The question sank like a stone into the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know how to answer it, and Bastian didn’t seem surprised by my silence.
He moved to face the line of practice dummies once more. “It’s a dangerous thing, to not know who you are.”
I couldn’t disagree.
“How do you know there isn’t a chance of his control returning at the worst possible time?” he asked.
“I don’t.”
I could sense the tension that roiled through his body, even from where I sat, but a resigned sigh soon followed it.
I got to my feet. “There is one thing Iamcertain of, though.”
He angled his face toward me.
“I would die before I let any harm come to her, from my hands or otherwise.”
He finally met my eyes, holding my gaze for a long moment before readying his sword once more, preparing for another assault against the practice dummies.
“For her sake,” he said, “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Four more days went by.
I saw little of Nova. She spent most of her time doing what she could to prepare Rivenholt for her potential absence, whether it was meeting with every noble that demanded it; visiting the rebuilding sites across the kingdom; or using her power to guide and shape the magic trickling over the land, trying to settle and soothe as many places as she could.
Every evening, she collapsed into my arms and fell asleep almost instantly, while I did my best to settle and sootheher.
Even with the warmth of my magic cocooning her, she rarely slept through the night.
I spent my days being as useful as I could elsewhere, which typically meant serving as an assistant to Eamon while he scoured the materials they’d collected from Midna. We compiled and cross-referenced stacks upon stacks of notes. Zayn helped, as well—though he only made it midway through the second day before threatening to hurl himself from the library window out of boredom. Eamon then ordered him to go be dramatic elsewhere, and we carried on without him.
The mark of the Void Order kept showing up, seemingly everywhere we looked. Most notably, we came across it on a tattered letter, stamped into a corner in ink the color of blood. The contents of the letter were innocuous enough, with no actual reference to the order aside from its symbol…
But it was signedArgoth.
As in, King Argoth.
My distant ancestor, and the Soltarisian ruler who had, according to legend, come between Lorien and Calista.
I puzzled over the connection between it all, but Eamon didn’t seem to want to linger on the subject. I thought of the way Bastian had averted his eyes when we’d discussed that mark the other morning, and I wondered, again, if there was something I wasn’t being told—some theory they weren’t sharing with me.
I could only guess at most of it.
But one thing Iwascertain of was that everything continued to point to an inevitable trip to the Above.
So, as soon as morning dawned on the fifth day, we began to pack. By that evening, our small company was prepared to leave. Zayn and Thalia would be joining us, along with a group of soldiers who would see us to the edge of Rivenholt’s revivedterritory, where we planned to set up camp before continuing on to our next destination.
That destination was the Nocturnus Road—the same path Nova had taken when she’d first descended into this realm months ago. She had grown skilled in her ability to move herself and others freely between the middle-realm and this one, but traveling all the way back to the Above was another challenge entirely. The established road would be safer. Easier on her. And while there were other alleged pathways between Noctaris and Soltaris, we opted for this one because it was familiar, and because it would bring us as close as possible to our ultimate target of Rose Point.
We gathered by the stables once the sun began to set, saying goodbyes and rehashing our plans one final time. It would be two days of hard riding to reach Nocturnus, through lands caught between death and revival that would be, at best, unpredictable.
Bastian and Thalia stood alone off to the side, deep in conversation. Nova walked through the ranks of our accompanying soldiers, giving final orders. Phantom trotted closely at her heels, shifted into his usual dog form; he seemed very pleased with himself—likely because he’d talked Nova into letting him come along on this mission.
Zayn had just finished adjusting the tack on one of the massive scourge stallions we’d be riding. His eyes lingered on the beast even as he made his way over to me; their powerful, monstrous appearances were hard to look away from.
“It’s going to be strange, being back in the Above after all these years,” he said, gaze drifting upward as he approached. “But I’m looking forward to feeling a warmer, brighter sun on my face again. You know, without the whole someone-else-inside-of-my-skin thing.”
“I’d be more enthusiastic if we had any idea of what actually awaited us underneath that brighter, warmer sun.”
