EPILOGUE

Spider, suspicious of the sun, kept to the shadows.

—COLLECTED FOLKTALES

The desert stretches out before me, bleak and brown. Lives have been scratched here into the dirt, but the misery of my people echoes. It reached me in the World Between, and it reaches me still.

The Elsiran soldiers have taken the capital city of Lagrimar. Their motorized transports cut across the country, inspiring awe and hope in those they pass. Word of my awakening has traveled with them. I ride upon the wind, crossing the vast distance in almost no time at all.

As I fly, dark heads tilt up and dark eyes rise to me. I block out their awe and fascination, their reverence and wonder. Block them out until I locate the one I seek.

He stands at the entrance to the city. His power is a brilliant star outshining a sea of flickering candles.

Your Majesty. His thoughts reach me cautiously. Not a smidgeon of awe can be found.

Darvyn. I smile internally, enjoying his wariness. Quite a lot of trouble could be avoided if people were more wary. Though for Darvyn, trouble is inevitable.

He has been through an ordeal these past weeks—one I did not foresee—and there are more tests to come. For I have need of him. Again.

You must go west, I tell him. He clenches his jaw. You will aid the new king and queen, Jaqros and Jasminda. I force myself to numb the sliver of jealousy slicing my heart when I think of them—their love, a living, breathing entity, taunts me. But I cannot begrudge these children their happiness.

No. I need to find her. His thoughts turn to his own tattered heart. To the woman who owns it.

Sympathy and sentimentality are like quicksand. I cannot allow them to pull him under as they did me.

Now is not the time for you and her. I owe the new queen a debt, and it must be paid. Family is all that matters now. And it is high time Jasminda’s family came home.

His eyes bore into me coldly. I call the wind to me and rise into the air. He will help.

I will give him no other option.