“Good luck with that,” Taly choked out, still struggling feebly against his iron grip. She couldn’t reach Zephyr or her second pistol, but she still had one trick left. Her breaths coming in ragged gasps, she started tearing at the wall in her mind, ripping out the stones and clawing at the power buried deep inside her.
Gold dust filled the room, and the man’s bloodshot eyes surveyed the scene with irritation. Taly felt a force push back against her, and with a growl, she brought her knee up and kicked him right between the legs. The man barked in pain, wrenching back and slapping her across the face, but the force dissipated. Not completely, but just enough.
With a furious, primal howl, Taly summoned every ounce of will, every scrap of pain, and threw it against that wall. She pushed, she thrashed, she flung herself at the mental barrier until she finally felt something inside her break. Her body began to burn as sharp, whip-like cracks of pain snapped at her skin, and the weight on top of her was blown away as the world exploded in a blinding eruption of light.
The power was flowing out of her, bursting through the dam, carrying the stones of that mental barrier far away. She kept pushing, even when she felt the magic start to wane. Even when she felt a tug at something that felt… important.
Throwing away caution, throwing away sanity, she dove into that hidden well of power and immediately hit another wall—although this one felt different, almost like it was coming from outside of her. The world tilted, and it felt like she was slipping. Her raging heartbeat stumbled and then… quiet.
Darkness and then…
Taly found herself back at… the townhouse?
She looked around in confusion. The Castaros had always kept a townhouse inside the walls of Ryme—a formal set of rooms and hallways that had always felt too new, too polished and unused to ever really be a home.
She recognized the room instantly, even if she didn’t know how she had gotten here. Ivory columns graced the center of the circular space, and the walls were adorned with what she assumed were great masterpieces. Sarina had once told her that the room “celebrated the theme of the soul bond,” and since she had never really had an eye for art (not in the way that Skye could look at light and shadow and color and see such beautiful stories hidden within), she had no choice except to believe her.
Taly’s eyes scanned the room, finally alighting on a small, wood block calendar resting on the corner of a dark wooden desk.
But… She shook her head, blinking in confusion. That’s the wrong month. It was still Meridian. The moons hadn’t moved into the Janus cycle. Not yet.
“Skylen!”
Taly started. She had never heard Ivain’s voice sound so stern. Looking around, she finally noticed the older fey noble standing on the far side of the room. Skye stood opposite Ivain, his arms crossed defiantly, and Sarina, Aiden, even Kato all milled about the room, ignoring the scattering of green velvet furniture.
“Enough of this!” Ivain barked. “We all want her back, but you have to accept the truth. She’s gone.”
“She’s not!” Skye insisted. His clothes looked unusually rumpled and stained, and his hair was too short. Everyone else was dressed in black.
“I’ve seen her,” Skye insisted, his hands raking through his hair. “I see her every night. She’s not gone!”
“Skye.” Sarina’s voice was full of pity. “I know how hard it is to accept the loss of a—”
“She’s not gone!” Skye bit out. His eyes were wide as he looked to his brother, who was the only one to meet his gaze.
A moment later, Kato hung his head in resignation.
“She’s not gone,” Skye repeated, this time more feebly.
“Surely you know what this looks like,” Ivain said, his tone a little gentler. “We’re worried about you.”
“What’s wrong?” Even to her own ears, Taly’s voice sounded garbled, almost like she was underwater.
Five heads whipped around at the sound of her voice, and Taly felt her cheeks warm when five disbelieving sets of eyes found hers. Barely a second had ticked by before Skye was rushing forward, grabbing for her as he fell to his knees. His hands passed right through her body. The vision was already starting to blur as the sound of rushing wind filled her ears.
“Stabilize her!” Ivain’s voice sounded far away. “It has to be you, boy!”
Taly’s eyes drooped shut, and she felt something pulling her back to the relay room—a gentle tug, almost like there was a string attached to one of her ribs.
A rush of magic washed over her, abruptly jolting her awake, and then someone was shaking her. Opening her eyes, she discovered that she was still in the townhouse. Skye gripped her shoulders, and she felt the distinct tingle of shadow magic anchoring her in place.
“Taly?” Skye’s voice was laced with panic. “Taly, where are you?”
Taly reached up to grasp at his wrist, but it was like trying to hold on to smoke. Something warm trickled down her cheek, and she wiped at it, expecting dirt or sweat, maybe even tears. Her eyes widened when she pulled her hand away only to see that her fingers were stained red. She blinked, and more blood began leaking from her eyes, then her nose, even her ears.
Something was tugging at her again. More forcefully this time. Urging her to return to the relay room.
“What’s happening to her?” someone snapped. Sarina? Maybe?
“Hold on to her!” But again, the voice was distant, jumbled.
Another spark of shadow magic and Skye was tapping her cheek. His hands remained clean even as they wiped at the streaks of red staining her skin. “C’mon. Stay with me. Just a little longer. Where are you? Are you still on Tempris? Are you at the palace?”
“Oh, my little one,” Sarina sobbed. She tried reaching for her, grasping at Taly’s shoulder, but it was like trying to touch a ghost. “What have they done to you?”
Taly stared at the blood dripping down her fingers until Skye gently wrapped a hand around her wrist. When she looked up, he was watching her, a mixture of terror and despair distorting his features. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she murmured.
“Where are you?” Skye’s voice was gentle and sad. “Please. I know you’re hurt; I know you’re tired. But I need you to tell me where you are. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you.”
Taly shook her head, not sure how to answer that question. She didn’t know where she was anymore, if she was anywhere at all. So, she said, instead, “I found the relay. I talked to Ivain.”
Skye jerked his head. “Taly, I know, but—”
The world abruptly dissolved into a haze of light and sound and color. Voices whirled around her. She was being pulled in too many directions at once, but Skye—he dragged her back somehow.
“Taly, please.” Skye grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back at him. There were tears in his eyes now, and the room still blurred around the edges, snapping in and out of focus. She felt his magic pulling at her, willing her to stay in place, but he was losing his grip. “Please, Tink. Come back to me. Just stay alive.”
As the vision continued to fade, Taly did her best to smile. “I’m glad I got to see you one last time, Em.” She looked around the room, taking in the faces of everyone she held dear—Ivain, Sarina, Aiden. And Kato—well, she still felt a bit lukewarm about him, but he looked so stricken she couldn’t help but feel a pang of reluctant affection. “All of you.”
“Taly!”
A sharper tug this time and then she was falling.
The next time she opened her eyes, motes of dust and ash hung suspended in the air, intertwined with sparkling pinpricks of golden light. Taly winced, shrinking back. Everything was too bright, the colors too vivid. Even the shadows seemed to come alive, and the quiet stillness was a raging tempest of sound to her overly sensitive ears.
Don’t do that again, a feminine voice whispered in her ear. The command was stern yet kind, and it stirred something inside her, some distant, forgotten memory. Now get up!
Taly pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the burning pain in her lungs. She forced herself to focus on her surroundings, despite the dull ache that had settled behind her eyes. She was back in the relay room, but there was light pouring in through the walls. It took her a moment to realize why. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the room, turning the platform into a ruined hulk. The relay had cracked and shattered, and the wooden frame that made up the walls of the building had been splintered—erupting outward in a spray of fragmented pieces.
But the scene stood frozen in front of her—a moment of devastation suspended in time. Shards of crystal and wood hung in the air, and she turned, looking for her attacker, only to see that the shadow mage’s body had been flung to the side. His face was constricted in a distorted howl of rage as he reached for her, but his body was still, his limbs contorted in a motionless struggle.
Go! the voice screamed. It was clearer now, almost musical. Stop dawdling, you stupid child!
The ground was uneven beneath Taly’s boots, and the crunch of shattered wood echoed in the stillness as she staggered forward. The sentries that had been banging at the door as well as the shades that had been drawn by the gunfire had been thrown back by the blast and were lying motionless on the ground outside the relay building.
Not quite believing her eyes, Taly pushed her hair off her face, coming up short when she felt a sharpened point where her ear should be. “What the…” she mumbled, running a finger over the foreign shape.
In a daze, she stumbled through the main entrance, stepping over the door that had been flung off its hinges before setting off at a full sprint toward the forest and where she had tethered Byron.
A myriad of questions boiled and frothed in her mind. What the hell had just happened? Was that real? Had she really talked to Skye or was it just some sort of hallucination?
No, she thought, looking down at her hands. Hands that didn’t quite look like her own. Her fingers were too long, her skin too pale, and her wrists looked thinner, more delicate. There was fresh blood staining her fingers, and she could still feel a telltale wetness dripping from her ears. Definitely not a hallucination. If she were to look in a mirror, she was sure that her face would be streaked with drying trails of blood.
She searched for that wall in her mind, but it was gone now. Damaged beyond repair. There were still a few runes inscribed on her arm, but not many. The flesh there looked cleaner than it had in weeks. The remaining lines of Faera were faded and unevenly spaced, and although she didn’t recognize all of the characters, she did notice one marking that she was sure hadn’t been there before. The symbol for arho—a spiral of evenly spaced dots—had been inscribed on the top of her right hand, and the flesh around the impossibly neat strokes of shadow magic was still red and healing.
All will be explained in due time, child, the voice whispered soothingly. For now, run. Go to the palace. I will meet you there when I am able.
Taly shuddered but kept running. Byron reared back when she approached but settled quickly when he heard the sound of her voice. He still seemed uneasy as she swung herself into the saddle but apparently grasped the urgency of the situation as he set off at a gallop through the trees, easily responding to the faintest press of her leg against his flank.
The sound of time restarting followed them—a thunderous explosion interlaced with screams of pain and rage cascading through the dense underbrush of the forest. The distant clamor bounced off the trees but sounded far enough away that Taly could be confident in her escape.
She had no idea what had just happened. Everything was a blur of confusion as she ducked out of the way of the leaves and branches that tore at her skin and clothing. The only thing she knew for certain was that, for better or worse, whatever was inside her had been set free, and she had been transformed—changed. But into what and to what end, she wasn’t quite sure.
Chapter 27
-A letter from Nissa Caeli of House Tira, High Lady of Air, to Atlas Venwraith of House Arendryl, High Lord of Water.
A note from the imperial scrivener: As per Her Imperial Majesty, the High Lady of Air’s request, this letter has been stricken from the official record.
The 8th day of the month Anon, during the 236th year of the Empty Throne
Atlas,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. Given our long-abiding friendship, Matriarch Bryer has asked me to deliver some most troubling news. It is with the utmost regret that I must inform you that both Breena and her daughter passed away last year. There was an accident during the child’s Attunement Ceremony, and she did not survive. I’m told Breena took her own life shortly afterward.
I know that we have not always seen eye-to-eye, especially as of late, but you have my deepest condolences. The others do not know what it is like to lose a Guardian—not in the way that we do. If there is anything that you need in the coming days, do not hesitate to ask. Even though our ability to correspond has become increasingly limited, please know that I am here for you, old friend, whenever you have need of me.
With my deepest sympathies and everlasting friendship,
Nissa
The chill of nightfall was just starting to set in, and it made Taly’s teeth chatter. Infinity’s Edge, the Time Queen’s abandoned seat of power, peeked through the thinning tree cover. The outline of the rusted iron gates was nothing but a shadow set against the bright backdrop of the second rising moon just visible over the next ridge.
Can’t stop yet, Taly thought, shaking off the lethargy that had seeped into her very bones. It took everything she had just to stay astride Byron, but thankfully, they were almost at the river now.
So far, she and Byron had encountered neither beast nor shade in their flight from Vale. Their progress had slowed as the underbrush of the forest thickened, but it was that same underbrush that had probably kept the shadow mage from pursuing them. She could smell the water now. The Arda, the river that bisected the island of Tempris, was close by. If they could just make it out of the forest, they could follow the river back to Infinity’s Edge. Mysterious voices aside, the palace’s old defense system could at least offer some measure of protection if Taly could figure out a way to jump-start it.
When they finally emerged from the tree line, Taly slid out of the saddle, her boots slipping on the smooth stones as she stumbled to the river’s edge. The dank smell of moss assaulted her senses as she eased herself to the ground and took several long frantic gulps of the sweetest water she had ever tasted. They had made it. Byron pawed at the water, sending sprays of icy droplets washing over her as he too took a much-needed respite.
When she finally pulled back, she splashed her face, scrubbing at the trails of dried, flaking blood until the liquid streaming through her fingers finally ran clear. She sat there for a moment, staring into the water and doing her best to ignore how each breath felt like fire inside her lungs.
Aether depletion, she thought, placing a hand on her chest. The shortness of breath, the unexplained fatigue—it was textbook aether depletion. Truthfully, Taly wasn’t sure why that particular revelation surprised her at this point.
The ripples of river water distorted her reflection, but as the image began to resolve itself, she couldn’t help but gape at the girl that stared back at her. Surely, it was a trick of the moonlight. Maybe some spell cast by that horrible mage?
Her eyes looked… strange in the river’s reflection. Too bright—almost silver. And had her cheeks hollowed out? Or was it perhaps the exaggerated arch of her eyebrows that made the sweep of her cheekbones seem so much more… pronounced?
“What happened?” she asked, pulling at the skin of her face—no longer tanned from the sun. As she patted down her body, she noted that her limbs felt thinner. No, not thinner exactly. Although her arms looked willowy, almost delicate, there was a strength that hadn’t been there before. She could feel it.
Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Well, not her eyes, but those strange, highborn eyes that could now
see farther and with more clarity than seemed natural? It was as though all her features had somehow been enhanced, transforming her into something too smooth, too fey to be considered completely human.
Shards, she… she was supposed to be human!
But… no. Taly swept back her hair to reveal the pointed arch of her ear. Not human. Not anymore at least. A deep pit opened up in her stomach as the realization slowly began to sink in.
Maybe she hadn’t ever really been human.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she tried to grapple with these revelations—hell, with everything that had just happened. She started when Byron nudged his nose against her cheek.
Not the time, he seemed to say.
Stupid horse. He was right. This wasn’t the time to give in to panic. She was beside a river in the middle of the night with an incensed shadow mage most likely pursuing her. No, what she needed to do was go meet this mystery voice whispering in her ear in the ruined remains of a long-abandoned palace. Because that seemed reasonable. That was what a perfectly sane person would do, right?
Stumbling to her feet, Taly pulled herself back into the saddle. Then, urging her horse forward, they continued upstream. Their progress along the bank of the river was slow and arduous. They were both tired, and Byron’s hooves kept slipping along the riverbank. She slumped in the saddle, her arms clinging to his neck when she was no longer strong enough to give commands.
Still, Byron continued forward—hearing her silent plea to keep moving. Even when he was a foal, he had always known exactly what she was trying to tell him. And why wouldn’t he? Hers had been the first face he’d seen. His birth had not been easy, and after everyone else had given up on him, even his mother, Taly had stayed beside him, night after night in that humid stable, refusing to let him cross over to the beryl-green fields of Moriah alone. He was hers, and she was his, and he kept moving forward, despite the foam that accumulated around his mouth and even after he had thrown a shoe.
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