And then Theron.
Smiling.
Not the amused smirk he wore so easily, but something sharper, triumphant.
The flames flared violently, and I cried out as invisible hands seemed to seize me, holding me upright while the force of it tore through every last doubt and hesitation I possessed. I thought I heard Aster shout my name, felt the echo of movement beyond the fire, but it all blurred together as the pressure reached a breaking point.
Then it all stopped.
The flames vanished in a rush of smoke, the heat ripped away so suddenly that bitter cold rushed in to replace it. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the stone floor, my palms scraping against the grit as I struggled to breathe. My whole body now trembling violently.
For a long, terrible second, I couldn’t bring myself to move.
Then it hit me.
I was still alive.
A hand reached for me, fingers closing around mine as Theron hauled me effortlessly back to my feet. The world swayed, my legs threatening to give again as relief crashed through me so hard it left me dizzy.
“Well done.”
I looked up at Theron, my vision swimming, searching his face for anger, for disappointment, for anything that would tell me I had failed. Instead, what I found was something far more unsettling.
Respect.
“Horkos has spoken,” Theron continued, his voice carrying easily through the garden. “God of oaths and judgment. He has weighed your truth and found it whole. Your word stands.”
My breath left me in a shaky rush.
Behind the stones, something massive shifted. A groan sounded, followed by a low, furious huff, and I spun just in time to see enormous stone serpents sliding away from Aster’s form, their heavy bodies retreating into shadow as they released him.Theron’s power must have been restraining him this whole time to stop him from reaching me.
“Aster,”I gasped, stumbling toward him.
“I’m here,” he growled, though his voice cracked with relief as I threw my arms around him. He crushed me briefly against his chest, holding on as if afraid I might disappear if he let go, before pulling back to search my face.
“You’re all right,” he said, more to himself than to me.
“I am,”I whispered, still shaking. “I really am.”
Theron stepped closer once more, his attention fixed on me.
“You have earned the Weaver’s Torch,” he said formally.
The words sent a surge of relief through me so powerful my knees nearly gave again.
“Then you’ll give it to us now,” I asked, straightening, my voice sharpened with exhaustion and lingering fear. “We need to leave as soon as possible.”
He turned without answering, already walking away from the circle.
“Come.”
I followed immediately, frustration flaring hot in my chest as we moved back toward the fortress.
“You said I earned it,” I pressed. “Are you going to give me the torch now or not?”
“It is not here,” he replied with a flick of his wrist and a shrug of his shoulder.
I stopped short.
