and then it was gone.
Breathless in the dirt, clammy with sweat, Eliana reached for the Prophet. What was that place? What did I see?
The Prophet’s voice was breathless with relief and wonder.
You saw the cruciata, they replied. And you were in the Deep.
24
Rielle
“The home the Kammerat have built is astounding—a thriving city of dragons and dragon-speakers, constructed in high mountain caves and canyons. Below, a lush green valley provides them with food and warmth. They say the saints helped create this haven after the Angelic Wars ended, and that they have lived undisturbed ever since. Until now. It has been difficult, convincing the Kammerat to fly to the Northern Reach and rescue their kindred. Their isolation is sacred to them, even at the expense of their own captured people. They say they will do nothing more in this war beyond that, and I don’t blame them. Leevi, however, still thinks he can persuade them. He’ll have to persuade me too, I confess. Why leave this sanctuary for a hopeless war? But Leevi is determined, and so beautiful in his hope for victory that it takes my breath away.”
—Journal of Ilmaire Lysleva, dated February, Year 1000 of the Second Age
Rielle woke in the Northern Reach.
As soon as she opened her eyes, she recognized the bedroom she had shared with Corien. Its black stone walls, the thick white furs draped across their bed, the wide wall of windows framing glaciers and a sky of dimming sunlight. Mountains and sea, industry and fire.
Everything that had happened sat at the edge of her mind, a vivid portrait of her own design, and she shivered to look at it. The bitter taste of ash still coated her tongue. In her ears echoed the crash of a dark sea.
Corien sat at her bedside, watching her quietly. He was in his everyday black—vest of brocade, tunic buttoned at his wrists with obsidian, high square collar, cloak fastened at his shoulders with ebony pins.
She pushed herself upright, her body lighting up with pain, and croaked, “Do not harm that girl more than you already have. Obritsa had no choice but to obey me. If you hurt her again, I’ll kill you.”
“You assume I’ve done anything to her at all,” he said, unblinking.
She laughed, which made her raw throat burn. “You are an unconvincing innocent.”
Only then did Rielle notice the three nurses bustling about her, changing the bandages that wrapped around most of her body. Three humans—two women and a man. Had they chosen to serve the angels in exchange for the lives of their loved ones? Their nervous eyes flitted up to her face and then back to their work. Her skin stung where they had slathered it with salves; she was encased in long white strips of cloth.
And still Corien watched her, pale and still, but Rielle did not flinch from him. She had opened the Gate with her bare hands. She was radiant with pride; she was a force unmatched. And she knew, when he looked at her, that he sensed it too: a change between them. A ripple of new tension, the bend of a current changing its course.
The power she had demonstrated was beyond what either of them had expected.
Rielle shoved the nurses away. The sudden, sharp movement left her burns screaming. “Leave us. I can tend myself.”
Then she stumbled to her feet and tore the bandages from her skin one by one. At first, the pain was searing, as if she were tearing off strips of her blistered, blackened flesh. But she set her jaw and pushed through the agony to imagine herself whole and smooth, as she had once been. She sent the thoughts up and down her body. Waves of quick power, sculpting.
By the time she removed the last of her bandages, her skin had healed, and all her pain had vanished.
Unabashed before Corien and the gaping nurses, who had frozen at the door to watch her undo all their work, Rielle went to the enormous mirror that leaned against the wall in the room’s far corner. Fascinated, she examined her nakedness.
There was a golden sheen to her skin, and the ends of her hair and fingers sparked like a struck anvil. Her irises were twin circling storms of gold, only thin bands of green remaining. Her lips were pale, bitten, and chapped. Shadows stretched long and deep beneath her eyes, and there was a new hollowness to her face, as if something essential in her had been scooped away. She