Something was happening to the platform. I was vaguely aware of it—flowers blooming beneath me, roots cracking through ancient mushroom flesh. The crew was shouting. Or were they? Sound was strange now. Everything was strange except the connection, the perfect, terrible connection—
“ENOUGH.”
Kaelren’s hand clamped down on my wrist, his corruption flooding my marks with cold silver-black light, severing the connection like an axe through roots. The vision shattered. The Sage stumbled back, and I fell to my knees, gasping, shaking, my human lungs suddenly remembering they needed air.
“Fascinating,” the Sage said, looking at their fingers, which were now traced with golden lines that matched my marks. “She’s not just marked. She’s becoming.”
“Becoming what?” Kaelren demanded.
“Something new. Something that hasn’t existed since the first growth.” The Sage looked at me with something like pity. “You poor child. You have no idea what you’re carrying.”
“Then tell me,” I managed, getting shakily to my feet.
“I cannot. The knowledge must come from within, or it will destroy you.” They turned to Kaelren. “You know this. You’ve felt it through your—connection.”
“We’re not connected,” Kaelren said quickly, too quickly.
The Sage laughed, a sound like trees falling. “Lie to yourself if you must, but don’t lie to me. Your marks call to hers. Hers answer. Whether you admit it or not changes nothing.”
“Can you help her or not?” Kaelren’s voice was sharp, dangerous.
“I can teach her to not die immediately. Whether that’s helping is debatable.” The Sage turned back to me. “You have perhaps days before the marks consume you entirely. Unless you learn control.”
“Days?” I felt cold despite the warm air. “What happens after days?”
“You become something else. Something that might save this realm or destroy it.” They smiled, and it was terrible. “No pressure.”
“Oh good, no pressure. Just the fate of an entire realm. That’s totally manageable.”
“Sarcasm,” the Sage observed. “How wonderfully human. Try to hold onto that. You’ll need something to anchor you when the power tries to take your mind.”
“Again, not reassuring.”
“Reassurance is for those with hope. You have something better.”
“What?”
“Inevitability.” They turned and began walking toward the tree. “Come. We have work to do, and not much time to do it.”
I looked at Kaelren, who was watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, but I could tell he was lying. Something about what the Sage had said bothered him. The connection, maybe. Or the fact that I had days, not weeks or months.
“Look,” I said, “about this connection thing—”
“There is no connection,” he cut me off. “The Sage iswrong. Whatever you think you feel, it’s just proximity. Nothing more.”
“I didn’t say I felt anything.”
“Good. Because you don’t. And neither do I.”
He turned and followed the Sage, leaving me standing there feeling oddly rejected, which was stupid because I didn’t want a connection with him anyway. He was angry and bitter and had literally threatened to kill me multiple times.
But still.
“He’s lying,” Peeble said, appearing on my shoulder. “About the connection. He feels it. It terrifies him.”
