Page 14 of A Sea of Fate and Starfire

The shape pressed a hand against the veil, fingertips poking through, vibrant with warmth against the silver. He tried to step through, but the sand under his foot fell away, refusing to carry him.

One.

One last heartbeat. One last footstep. One last breath.

I ran short of each.

Aalto dimmed back into the twinkling constellations above. And the dust under me gave out.

For a moment, I was weightless in the air. Death veered around like he might try to slide under my feet. But then he spilled softly apart, silver sand crumbling away, no longer my guide to the afterworld.

Fingers outstretched, I fell.

But a hand broke through the veil, clasping onto mine.

And the shape fell to his knees, a second hand grasping mine, leaning enough through the silver sweep of Perpetuum’s boundary to see the dark gold curls of his hair.

He hoisted me into the afterlife, gathering me into his chest, sweeping the hair from my face so he could see my eyes.

“Hello, girl from the islands,” he said.

I gave a breathless sound; something between a gasp and a laugh and a cry. “Hello, boy from a castle.”

8

Maren

Kye caught me, drawing me up and pulling me in, my body covered in ash and burns and blood and the solid weight of his arms. The pain in my leg vanished the moment I fell through, though a limpness conquered my muscles instead. Everything in me liquefied, leaving me slack and listless.

“Did I make it?” I asked, my airway tight with skepticism and relief, and only then realizing I hadn’t expected to. The thought caved into my center, leaving me hollow with ice. Every moment since watching Kye fall into a white bed of snow had been a dream, a dream that had only grown darker, and I hadn’t let myself imagine I might wake up from it.

Kye’s fingers laced through the tangled hair at my crown. “You made it,” he murmured against me.

“You’re fucking welcome.” My voice cracked against the blood-stained cotton of his shirt. His chest was hard under my weight. Dense and compact and real. But the heartbeat I’d grown so familiar with didn’t drum against my skin. Lungs didn’t vent against my cheek.

And the scent of him, that herby garden storm, was nowhere to be found.

His throat tightened against my temple, thumb sliding a soft stroke over my arm as he tucked me in close. We sat for a few minutes, cradled into each other, Kye squeezing my arms like he hadn’t yet convinced himself I was there.

Naiads drifted along the veil, called by the arrival of one of their own. They floated past us like gleaming phantoms wafting through smoke. Face buried in Kye’s body, I watched them go.

Except for one. A young woman remained nearby. Not close enough to disturb us, but near all the same. She closed her eyes, tilting back her head, and released a slow exhale.

My fingertips found a narrow hole in the center of Kye’s shirt, just long enough to have been carved by a blade. “You left.” The words burned against my throat, my voice a sudden fracture. “I called and called, but you didn’t answer. You left.”

Kye swallowed against my hair. “I watched you at every step. Until you found the Fates.”

“I bargained it away.” I pulled back enough to look up at him. I didn’t clarify what I meant. I knew he wouldn’t need me to.

His thumb caught a streak under my eye. “I don’t need it.”

Something in me firmed. Perhaps it was the Naiad in me. I didn’t need it either. I’m not sure I ever needed it.

I wanted it.

Kye’s mouth curved as he studied my eyes. He was luminous here. Perpetuum shrouded him in gold, and every part of him seemed to gleam from within. Moreso than the Naiad standing behind him. Silver sparkled under her skin instead, cool and pale. She watched in silence, midnight hair twisted loosely over one shoulder.

“Are you Cebrinne?” I asked her. The question left me in a flat voice. Unfeeling and harsh. Something thorned and sharp wound deep in my stomach the longer I gazed at her.