I am the anchor of Letum. I am Queen of Dreams.
And what is truer, or more desperate, than a dream?
“Willa, no!” Sam shouts, but it’s far too late.
I throw my head back, and dive into the magic simmering beneath my skin. With a harrowing cry, I yank it from my chest, pouring it into the air around me. Sam lunges for Adira, throwing her to the ground, shielding her with his body as screams of shock and terror begin anew. People collapse where they stand, covering their eyes, as the air around Niko and I begin to burn with magic. The endless possibility is too much to gaze upon without being consumed; its power too bright to bear.
My body thrums with energy, and my veins sizzle. The pressure of it is agonizing, and my bones creak beneath the weight of time and space. Gritting my teeth, I thrust my arms into the heart of the shimmering starlight and begin to paint.
“Willa, stop!” Tiernan’s shout is distant as he lunges for me. A cry of pain escapes him as his body cracks uselessly against the thick cage of magic I’ve shrouded myself in, and my heart pulls as I realize it has burned his skin.
But Tiernan—kind, funny, loyal, Tiernan—doesn’t stop trying. Not for Niko, I realize, but to protectme.I wish I could tell him what it means; how the moment will be etched into my soul for centuries to come.
“Willa, there will be a cost!” he shouts desperately, slicing at the shimmering shield with his sword. “There’s always a cost!”
You’re no hero, Willa. You have the heart of a villain.
Niko was right. Because for villains like me, carved into jagged edges by the world until the only choice left to us was to wield the weapon created, the cost isnevertoo high.
I siphon the lifeblood of the island, draining the heart of it until all that’s left is barren sand. Wild power flows through my veins, addictive nectar pulsating through me with dizzying intensity. My throat grows dry, and my muscles burn as pieces of myself slip away entirely, replaced by the ancient power of dreams. Of nightmares and hope.
More and more of the island floods into me, and I push it outward. My fingers tremble as I paint, using every color—those I’ve never even imagined—to create my vision. Not a place or a person.
I paint time.
I erase harsh lines and remake them as something softer. I smudge shapes and darken shadows. I blend colors, millions of them, until everything around us begins to glow, and I think I’ll burn alive with the power coursing through me. My nerves crackle, as light and magic spill through my skin. Every breath stokes the embers in my lungs, scorching my chest as the wild magic of the island expands. In me, around me. In the rush of my blood, and the marrow of my bones.
You are mine.The words resonate through me, and I don’t know whether they’re mine or the island’s.You are mine, and I will never let you go.
Mine, mine, mine.
I’d felt it in every one of Niko’s touches, in every one of his movements inside me. Burrowed too deeply for the universe to ever erase, etched into our fucking bones.Mine.I carve it into the painting, glaze it with power, set it with blood. Until it is as permanent and enduring as the universe itself.
Black edges my vision as I add one last stroke of color. And then, with a manic peal of laughter, I let everything go.
The starlight explodes.
A force of light and sound and time so deafening, for a moment, I’m sure I’ve incinerated existence itself.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I’m blasted backward, hitting the ground with a pained gasp and throwing my hands over my ears to shield them from the surge of noise. It is the opposite of silence; a sound that floods my ears, presses into my chest, dives into my belly.
There is no sky—noworld—around me. Only infinite color that will incinerate me where I lay, face pressed into my knees.
And I deserve it for meddling with things I have no right to touch. But even if I’m entirely consumed, even if I take the universe and its millions of worlds with me—I won’t ever regret it.
Then, the roar of magic subsides and the air around me settles. Like the world tilted from its axis for only a moment, and has now tipped back where it belongs.
For a moment, there is only the horrible sound of my own heartbeat.Tick, tick, tick.A taunt, a curse—that even if I dabble in the darkest parts of the universe, if I erase every other human from existence, my heart will stubbornly beat on.
A relieved breath fills my lungs when I hear the distant warble of a bird. The angered roar of a creature in the forest, and the soft rustle of branches above it. And then, the sounds of cheering. Of happiness and victory.
When I dare to open my eyes, it’s to find everyone rushing toward me. Silva Lucai, pixies, and outcasts of Caelum, alike. Tears of gratitude pour down their faces, words of respect and awe andlove.My heart still halfway between dreams and reality—lost in the space between human and celestial—I peer past the crowds, and watch as the hundreds of people slain by the Strayed, rise to their feet.
Whole. Healthy.Alive.
Somehow, the girl who never wanted to be a hero became the queen who saved her kingdom.
It’s what I dreamed all those years ago, when I was terrified and alone and hurting. A way to end the agony, the loneliness, the desolation. A way to staunch the invisible wounds inside us all, the ones that consume and isolate us. The ones that destroyed Celie and so many others.
