Page 83 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

From the trunk, the bark ripples and parts like a living door, and two figures emerge. I know without asking who they are. Astor and Calia.

Something akin to fear, then trepidation, then awe flashes through me, leaving me unsure how I truly feel in this moment. I’ve grown up knowing the gods resided on Sgya, and the last time I was here, I was in too much pain to really consider what that meant. Now, seeing them before me, I’m not sure whether to curtsey or hold my chin high.

Their eyes meet ours—Astor’s burn with silver light, Calia’s glow with molten gold. Before I can decide on whether to bend a knee, Calia speaks.

“Son of the Sea. Daughter of the Forest,” Calia says, her voice layered and resonant, as if spoken by a thousand echoes. “The answers you seek will be given. The time draws near when the balance must shift. The powers within you will resist, for the lifeforce must be restored. Go beyond these lands, to the old places—to Caelus. There, the awakening to reclaim what has been lost still waits.”

Astor steps forward, the weight of ages in his gaze. “She waits beneath the evening sun—patient, deliberate. Two crowns and a son now bend beneath darkness, and their choices will hasten the unraveling of the Veil. Beware the one whose heart stands divided. Darkness is the home she knows. Light has yet to claim her. And the crown you would trust?”

His mouth tightens. “Its bearer is no longer whole. What was once loyalty now festers in shadow. The war that approaches cannot be stopped. It cannot be reasoned with. It cannot be defeated. It must be survived—until true balance is restored. Awaken the storms, rebuild what has been lost, and light the way home.”

And just like that—before I can speak, before I can even breathe—they’re gone. The clearing still hums with their presence, the flowers still pulse with their impossible light, but the space they occupied feels hollow, as if the forest itself is holding its breath.

I drop onto the sodden ground with a huff of disbelief. “Can someone, for once, just speak plainly?” I groan, fighting back tears.

I wanted answers, not riddles.

“You’re mad the gods didn’t speak plainly, but you dismiss that they spoke at all, love.” He pulls me into his chest, cradling my head as he kisses the top of it. “You got us here. You got the gods to speak to us. That isn’t nothing.”

He’s right. I let the words permeate my mind, settling into memory so that they won’t be forgotten. Once we get home, I want to sit down with Elison and my father, even Professor Ainslyn. Maybe with a few minds on their words, we can solve the riddle.

I step out of his embrace and take a moment to look around. It’s different from the last time we were here. That had been hell, but this feels…oddly peaceful.

The trees, the energy, the animals…all of it is so unique and so extremely beautiful. Calia is a beautiful artist.

I still can’t get over the way her eyes glowed gold, like mine. Does it have to do with the power of the stars themselves? My head feels like it could explode from the amount of questions I have for her.

I turn back to Ryker. “Care to explore for a few minutes before we have to return home?”

He looks around a moment, then nods and reaches for my hand.

As we stroll through the forest of corded trunks and pulsing violet moss, I find myself leaning into Ryker’s side, unable to tolerate even an inch of distance. On Sgya, my need for him feels less like hunger and more like a resonance. My magic harmonizes with his, as if the planet of the gods itself is acknowledging that we are two halves of a whole.

Unlike last time, creatures of various sizes make themselves known. There’s another large white cat similar to the one in the Drift, with rows of silver markings on its pristine fur that lies across a thick branch, its long tail swishing lazily as it watches us. Its black nose twitches, but otherwise it appears to ignore our presence.

Various birds and butterflies flit through the canopy in an array of colors. A monkey with pink and orange fur, like the colors of a flower, jumps through the thick branches high above.

“I’m always so amazed at how much we have yet to see of this system. Imagine going your whole life stuck on a single planet and never traveling beyond. Never experiencing the vastness of what the universe has to offer,” I hum softly.

“This place is beautiful. Tell me, what’s one planet or moon that you’ve always dreamed of visiting, and haven’t yet had the opportunity?”

Easy. “I’d like to visit Einvald. I’d love to walk the halls of Ael’drien.”

Ryker bumps my shoulder. “Look at you speaking Elvisiah.”

I feel a blush spread to my cheeks. I don’t know why his praise when it comes to languages should matter, but it does. He can speak and read so many of them. I can only understand because of magic, not because I learned it.

We exit the forest, finding our way down the slope toward the edge of the river. It’s late afternoon, or at least I think it is. The time on Sgya messes with my head. I can only hope that our hour here hasn’t meant it’s been days back home.

Ryker helps me over a boulder, pulling me into his arms, his mouth meeting mine in a quick kiss.

Behind him, a branch snaps, drawing our attention. I’m startled when we hear, “Son.”

We both turn to find King Aki standing there, his appearance haggard and worn, but otherwise, he looks…fine. For being trapped on Evello, one of Sgya’s moons for the past five years, almost six now, he looks like he needs a shower and a hot meal, maybe a shave, but…

“Father?” Ryker says in disbelief, staying anchored to my side. A range of emotions flit through his eyes—everything from shock, hope, and anger.

For a heartbeat, he stares at him—like he’s seeing a ghost, like some small part of him still can’t quite believe it. Something fragile flickers there…and then it’s gone.