her, and she will burst out with tears, with blame and a stabbing finger. I have taken from her that which she loved most, I have tested her faith, and I have given her nothing more than I think so in return.
But she simply nods once more, and turns wordlessly to walk from the room, leaving me alone with the only one of my party who didn’t sacrifice everything for me. Silence stretches long, and then Elkisa sinks slowly to one knee, reaffirming her loyalty with that simple gesture. My throat tightens.
I was the one who took them all there. I was the one who insisted on walking alone. I was the one who left them to face the cultists without my protection, and left Elkisa to make her own way back, believing I had died, and she had failed.
“Had they been given the choice, they would all have gladly died for you, Divine One,” she says quietly, as if reading my mind. “As would I.”
And finally, tears spring to my eyes. Ignoring the presence of the healers and their acolytes, I drop to my own knees, making Elkisa look up in surprise.
Slowly, saying nothing, I lift my hand in my half of the old, seldom-used gesture of warmth and friendship. Elkisa swallows, her blue eyes meeting my gaze finally, and in that moment her resolve crumbles. She lifts her hand too, holding her palm outward, a breath away from mine. It’s a gesture of absolute trust and faith—for should she wish to, she could tip her fingers forward and touch me, ending my life as a divine being forever.
“They did not die for nothing,” I say, my voice no more than a breath. “I was right.” More than anyone, I need Elkisa to understand this.
Her eyes widen, and her own voice drops to a murmur. “I have met the boy who came back with you… .” She trails off, a thousand questions in her gaze.
I nod, resisting the urge to look around to see if we’re being observed. Instead, I keep my words vague. “He is important, El. If I am right about him, then perhaps my purpose lies clear ahead of me. Perhaps it is greater than we dared imagine.”
I see the moment she wonders if I could be speaking of the one we have waited for these many centuries.
Lightbringer.
Elkisa opens her mouth, but then freezes for a long moment until her hand begins to tremble. Rather than risk it brushing mine, she drops both to the floor and then up to cover her eyes, a salute of the deepest respect of the devout toward the divine.
“I will protect him as I would you, Divine One.”
Moved by this display of her faith, I whisper a blessing, and ease back to rest on my heels.
“I will find a way to be worthy of your devotion,” I say quietly. “I am sorry for what you have been through.”
She looks up, and with a faint twist of a smile, she pulls us both back to normality. Once again, we are friends, rather than goddess and guard. “If you think you’re going for a walk without me again, you are sorely mistaken,” she says.
I am so very grateful for that smile, for even that small mercy. But the weight of all that has passed pushes down on me again, and I can do no more than nod in reply and then rise, turning to hurry from the infirmary.
The cat, who had been waiting for me at the doorway, spares not a glance for my guard as we leave her behind, and trots along at my side. He’s never been very fond of Elkisa, in that endearing but inconvenient way that animals—and some people—have of displaying jealousy toward anyone their chosen person cares for.
As I make my way through the halls, navigating my way toward my quarters, unbidden, a face flashes before my eyes in the darkened corridors. A delicate, handsomely featured face with a sharp nose, warm brown eyes, and a smile far too charming for his own good.
Is North the answer? Can he be connected with the Lightbringer’s coming—or could he be the Lightbringer himself?
My heart tells me with every beat that he is. I feel a strange, undeniable compulsion to believe that he and I were destined to meet. But does that mean I, with the weight of my divinity behind me, can see through to the truth of him? Or does it just mean that I am so weary