Lyra tenses for half a second, then relaxes just enough. She flicks a small, grateful smile in his direction.
Rian mutters, scanning the wall behind us. “I didn’t see an exit . . . ”
Valen watches me, assessing. “I can create portals,” he says. “But only when there’s one rider for each Element wielding beside me. Amara, you don’t just wield four elements—you channel. I believe you can open one.”
His words knock the breath from my lungs. “What?”
He doesn’t flinch. “You healed Lyra.”
My heart stutters. “That was different,” I say quickly. “I didn’t—”
“You had no training,” Valen cuts in. “No knowledge. But you did it.” His tone isn’t pushing, just factual. Certain. “You felt something, and you just knew. You acted.”
My mouth goes dry. I didn’t know how to heal anyone. No understanding of the mechanics, the risks, the control.
And yet, holding Lyra in my arms, I knew. Not because I was taught. Because it was already in me.
But this—this is different.
“Valen, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
“Neither did you with Lyra.” His words hit clean and hard.
I shake my head, dread curling in my stomach. “Healing was different. That was—”
“Visceral.” Valen nods. “Instinctive. In your bones.”
I wasn’t thinking when I was healing Lyra. It just . . . came to me.
Valen steps closer, voice low—not challenging, but reminding. “We don’t actually know what your magics can do now.” The truth lingers—quiet, undeniable. Like a slow-burning fuse.
“You’re bonded to a dragon.” His eyes flick to me, unyielding. “And we haven’t had a chance to test the possibilities.”
The weight of it hits me all at once. I don’t know what I can do. None of us do. But if he’s right—if I could tear open a portal like he can, move all of us at once—then maybe, just maybe, we aren’t trapped here after all.
I glance at Thane. I’m already bracing for failure. This is impossible. It’s more than I’ve ever tried.
I don’t even know where to start.
But when I meet his gaze, his eyes are unwavering. Unshaken. A quiet confidence rooted in something deeper than logic. He believes in me. Even when I don’t.
He gives a small nod. Simple. Certain. Like he already knows I can do this.
I swallow, pulse flickering. I take a slow breath and turn back to Valen. “Tell me what to do.”
Valen studies me, voice calm. Measured. “We are here now.” He gestures to the chamber, to the towering shelves of books, to the dust and stone and the weight of history pressing in around us. “Envision two points in space—where we are and where you want to go.”
I nod. “Where I want to go.”
Valen nods. “It’s easier when you’ve already been there. So picture it—the escort in the forest, the dragons, the clearing.”
His words land like a whisper in my mind, stirring something low beneath my ribs.
I close my eyes. The escort. The forest, thick with towering trees, damp earth beneath my boots. The dragons, their massive forms shifting, their scales catching the light as they waited for us to return.
Calryx. She is there, just beyond my reach, just outside my grasp. I anchor to it—the scent, the sound, the feeling of belonging.
We are here. We need to be there.
