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She chews on the inside of her cheek. I force myself to release her, to ease up. To wait.
Weakly, she nods. “Have you ever been outside of the Vale?”
“No,” I say, wrinkling my brow.
“Well, I have.” She gulps. “That’s where my family is from. We came here three years ago, because my parents felt compassion for this place.” There is a note of bitterness in her voice—not strong, but like a fragrant candle mixed with the subtle scent of a burnt wick. “They plunged me and my brother into shadow for the sake of those living in darkness.”
“Wait—are you saying there’s a place beyond the borders of the Vale where the ténesomni doesn’t have dominion?”
The bolétis reflect in her eyes. She doesn’t nod or shake her head but leans forward and whispers, “I can’t say anything else. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to speak of such things?”
“Fine.” I can’t hide my disappointment. “Just tell me about the stars.”
Instead of answering, she grabs the book and whispers the verse.
At the dawn of the world’s birth,
the fire lights were ignited;
An unquenchable flock without number,
piercing the black cloak of the sky.
They shone through the ages,
a lasting gift from the Highest.
The crystalline constellations rested
when the Burning Star drew nigh.
She hands it back. “I can’t tell you much more than what’s written here. It is true, there are lights in the sky. What fuels them, I don’t know. But they never burn out, always giving heat during the day and lighting the path at night.” A wistful look claims her fair features. “I think the night sky is what I miss most from before.”
A hunger growls within me as she weaves her riddles, a hollowness reaching ever deeper into the core of who I am. I’ve felt it before, when the solas left me. When I discovered the Ellithïm I could have been living in all my life. When my father connected with Bryn on a level I’ve never witnessed.
When I watched Belwyn walk away.
A weight spreads over my chest, turning my lungs to lead. I fight against the pressure, sucking in breaths in quick succession. My ears ring as my pulse picks up, drumming in my fingertips, my throat, my head, until the rhythm is audible.
Wehna stands up, staring into the onyx canopy with alarm plain in her posture.
She can hear it too.
I scramble to my feet, grabbing the book and dropping it in my bag. “What is it?”
Her head shakes. “I don’t know.”
Dread clings to my skin like an icy mist as the drumbeats roll in on the wind.
“It’s the beginning of the Challenge Ceremony,” a voice says behind us. We turn around, finding Tress approaching. She hugs her arms around herself, her face as white as the flowers blanketing the hedges. “I haven’t heard it since I was a little girl.”
Wehna and I exchange glances.
“The what?” she asks.
Tress blinks a few times, as if surprised to find us standing here. “Someone has challenged the Foremost for his position in the Vale.”
“Can people do that?” I ask.
