Auriel was luminous then, like the light I’d used from the Valalumir to heal his body had become a part of him, shining through his limbs. In that moment it was as if the Red Ray had been stored inside of his heart—not mine.
“Truly. There’s a way,” he said.
I lifted my hands, looking back and forth between them and Auriel—his form now fully healed. “How? Is it withRakashonim?”
He shook his head, his eyes wide. “No. Not withRakashonim.That’s powerful. And maybe the thing that could come the closest. But it’s only because of what you’re drawing upon. The Red Ray of the Valalumir. With it, you can wield unfathomable levels of power. And you can heal with it—like you’ve done before. Like you did just now. But to restore a life to someone who’s been turned akadim, to call their soul back to their body, to heal and restore it?” He sighed. “Calling onRakashonimalone—it would kill you. And it wouldn’t work. The cure requires more.”
“More how?” I asked. “Tell me what I have to do. Tell me everything.”
Auriel frowned, his blond eyebrows knitting together. “What do you remember about the creation of the Valalumir?” he asked.
“The light itself?” I said, frowning. “Created by the God Canturiel?” I shook my head. “I can tell you what I know about it—if that’s what you mean. But, if you’re asking if I remember its creation as Asherah, I can’t. I don’t have any actual memories of that time—or even being a full-fledged Guardian. I don’t remember Heaven. Or being a Goddess. None of those memories have come back to me. Not in full.” I looked away. “So far my memories as Asherah have been sparse. Glimpses of my life down here—like seeing Auriel—I mean,” I bit my lip, “seeing you, on the beach before the Drowning. And then again in battle.”
“That’s okay,” he nodded. “But to do this right, you’re going to need to understand everything I’m about to tell you. Especially because I’m afraid with my current mortality, I’ll forget again.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“What exactly do you know of the light’s creation?” he asked.
“Only what I’ve read in the Valya.”
Auriel’s eyes widened. “The Valya. Yes—the Valya. Wait—” He grabbed my arm. “There was more than one translation that survived. Right? Which scroll did you read?”
“Well, there’s two main ones,” I said, unsure where he was going with all of this. “The Mar Valya which was discovered right after the Drowning became the standard for translations and copies. That’s the most common. But then there’s the Tavia Valya, found a hundred years later, preserved in a chest. I’ve read both.”
“So,” Rhyan said, “tell me your best academic observations of the translation debate.”
I sat up. “Are you serious?”
“After you guiled me into an art history lesson, you still think I have no interests outside of push ups and punching people?”
“No. I … I just never knew anyone else who cared about the debate.”
“Now you do. So tell me.”
I blinked, looking back at Auriel.
His throat bobbed. “The Mar Valya was missing an M, wasn’t it? Changing the meaning ofAuriel janam Asherahdiam.”
“Auriel knew Asherah as two,” I said, my voice hushed.
“I recognized you the first moment I saw you,” he said, his voice flooded with emotion. “The Valalumir was the brightest, most powerful light to ever be created, and it dimmed in your presence. I still remember like yesterday. Remember seeing you. Remember the way that you brightened the room. Remember the way my heart had beat faster. The way I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Before I knew your body, I knew you. I remembered that our soul was in two. But once, it was whole. And I knew what you were to me that first instant. More than a thousand years ago in the Hall of Records. Once I saw you,no oath I swore mattered. No duty. Because you and I were something far greater. We weremekarim.”
“Soulmates,” I said.
Auriel’s face tightened, his eyes watering. “Mekara.”My soul is yours.
“Rakame,”I answered.Your soul is mine.
For him, she’s brighter than the brightest star in Heaven.That’s what Rhyan had told me that night in the Temple, describing the way Auriel had fallen in love with Asherah. My heart thudded.
“Both Valya translations, however,” Auriel said, “are incomplete. They’re missing part of the story. The Mar Valya and the Tavia weren’t the first to arrive on these shores. There was another—one that was whole. One that contained the truth. I would know. Because I wrote it. Auriel’s Valya.”
“Auriel’s Valya?” I practically yelled.
His eyebrows drew together, as he nodded. “In the scroll, I told the truth about the light. About its creation. It wasn’t a burst of inspiration like they’ve told you. The light wasn’t just some idea that Canturiel sang into existence one day. It had a purpose, a design. Only that knowledge was lost. Because every copy of my Valya was destroyed before my death. Every copy except for one. The one I buried inside my tomb.”
“On Gryphon Island? There’s a copy of your Valya?” My eyes widened. “With the cure for akadim inside it?”
