“So she’s in Alevé?” Will asked. “And you trust that woman?”
I met his eyes.
“She told me, just before she died. I think… I think she died trying to protect me from something.”
Will’s brow tightened. “But you said she stabbed herself. Why would she do that to protect you? That doesn’t make sense, Kera.”
Aran cleared his throat. “Unless she was scaredshe’dhurt you.”
“There was something inside her,” I said. “She said it told her to kill me. But she didn’t want to, and then she told me to run. But I—I couldn’t. And then… it was like something took over her body. Took over her mind. It spoke through her. Moved through her.” I forced the words out.
“Yousawthat happen?” Will’s eyes widened.
I nodded.
“And everything else she said was true,” I said. “Everything she taught me helped. So yes. I believe her.”
He didn’t respond, just gave me a small nod, like he couldn’t bring himself to hope, but he wouldn’t argue either. It felt good, telling them what happened. What really happened. It was easy, maybe too easy. Maybe I should’ve kept some of it to myself. Well, I did keep one thing to myself.
You’re not human.
Aran rose, brushing dirt from his hands. He looked at me, then at Will.
Well, Alevé’s not too far from here,” he said, trying to sound casual, but his eyes gave him away. “So let’s go get her. We’re going south anyway.
“There’s one more thing,” I added. “She said that Licia is stuck. Trapped.”
“What does that mean?” Aran asked. “Trapped how?”
“I don’t know.” I paused, heartbeat ticking in my throat. “She pulled these cards. And there was a picture.”
They both looked at me.
“A cage.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The path wound ahead through endless trees. Sunlight slipped through the canopy, scattering across the world in fragments of gold. I tried to hold on to it, the branches, the smell of damp wood, but nothing could pull me out of my own head.
We were moving again. Somewhere in South Vestance, and every step I took lead me further from who I used to be. And yet, somehow… more into who I was becoming.
A roar split the quiet.
It wasn’t a scream, and it wasn’t an animal. It was heavier than that, deeper. A sound that seemed to crawl up from the belly of the earth, low and relentless, vibrating through the soles of our boots.
“What’s that?” Aran slowed his steps, head turning toward the sound.
Will kept walking, but his eyes tracked the trees. “I think it’s… water.” He adjusted the strap of his pack. “It’s close.”
The sound filled everything. We walked faster, the roar swelling with each step. The wind rose, sharp against my skin, and the forest began to open.
A waterfall spilled over the edge of a jagged cliff, a column of white and silver crashing into a dark pool below. The last of the light caught on the water and broke apart.
“We should stop here,” Aran said behind me.
Will nodded and dropped his pack.
I stayed where I was, arms tucked around myself, eyes on the water. The crash of it. The brutality of it. How something could be that wild and beautiful at the same time.
