power.
I draw a breath, noticing how different this dawn feels than the last one that I remember, when North and I sat where the forest-sea met the ruins of our ancestors, and all I could see was the darkness of uncertainty … and the fragile wish to abandon destiny and stay there with the strange cloudlander I hardly knew.
The morning air dries the tears on my cheeks. I never wiped them away. For once, I didn’t mind showing how I felt. All my life, I’ve had to be something else, something more than human. But North never really believed in my divinity, so what did it matter if he saw my humanity?
I shiver, but not from the cool breeze on my face. Humanity wasn’t the only thing I showed him. I can still feel the pull of the mist, the whisper of its power, the promise that, now that I had the strength to manipulate the very fabric of magic itself, I could do anything. Make anyone else do anything.
I could make you stay… .
North’s face in the moments after I spoke, when the mist curled closer about him, is etched into my mind’s eye. Shock, disappointment, anger—but most cutting of all, fear. I never wanted anyone to be afraid of me.
And I never thought I would be afraid of myself. That I’ve manifested my aspect—the destroyer, the Lightbringer—is clear. But at what cost?
North is gone. He is a vital part of the prophecy that will save my people, and I have let him go.
I’ve failed them all.
I set about packing up the camp, moving slowly, my mind only half-fixed on the tasks at hand. I don’t know where to go. I’ve had no message from Matias, and by now Inshara’s agents will have no doubt doubled their watch on Jezara’s house.
But I pack, because I cannot stay here. Perhaps I will just begin walking, and keep walking until my feet will carry me no farther.
It’s only after I’ve stowed everything away that I realize the bindle cat has been gone since dawn—ordinarily, he would have found his way back again by now, having hunted down some small, scurrying thing for his breakfast. A tiny sliver of thought, both hopeful and forlorn, wonders if the cat saw our party splitting and went with the one who needed him more.
Or perhaps even the bindle cat was frightened away.
I walk back toward the scroll, which is still laid out and held open by the stones North placed at its corners. It looks like gibberish now, so many layers of messages written directly on top of one another. No matter how long I look at it, none of that deeper understanding returns to me.
Perhaps, comes an unbidden thought, because you let him go and abandoned your purpose, you are no longer the Lightbringer.
“What else could I do?” I burst out, my voice hoarse in the crisp morning air. “I will not become that thing—you cannot make me into a weapon so deadly that I wound all that I hold dear. I am not Inshara! What would you have had me do?”
Of course, the scroll does not answer me. The lettering remains still, revealing no new insight. The final piece of the prophecy is emblazoned in my mind as if the scroll etched it inside my skull, but already the certainty it brought me is fading away.
Without North, I have no way of learning what the “place of endings and beginnings” is, so I cannot follow the prophecy’s instructions.
After everything that’s happened, despite the new power I control, despite all that I now know … I’m back where I started.
I will not fall apart. I will think again on the latest stanza. Perhaps there are further clues. The mother of light shall speak … Surely, that must be referring to Jezara. She is more Inshara’s mother than mine, but symbolically she is my predecessor—her life as a living divine, her choices, are what led to mine.
I have to continue. I must go back to Jezara’s house and find out what she has to say about this final piece of the puzzle. If Inshara’s agents are there … well, very little can stop me now. I will handle them.
I sling my pack over my shoulders and then retrieve the scroll. Gazing down over the valley, I can see the curve of stone on the far side where Jezara’s house burrows back into the mountains. Though I don’t relish the idea of confronting her again, I’m