"You heard?" Arion asked.
"Everyone heard. Drak celebrations echo, and profound revelations carry." Thaine's expression was grim. "Are you really one being split in two?"
Eliam and Arion exchanged glances.
"It seems so," Arion said finally.
"Well," Karse said after a moment of stunned silence, "that explains the sexual tension."
"This is serious," Thaine snapped. "If Malus knows this, if he planned this—"
"He knows," Briar interrupted. "His ritual backfired when Eliam put the piece of his essence inside of me. It caused him to split instead of stripping his powers."
"Then we're walking into a trap," Halian said, speaking for the first time. His voice was hoarse. "Going to the seal is exactly what he wants."
"Not going means the seal breaks anyway," Thaine pointed out. "It's already failing. You've seen the corruption spreading."
"So we're trapped either way," Sian summarized.
"Not trapped," Eliam said. "Challenged. Malus expects us to come. Fine. But he doesn't know we know about the fracture. That's an advantage."
"A small one," Karse noted. "Against someone who's had centuries to plan."
They were still arguing when Veroc arrived with the other Drak warriors, all armed and armored for travel. The morning light caught on their scaled armor, each piece overlapping like natural protection, purple and black in the shadows. The warriors moved with predatory grace despite the weight of their gear, their reptilian eyes scanning the gathering with professional assessment.
"The morning grows late," Veroc said, his ancient voice carrying the rumble of distant thunder. "If you're going to reach the seal's border by nightfall, we need to leave now."
There was a flurry of final preparations. Supplies were distributed from woven packs that looked deceptively small for what they contained. Weapons were checked with the careful attention of those who knew their lives would depend on them and armor wasadjusted with practiced hands tightening straps and checking joints.
Briar found herself being handed a set of lighter traveling clothes by a young Drak female whose scales still held the brighter purple of youth.
"For the journey," the girl said shyly, her inner eyelids flickering nervously. "The ceremonial garb is not meant for travel."
Briar thanked her and changed quickly. The new garments were practical—soft leather that had been worked until it was supple as cloth, reinforced at the knees and elbows, with a dark tunic that would blend into forest shadows. The boots laced up to mid-calf, sturdy enough for rough terrain but flexible enough to run if needed.
When she emerged, she found Eliam waiting for her. He held out the star metal pendant, the chain catching the light like captured moonbeams, and she slipped it over her head. The weight of it settled against her chest, cold at first, then warming to her skin.
"Stay close when we travel," he said quietly. "The corruption will get worse as we approach the seal."
"I know."
He studied her face, something unreadable in his expression. "About last night—"
"We don't have to talk about it."
"We do." His hand rose to cup her face, thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Everything's different now. What we know, what we are to each other—"
"Eliam."
"I won't lose you." The words came out fierce, possessive. "Whatever happens at the seal, whatever Malus has planned, I won’t let anything happen to you."
She wanted to point out that he might not have a choice, that if reunification happened, if Arion ceased to exist as a separate being, everything would change in ways none of them could predict. But Veroc was calling for them to move out, and there was no time for that conversation.
They left the Drak settlement as the sun reached its peak, their escort leading them back into the corrupted wilderness. Behind them, the safe haven of the settlement disappeared into the twisted trees, and ahead lay only uncertainty and the growing wrongness of lands touched by failing magic.
The seal waited, and with it, whatever trap Malus had set for them all.
The forest changed gradually at first.
