A hand landed on her shoulder. As if she’d summoned him, Lunara looked up to find Magnus standing above her.
“Thought you might be needing us about now, witchling,” he murmured.
“H-how?”
He smiled and sat beside her, allowing her to see everyone else filtering up from the stairs as he hiked a thumb at Amunkar. “Ask him.”
“It was the right time.” The First Imperial Son had a strange look as he gazed out over the city. “Itistime.”
Magnus shifted, his arm wrapping around her. “Besides, did you really think we’d let you do this without keeping an eye on you?”
One-by-one, Brand’s remaining brothers crowded in close as Amal guarded the stairs, Fern unseen beside her.
Vann knelt and laid a hand on her knee. “Brand would be right here, if he could be. We’ll do no less in his place, little sister.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“Ach, you’re the fiercest lass I’ve ever met.” Thad gripped his nape. “You’ll be fine, aye?”
He sounded about as sure as she felt.
Araxis threw his shoulders back, clearly uncomfortable with the sentiment thickening the air. “You are the rightful Keeper, and the stone will not harm you. Not once have your predecessors suffered ill effects in the beginning. The rest will come later, and we have time for that if or when it happens.Brand…” His jaw clenched. “Brand does not have time for you to be afraid.”
No. He didn’t.
“You’ll stay? You’ll be here when it’s done?”
Magnus gave her a little shake. “Aye, witchling. Right here.”
Looking at them, tucked in close and supporting her, gave her the strength to rise on trembling legs. They parted, clearing the path that would take her to the pedestal.
One foot in front of the other and she was suddenly there. Somehow, Illamiata didn’t seem quite so large anymore. Didn’t feel as daunting as she stretched her shaking fingers towards it.
For Brand.
As if from a great distance, she faintly heard Cordelia say, “Keep to the perimeter, Your Highnesses, and brace yourselves.”
Just before contact, Lunara heard the faintest laughter.
And then the world exploded.
So warm.So bright.
So empty.
Lunara couldn’t tell whether she was moving. Everything was white on white, as far as the eye could see. No ground. No horizon. No sky.
No way to tell how long she traveled, or gauge the time. It wasn’t until she saw a dark spot in the distance that she had a goal.
She ran, sprinting for that far-off thing until the details cleared and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Two rows of doors waited, angled slightly in to face her. Different shapes and sizes, different colors, nothing between or behind them.
Her steps were tentative as she walked between them, eyes darting. More than once, her feet stumbled when she recognized one of the panels, long lost memories jumping up to accompany the sight. They followed her life, aging with her, the recollectionsbecoming more and more recent. She nearly fell over when she reached one that was an exact replica of the carved double-doors in Lyriat’s great hall, a vision of Nyri’s laughing face as she showed her around flashing in disjointed stills.
That was all fine.
What surprised her most was the gilded door at the very end. Teeming with intricate designs, a massive, curving handle in its center, it was the one from her dreams. The one she was never allowed to pass through.
