as she held Amara.
A crack rang out across the sky, like the sound of a whip. It was the same sound as her heart breaking. Fissures formed along the edges of the dreamscape, spreading like ice cracking along a frozen river. The cracks grew longer and longer until pieces of the dreamscape dropped away. The clouds disappeared, and so did the rain. The tower, then finally, Amara’s body.
There was no sound, no wind, nothing. Selene knelt, her head bowed, her face stained with tears. For a split second, she wondered if she had broken her own dreamscape with her power, but then she sank back into numb apathy.
Then a flicker of light appeared.
She lifted her head and stared at the tiny spark, no bigger than the head of a pin. No matter which way she turned her head, her gaze still came back to it. The same flicker of light from earlier, during her confrontation with the Dark Lady.
The monks’ chant as they entered Nor Esen during the Festival of Light filled her mind.
A song about the darkness, and the light that came when all was lost.
As if sensing the words within her, the light grew, expanding the flame.
A light that spread across the lands.
Now the flame was as big as a bonfire, and still it grew, devouring the darkness around her.
A light that darkness could not extinguish.
The light grew brighter and brighter until Selene ducked her head and brought her arm up to her face to shield her eyes. Even then, bright light seeped between her lids, more blazing than the whitest light.
Dreamer.
The light tenor voice was similar to Damien’s, and yet it seemed to hold so much more.
The light was so brilliant she couldn’t open her eyes. “Who are you?” she said, her head bowed and her arm still across her face.
You already know. I’ve been waiting for you.
The Light. She was as certain of it as she was the moment she declared she would follow him the rest of her life.
Dreamer, let me show you who I made you to be.
The light disappeared.
Selene found herself in her raven form, soaring above Rook Castle on a bright summer day. The Magyr Mountains were a deep green around the towering grey castle, and the sky above her was a clear, pale blue with rolling white clouds. Rook Castle looked magnificent from this high up, the architecture ancient and open.
Cool, soft wind glided past her black wings, allowing her to soar along the slipstreams. The sun’s bright rays warmed her back and head. There was a peace here, high above everything, a peace that soothed her heart.
She hovered for a moment, then dove for the towers below. Just as she reached the ramparts, she turned hard to the left, then pumped her wings as she sped back upward.
The wind caught her and lifted her higher. Selene let the air carry her and sighed. Her wings were spread wide as if embracing the wind itself. Her heart gave a wistful twinge. If only Amara could have experienced this.
As she reached the pinnacle of her ascent, she caught sight of a lush green forest to the south.
Wait.
That couldn’t be right. There was no forest there, not for miles beyond the Magyr Mountains. Unless . . .
She glanced toward the west. Beyond the Omega Wastelands she could see Ironmond, the capital of House Friere. Even though she had never seen it, she knew it was Ironmond by the descriptions she had heard from her mother. And north of Ironmond lay the city of Shanalona.
Selene turned every direction. Nor Esen stood to the north, Lux Casta to the west, Rafel’s capital city of Surao within the great forest to the south, and even the stronghold of House Merek, Burkhard.
She could see all the lands of all the nations from up here. And high above her was an unending sky.
Selene spread out her wings and slowly circled back down to the highest tower of Rook Castle, the same place she had been earlier with Amara.
I am everywhere. The wind seemed to spread the invisible words. Every domain is mine. Both dreams and reality. To you I gave the gift of the dreamscape.
“Why?”
Dreams are where the deepest part of a person dwells. It is there that fears, hopes, and desires exist.
Selene knew that only too well.
This is the gift of the dreamwalker: to remind the people of peace, hope, and joy. To comfort those who are sick and dying. To inspire those who are fighting. To bring light to those in the darkness.
“But how?” She continued to glide along the wind in her raven form above the tower.
What you receive, you pass on to others. Through their dreams.
Selene looked around, then stared at the spot in the middle of the tower, the place where she had held her dying sister. A sunbeam shone across the stone floor. It was there she had shared her own visions of the Light.
She flew to the spot, then transformed into her human form, knelt down, and brushed her hand along the warmed stone. This was how she could help people. This was what her gift—what the Ravenwood gift of dreamwalking—was meant to be.
To remind people of the Light.
“I understand.” No, it was more than that. The feeling grew inside of her until it filled every part of her being. “This is what I want to do. For the rest of my life. But—” She looked up. She couldn’t see the Light, only the sky above her. “What of my sister?” She swallowed. Her sister would never experience this.
All things are in my hands. Even your sister. Let them remain there. I will take care of them.
In his hands.
Selene looked down and stared at her own palm.
In the hands of the Light. Brilliant and beautiful.
A small smile spread across her lips. Her heart was still heavy with emotion, but a sudden image of Amara spreading her raven’s wings and soaring beneath the light brought a measure of tranquility.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Now it is time for you to go, dreamer. And remember this: I am with you.
The scene around her began to fade into a dim grey, growing darker and darker. . . .
Selene opened her eyes. A night sky greeted her above gnarled branches. The ground beneath her was cold and soft. She slowly sat up and placed a hand along her face. She felt battered and bruised, her face blotchy.
“Lady Selene!” Karl came crashing through the bushes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Karl.” Selene stood up on shaky legs, her hand still to her face. “I fell asleep and—” Her eyes went wide.
Damien.
She dropped her hand and looked at Karl. “We need to get back to the palace—now.”