‘Arden,’ I say again.
Her laugh fades as she fixes me with those flaming amber eyes. ‘No, ’fraid not.’
Heaviness settles in my core. ‘Who are you, then?’
She doesn’t answer.
‘Who are you?’ I shout, louder this time.
She steps closer. The spiced smoky scent which trailed me in Talini presses thick around me as she slips something inside my pocket. ‘Sister’s teats, now there’s a loaded question. But don’t fret,’ she says, still holding my gaze. ‘You’ll know me soon enough. Mine is a sad tale, and we haven’t the time to do it justice.’ She winks. ‘Look to your pocket for answers. Though I warn you, you’re not going to like them. Not one flaming bit. If you thought Noelani played you for a fool over the night-birds, hold on tight, Princess. It’s just the tip of the iceberg.’ Again, she laughs that sharp, cruel laugh. ‘But look.’ She motions to my corpse. Brands shimmer on both her wrists – Wave and Flame. Twice-Touched? No, it’s not possible…
My corpse starts to twitch, drawing my attention away. I watch as my eyes crack open. Only they’re not my eyes. They burn a deeper, eerily familiar shade. The purple of a ripening bruise.
‘Time for you to go back,’ she says. ‘But this isn’t goodbye. We’ve unfinished business.’
Before I can ask what she’s talking about, there’s a tug deep in my centre, and I’m being pulled back inside myself, like a moon being dragged back into orbit.
No. Not before I understand who she is, why she’s tormenting me.
‘Who are you?’ I scream. But she only smiles and melts into the shadows.
And then I’m back. Back in my body.
Only it’s not my body anymore – it’s something different. Colder. Harder. A thing more of ice than flesh and bone.
As I stare up at the worried faces ringing me like the wilted petals of a dying flower, a single thought clamours to be shared.
‘I know,’ I rasp. ‘I know where the next sceptre is.’
The Starlight Staff is heavier than I expected. I tighten my fingers around it, checking this isn’t a dream, but unfamiliar strength flows through my hands, and I hurriedly loosen my grip, lest it snaps. My hands feel different. I feel different – a changeling.
A changeling in possession of both Sister-Stones.
A smile tugs at my lips. I can save my mother. I stand and the others scatter like snowflakes in a blizzard.
Blayze turns to face me. He’s still hunched over what remains of Serafine, his eyes desperate as they implore me.
My smile withers. I can only spare one of them, and I’ve already sworn to save the emberwing.
The stench of burnt feathers swirls the cave. Serafine’s eyes, usually so shrewd and piercing, are soft and glassy, and her chest rattles with each shuddering, shallow inhalation. She’s on the brink – on the point of crossing the Veil. If I’m to save her, if I’m to keep my word, it must be now.
I take a breath, the words ready on the tip of my tongue.
But then I remember that last vision of my mother’s face, wasted and wracked, and that icy callous spreads, hardening my heart, sharpening my resolve. The reasons for choosing to save Serafine feel suddenly far away and unimportant.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, redoubling my grip on the Starlight Staff.
Blayze’s eyes bulge. Hurt, then rage, hurtles across his savaged face. One arm still cradling Serafine, he reaches for me, tries to wrest the sceptre away. But it’s too late.
The starstones at my throat and in my hand flare as I make my wish silently, repeating it over and over again in my head. The chill shimmer of magic sweeps through this strange new body that’s both mine and not mine. Blood rushes to my head and I sink to my knees.
And as the starstones dim, something sparks in my consciousness – a taper catching light.
I shut my eyes and moan. My brandsong purrs in agreement, confirming what I already know.
She’s safe. She’ll live.
But my joy is shallow. She’ll live, but at what cost?
