Hein’s rider is different, she said, her voice hard and unyielding.His magic was shaped by prophecy. The others… they are not safe from what your blood carries.
My heart thundered as I relayed the message to Zander, each word heavy. “Kaelith says it’s too dangerous. It only worked onyou because… you’re different. The others aren’t safe from my power.”
Zander closed his eyes, jaw tightening. “Hein just told me the same thing,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why he had me summon you, then.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do.”
For a long moment, there was nothing.
And then Kaelith’s voice returned, quieter this time.Call on your power. But let me guide it. Let me control the flow.
Can you do that?I asked.
I must.
I glanced at Zander, who hadn’t looked away from his father once. His posture was rigid, but grief was etched into every angle of him, because no matter the truth of his blood, no matter the distance between them…
He still loved him.
He still needed to try.
I inhaled slowly, deeply, grounding myself despite the ache still clinging to my chest from the trial.
Do whatever you need to, I told Kaelith.
I will,she answered.
And then I stepped forward, knowing full well we were walking a line between salvation… and destruction.
Kaelith surged through me like a tidal wave behind glass, immense, controlled, terrifying in her precision.
I knelt beside the king’s bed, my fingers trembling as they brushed against the paper-thin skin of his wrist. His pulse was barely there, fluttering like a bird caught beneath ice. His face was sunken, lips tinged gray, as if the very essence of him had begun to decay.
Now, Kaelith whispered.Give it to me. Slowly.
I opened the gate.
My magic responded instantly, flaring in my veins like wildfire, but it didn’t spiral out of control. Kaelith caught it, molded it,shapedit, weaving it around the king like silk made of Stormlight. The violet threads of her power braided with mine, winding through his body in a quiet hum.
The air thickened with it.
Zander stood a step behind me, still and silent, watching with eyes that flickered between awe and fear.
The king’s chest rose—once, shallow but stronger. His color didn’t return, but the trembling in his fingers ceased. His body stilled, suspended in a breathless calm.
He was not healed.
But he was no longer dying.
Kaelith’s voice pressed into my mind again, solemn and grounding.
He is in stasis now. This will hold… for a time.
How long?I asked.
A moon. Maybe less. But it is not a cure. His soul is slipping. To save him…
Her voice darkened.
