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Narcissa blinked in a daze, as if remembering what our purpose was, as if remembering our goal for this entire ritual.
Close the veil. Close the veil. Close the veil.
Alek breathed heavily behind me. I turned to find him frozen, the look of defeat dripping from his features.
He was no longer concerned about the amount of blood pouring from my veins, was no longer fighting to get to me, to protect me.
No, even the strongest of demons would be brought to their knees by the power within the veil.
“Now, you must enter.”
“WHAT?”
Alek and Wrath heard her words too, the three of us fighting to process them at the same time all while the wind picked up around us, whirling the dead leaves and sticks and roaring through the air.
“You opened the veil, Lyra. You. To close the veil, you must go through.”
“I can’t enter the veil!” I yelled over the roaring wind. “I’ll die!”
“You will not die. Just like your friends here, you will come back through.”
My stomach sank, my chest tightened, that terrifying numbness rushing back through my body.
Fear. That’s what this was.
Fear that I would die. Fear that I would walk through that veil and never come out again.
Fear of what I would see once I was through.
With the howling wind whipping my hair across my face, ripping at my jacket, my jeans, my exposed skin, I could not hear exactly what Wrath and Alek were saying now.
I had a choice to make.
End everything right now and live with the consequences of the veil remaining open for good.
Or step through that shimmering green shower of power and risk everything to save the world.
I took one second and silently pictured Theia.
This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? For me to feel this fear? To feel the consequences of my actions?
Well fucking played.
I took a step away from Narcissa, away from the warmth of the fire, away from Alek and Wrath, and approached the veil.
“Lyra, stop!” Alek barked. His voice rattled the trees, shook my bones, halted the wind.
I spun and looked at him.
“This isn’t worth it,” he pleaded. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape. He fought against Wrath again, trying to make it to me, trying to stop me.
Still, he held his hands out in front of him, begging.
“It has to be me,” I urged. “There is no other way.”
“There’s always another way, Lyra.”
I shook my head. “Not now. Not this time.”
