“Go,”the Way Weaver gasped, her voice warping as the torch shook violently in her grasp. “The way will not hold long.”
The portal hummed, the sound crawling up my spine. I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, the rhythm of it thrumming through me, the light burning against my eyelids as goosebumps rippled across my skin.
Too familiar.
Aster’s hand clamped around my arm, yanking me back with a yelp.
“Alex. Whatever happens, don’t let go!”
I nodded, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Then came the sound of breaking glass.
Light surged, the archway fracturing as it revealed another sky beyond it. Dawn was breaking there too, pale gold bleeding across the horizon, and for a fleeting second, I could see it clearly.
The Capitol.
The archway cracked violently, the ground beneath us splitting. The Way Weaver sagged fully into Aster’s hold, breath shallow, head lolling as the spirits bound to her broke away one by one, vanishing back into the torch.
“Go now,” she whispered. “Before it is too late.”
I didn’t move.
My feet felt rooted to the ground, as though the same force holding the archway open had turned inward, gripping me just as tightly. The Way Weaver sagged in Aster’s arms, her breath shallow, her body trembling under the strain, and a cold knot of guilt twisted violently in my chest.
This was my fault.
If she fell, if she burned out from the effort of holding the way open, it would be because of us. Because of me and the Rift that had never truly let me go. The thought lodged sharp and painful beneath my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs.
“We can’t just leave her,”I whispered, my voice barely a sound. “What if she…?” Her silver eyes found mine then, shockingly clear despite the light pouring through her veins. There was no fear in them, no regret, only a fierce, unwavering resolve that stopped me cold.
This is what I chose, theyseemed to say.
Aster tightened his grip on my hand, his voice urgent now.
“Alex. Look at her.”
I did, really did, and something changed within me. This wasn’t a sacrifice born of desperation. This was duty, willingly shouldered, the same kind of choice Theron had made, the same kind Atlas was fighting for even now.
The Way Weaver’s lips curved faintly, just enough to be a smile. She gave the smallest nod.
Go.
My throat burned as I nodded back.
“Thank you,”I breathed, not knowing if she could hear me.
Aster didn’t give me time to reconsider. He let go of the Way Weaver, handing her care to his aunt, who urged him to go. Then he took hold of me and pulled, hard enough that I stumbled forward, the scream of the portal rising around us as the world began to tear itself apart.
The instant we crossed the threshold, the light collapsed inward, snuffed out like a dying flame. Silence swallowed everything.
For one blinding moment, sensation overwhelmed me. Heat. Rushing air. The solid presence of Aster beside me. Then nothing but darkness.
I stumbled, lungs burning, heart racing, and forced myself to turn back.
The path was gone.
The Weaver, Stava, the torch, all of it swallowed by the void.
