Her hair tangled, glowing like moonlight woven into threads.
And then—
She jumps. Leaps from Astenos’s saddle as though there is no doubt in her heart that I will catch her.
I do. Of course I do. I catch her, because she is the only thing that matters in this realm or any other. My arms close around her shaking body. I snap a ward into place on instinct—one, two, three glowing glyphs to protect her from whatever still lingers in the air.
I crush her to me, hand cradling the back of her head as I look around the field.
Silence.
Utter and complete.
The tetheryard is a graveyard of twisted monsters. Hundreds of dead, steaming bodies litter the earth like a nightmare laid to rest. Black ichor bubbles where it spilled, dissolving into the soil. My blood thunders in my ears.
I look down.
Void help me, my heart stutters yet again.
Auryn is staring up at me, unblinking. Eyes too wide. Too calm. Too still. A thread of silver blood slips from her nostril.
With shaking hands, I thumb it away, my voice a rasp, “Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head, pale lips parting on a rattling breath. “You said to be with the horses,” she whispers.“So, I was. But then the sky broke open. It wanted closed. So, I helped.”
So, I helped.
Like a simple thing. Feeding the horses. Mending a shirt. Like she hadn’t just torn herself open to seal a tear in the world.
I stare at her. Beyond speech. Beyond anything. My mind replays the image of that rift sealing shut—again and again. No understanding comes.
“You closed the rift…”
Auryn nods, slow. Distant. Her gaze drifts to the horizon like she could still see whatever had crawled through the tear.
Thessia is the first to break the spell Auryn had woven over the tetheryard. And me.
“You did it!” she calls, bursting through the smoke with blood on her boots and fire blazing behind her teeth. Her cheeks are streaked with gore, her golden braids whipping like banners in the wind. “Moonbeam, you gods-damneddid it!”
My grip on Auryn tightens, shielding her—one arm braced around her back, the other hovering near her side. She feels so fragile in this moment. This small body couldn’t have borne such powerful magic without consequence. Her skin has gone pale. Silver blood drips from her nose onto my vambrace, soaking into the grooves between the etching.
She doesn’t notice; her gaze glassy. Distant.
Thessia kneels in front of us, gripping Auryn’s shoulders, eyes wide with awe. “You closed the Rift with nothing but light and song and bare hands—” Her voice cracks. “Gods, starlight—let me swear myself to you. I’d wear your name until the end of days.”
Auryn blinks then gives her a weak, dream-dazed smile. “You should wait…until you’ve seen me in the morning…” Her voice is thinner than age-worn parchment.
“Thessia,” I say through a clenched jaw.
She looks up, flushed and grinning. “What, Shadeslayer? Can’t a woman pledge herself to a miracle?”
“There are more immediate concerns.”
Her grin slips. She glances down at Auryn’s trembling frame, at the way her breath rasps now, thin and rattling. The blood on her lip. Her fingers twitching.
Thessia’s hands freeze on Auryn’s shoulders. “You’re bleeding,” she says, voice sharper now.
A trail of silver blood slides down from Auryn’s nose, bright against her skin. It flows without stopping, dripping, pattering onto my vambrace. With everypat-pat, my dread winds tighter.
