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Her daughter took a step backward. “You include me in that assessment.”
“Yes,” she bit out.
“Then, we’re done. Trulian will never leave either. How does he not see you for what you are?”
“Your father has nothing to do with this.”
Her daughter narrowed her eyes. “He is not my father.”
“We don’t have to go through this again.”
“I have no parents.”
“Please,” Mei whispered, broken.
She knew what she had to do. She had to go to Cavour. She had to put up the wall that would end this war. She didn’t know what would happen when she did it, if it was even possible. But she knew what would happen if she didn’t try.
She had seen it.
Everyone would die.
“Please,” she repeated.
“Good-bye, Mother.” The girl turned away from her and flipped the tent flap back open.
“Zahina, please…”
But she was already gone.
And Mei had to save the world.
On the back of Androma, Trulian found her. She climbed aboard, and then they were flying. Mei clenched tight to the dragon. She feared little since the visions had taken her at such a young age. But dragon flying always made her dizzy. As if she were that much closer to the spirit all around her.
They landed outside of her hometown of Cavour. She had been no one when she was plucked from obscurity due to her affinity for spirit. For years, she’d trained with the ambassador to take her place. Leaving her hometown for the city of Kinkadia, where she’d met and fallen in love with Trulian. But Cavour would always be home.
War had not been kind to the once-beautiful village. Dragon fire had destroyed near half the place in one go. Only the mountains had saved the people within, leaving the humans and half-Fae to fend for themselves against a war they didn’t want.
“I am sorry,” she said.
“Mei, are you sure?” a voice asked behind her. She had told him her plan on the way over. “These people… they don’t deserve this.”
“They don’t.” Mei whirled around. Her heart constricted.
Trulian had been the first to believe in her. His resistance meant that maybe even she was crossing the line.
“Can you even do it?”
She bit her lip and ran her hands back through her nearly black hair. “I don’t know, but what other choice is there? You know what they’re going to do if we don’t stop them. You were in the meeting, Tru.”
He glanced off to the mountains beyond her head. “This can’t be the answer. They’re monsters, but…”
“It’s the only way. I’ve seen it.”
“Seen it?” He frowned. “Again? You didn’t tell me.”
“Oh, Tru,” she whispered, all the secrets that lay between them clogging her throat. All the visions she’d never dared to tell him about as her mind shattered day after day along the campaign.
“Please,” he pleaded.
“Step back. I must work,” she said. “To save our very souls.”
And then before Trulian could talk her out of it, Mei lifted her brown arms toward the tri peaks of the House of Shadows. A bright, blinding light built between her palms, and she unleashed.
Power emanated from her hands and flowed around her home. Cocooning them. Protecting them. Isolating them. She poured all of her heart and soul into the spirit magic. Her people would be safe. The Society wouldn’t remember where the mountains were any longer. They couldn’t destroy her home. They couldn’t destroy everything.
“I’m sorry,” Mei whispered to Trulian just before the magic took her life force with it, draining every ounce of herself into the wall.
Trulian shouted, having just realized that she was not coming back. But Mei was too far gone to stop. The wall would stay up. It would stay up until it was time for it to come down. And she would make sure of it, even in death.
51
The Shift
Arbor
Wynter raised her hands over her head. “Do you feel it? Do you sense the shift? It is coming.” Her voice rose. “It is coming!”
Arbor almost yawned as she stared out at the emptiness. The wall wasn’t something she could see as much as Wynter claimed to be able to. But she’d dragged a dozen of her best acolytes out to the wall on horseback to watch her wave her hands around. The people were getting restless. It had been nearly a year since Kerrigan had been here and performed her miracle. Arbor had asked Fordham to return for Geivhrea, hoping it would reenergize the people. But he’d had plans.
She couldn’t exactly explain her reasoning and why it was dire. The people wanted—no, needed something to believe in. Wynter was the face, but Arbor was making it all happen. The king was slipping from popularity. If she played her cards right, then she could depose him anytime now. Maybe they wouldn’t even have to wait for Fordham and Kerrigan to return.
“It is coming!” the acolytes chanted.
