I hesitate in the doorway, my limbs suddenly feeling far too light for my body as an icy breeze nips viciously at slips of my exposed skin. Niko steps out into the night air, pulling me gently after him. When he finally looks at me, his expression only heightens my dizziness.
Pure, undiluted anguish.
I tense, my fingers slipping from his. “Niko, what is this?” I ask warily, eyeing the ornately carved stone railings lining the circular tower.
“Look,” he insists, the words sorrowful. He steps behind me, crowding me with his body against the railing even as I try to step back toward the safety of the stairs. “Please, Willa. Trust me.”
It’s a ridiculous thing to ask of a woman standing on the edge of precipice; a woman who’s been burned by the fall.
But the truth is, Idotrust Niko, and it’s never been a decision so much as an instinct. Something woven into the marrow of my bones, carved into my lungs. I step toward the edge of the turret, gripping two of the decorative spires in my hands, as I lean forward.
Adytum, adytum.
My palms sweat, and panic threatens to send me toppling over as I gaze down at the sprawl of Letum so far below. But then Niko is there, the solidity of his chest grounding me as his death envelops the space around us. I relax into the dark relief of it, and after a few moments, my breathing calms enough to appreciate the stunning landscape.
I can see everything from here—the lights of Caelum glowing against the shadowed ships trapped in the harbor. The dark sprawl of the forest and the mountains beyond, their violet peaks illuminated by the soft lights of the Grove.
The sparkling black sands of the beach and the glittering water of the lagoon. In the distance, a group of sirens loungeon a cliffside, their opalescent tails shimmering in the starlight. And beyond them, the sea rages, white-capped waves crashing against the island cliffs.
I feel the beauty of it in the place behind my heart where my magic shimmers. The palette of colors awakens, immeasurable and infinite, and for a moment, I see Letum as it once was—not a land of carrion and death, but a land of dreams.
Niko’s hands slip beneath the cloak, his bare fingers gently grazing over my skin.
I lean into his touch with a shiver, the feel of him unleashing an acute ache beneath my ribs. His fingers trail over my throat, and then hook gently beneath my chin to lift my gaze from the jagged shadows of the Crocodile to the swirling sky above. Deep violets and midnight blues crash together in wild splashes, the astral colors so vibrant against the fathomless dark of the sky.
And at the center of it all, the star that brought me to Letum. That drew me from a colorless life and threw me into a world of violence and dreams. Of blurred edges and vivid strokes.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper to the sky, as Niko nuzzles into the juncture of my throat and inhales sharply. Like he doesn’t need oxygen to sustain him. Only me.
“You’re beautiful,” he replies so softly, the words are hardly more than a murmur. “You have been my only breath of life in centuries of death. You’ve left me forever undone. No matter the rush of dreams or sprawl of the stars or the span of time, I will always be on my knees in benediction and gratitude…to you, Willa.”
His words send a thrill of warmth shooting through the center of me, electrifying every dark recess of my soul until I am awake. There is no more numbness, no more indifference. I feeleverything with such intensity, for a moment, I can’t speak around it.
Niko steps away, pressing himself against the stone castle, putting as much space between us as the small turret allows. The absence of him—of his relief and ice and warmth—is nearly as dizzying as the height, but when I try to go to him, he merely shakes his head and points back to the second star.
“Look, Darling.”
“I see it,” I reply, uncertainty and irritation rising in tandem. The star is as beautiful as it was in my world the night it called me to the top of the roof, but I don’t want to look at it now. I want to look at Niko, and I want him to look at me back. I want to lose myself in him and forget about the star and the Strayed and the way he’s unmoored me—I only want to rememberus.
“Don’t just see,” Niko murmurs. So earnestly, I do as he asks and turn back to the sky. His gaze is heavy on my skin as I examine the star, his eyes filled with a desperate longing he won’t let me see.
You don’t have to want,I think.I’m right here. I’m yours. Adytum.
“Don’t just look, Willa,feel. Reach for it with your heart. With your magic.”
Niko’s voice is a silky caress of night, and I try to do as he asks.
“Feel the scorching heat. The deathly cold.”
His power. Mine. Both tangled together in the ethereal light.
I shiver as the soft thought rolls over me. As starlight spills over my skin, through my veins. As my magic rises from its pool behind my heart in answer, and collides with the star’s power, lashing through me until I’m breathless and wanting.
An aching want. For something endless. Reaching for the edges of possibility and finding none.
It batters against my heart and lungs; it crashes against my bones. And when I’m entirely full and my skin is stretched to the limit, the shimmering, ethereal light spills from me. From myeyes and mouth and fingers. It pools in my hair, and trails over my lips until I am nothing but dreams and starlight.
The power unfurls around me, reaching for the sky, as the second star calls it home. Fractals of every color imaginable, framed by the fathomless dark of the night. Hot and cold. Void and creation.
