Auriel nodded. “If you choose, then yes. Imagine if you will, Lyriana at two years old, and Lyriana at seven, at twelve, sixteen … The younger versions of you never died. But none of them exist now. They’re all here—inside of you.” He gestured to my chest. “In the celestial realms, the other versions can step out of your body, and exist separately on their own. Rhyan would be me, and not me. But he’d be home. Back in Heaven. And he’s not. If there’s one thing I’m more aware of than of Asherah, it’s all of my lives, all of my incarnations and all of the souls that are born of them. I know them all well. But Rhyan and I, we were close, and yet, I could not sense him at all. That’s how I know he’s akadim. Which means his soul went somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else?”
Auriel swallowed roughly. “Somewhere else.”
“Where?” This was the first time I’d ever heard discussion of souls going somewhere after being eaten. Of them not being simply destroyed as I’d always been taught. The idea that Rhyan was just somewhere else, lost, away from me—it wasn’t comforting, but it was maybe better than the idea of him being destroyed, having been eaten, and not existing at all.
Light began to fill the horizon. Sunrise was here, the sky was full of red, golden light. The rain softened, the drops growing sparser. It was letting up, the storm ending. Suddenly, the first warm glow of morning sun was shining across Gryphon Island, illuminating the rain.
“Lyriana, I think that—” Auriel froze. His eyes met mine, moving back and forth, his mouth falling open. “By the realms.” His voice filled with awe. “Your hair. Lyriana, your hair.”
I glanced down. It was soaking wet, plastered to my armor. Under the sunlight bursting through the drizzle, it was bright, fiery red. Batavia red.
But at that moment, I saw what Auriel did.
Asherah’s red.
“You,” he gasped. “You look just like her, like my love. You look just like yourself.” He reached his hand forward, taking a lock between his fingers, examining it with reverence. “Alive.”
I remained still, my heart pounding. Something was happening to me. Something was shifting inside. I wasrememberingAuriel. Remembering more than a flash of him on a beach, remembering more than just feeling a kind of reverence for his name.
I was remembering that I loved him. And just like he’d explained, that every incarnation made from his soul, expanded him, I felt like my heart was expanding, too. With love.
Auriel wasn’t Rhyan. He just wasn’t. But … every second I spent with him, he felt more familiar to me. More …mine, in a way I couldn’t explain. Our souls were tethered together, and though I didn’t remember most of our history, or even our other lifetimes together, I could feel the weight of it all on my heart. I could feel our connection to each other like it was a living, breathing thing. Like our souls had always been in conversation, always seeking the other. That’s what happened to me and Rhyan. We’d been kids, and drawn to each other even then, never understanding why.
My heart pounded. My body felt lighter.
And at last, the rain stopped.
Auriel released my hair, both of us breathing heavily. And then his fingers, callused and scarred like the rest of his hand, closed around the edge of my chest plate.
“You especially look like her, like yourself, wearing this.” Auriel released a shaky breath.
Asherah’s armor was made up of connecting golden Valalumir stars. What appeared to be diamonds mixed with starfire in the center of each star, was blood.
“By the realms.” His eyes widened, filling with tears, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he stepped back again, both hands fisted. “That’s not a replica. That’s the original. Hers.” He exhaled sharply. “I can feel her energy still attached to it. Sense her blood inside, mixed with mine.”
“And my blood, too. It’s how I’ve been calling on her. Calling onRakashonim.”
He reached for my chest plate again, his knuckles suddenly whitening as he gripped the edges, shaking it. “He gave this to you. Didn’t he?” His eyes darkened. “Mercurial.”
I nodded slowly. “He made sure it was put in front of me on my birthday. And then he made sure I wore it.”
Auriel hissed. “That traitorous, two-faced, falcon-headed bastard!”
I blinked, surprised at how quickly his anger had flared.
Auriel’s gaze was distant, his eyes watering as he looked away. “I … I buried her with this. Or I thought I had. I did everything I could to make it impossible to unseal her tomb. Impossible to disturb her, or … the shard she guarded within. Not without being told the secret by me. Without being told where the lock was. The answer to opening it was written in stone that could only be read in moonlight.”
The sun revealed my secrets, so I hid them with the moon.
“And the items needed—those were also supposed to be impossible to come by. A key I’d crafted with my own magic andkept on my person. Then there was my soul—which I knew was likely to return. And at last, my blood, which I thought was safe. But, Mercurial deceived me. He’d kept her chest plate. And now, Asherah’s tomb has been opened.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I’d seen how Rhyan had been affected by it. How upset it had made him. Because he remembered. Because he was Auriel. And then even after that night, he’d dreamed about it. He’d had nightmares for weeks. Reliving Asherah’s death—my death. “We had to.”
“I know you did.” He sighed heavily, looking defeated. “When my own time came to an end, I designed my tomb in such a way, no one would ever disturb it. I knew I had to find the means to keep what I stored inside safe.”
“Your tomb?” I blinked, and my throat tightened. “Auriel, where is it?”
