"Thane," she said, reaching out to take the hand I had left hovering. She pulled my palm against her cheek. Her skin was soft, cool now, the fever of the magic receding slightly. "I want to do it. I want to bind with you. With all of you. But I’m terrified I’ll disappear."
"You won't," I vowed, the earth magic in my blood responding to the promise, making the stone beneath our feet vibrate. "I will be the anchor. When the Dragon tries to burn you, I will be the hearth. When the Wolf tries to run you down, I will be the den. When the Phoenix tries to scatter you to the winds, I will be the gravity."
She closed her eyes, leaning her full weight into my hand. "Thank you."
"Come," I said, my voice thick. "We are close."
The last climb was steep. I ended up carrying her again, one arm wrapped around her waist, my other hand driving into the rock to create holds, climbing the chimney like a ladder. We rose through the layers of the earth, leaving the stagnant air of the tomb behind.
And then the rock ended.
We pulled ourselves up onto a narrow ledge, hidden behind a cluster of boulders and scrub brush.
The wind hit us first, cold, clean, smelling of pine and distant snow. It scrubbed the taste of the Skal and the damp cave from my lungs.
Above us, the sky was a vast, bruised purple, scattered with stars that looked nothing like the ceiling of a cavern. The moon was a sliver of bone, hanging low.
Aria gasped, stumbling away from me, moving toward the edge of the overlook.
We were high on the mountain's flank, far above the tree line. Below us, the valley was a pool of darkness. In the distance, the ruins of Oakhaven were a black smudge, no longer burning but scarred. To the east, the Citadel loomed, lights flickering in its windows like anxious eyes.
"Air," Aria breathed, tilting her head back, drinking it in.
I stood behind her, blocking the wind with my body. I watched her silhouette against the stars. She looked agonizingly small against the backdrop of the universe.
"Is it better?" I asked.
"Yes," she whispered. She turned to look at me, her hair whipping across her face in the wind. "It feels like... space. Like room to think."
"Good."
She shivered then, the cold of the high altitude cutting through her clothes.
I unclasped the heavy cloak I had worn, the scavenged wool rough but warm, and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her; the hem dragging on the ground.
"We cannot stay long," I said, scanning the horizon. "We’re exposed here."
"Just a minute," she pleaded, pulling the cloak tight. "Just one minute without walls."
I nodded, moving to stand beside her. We stood in silence, watching the world sleep below us.
But as I looked at her, watching the starlight trace the fatigue on her face, I felt a new fear take root in the bedrock of my soul. A fear deeper than the Devourer, older than the chains.
I had told her I would be the anchor. That I would hold her together when the others overwhelmed her.
But as I looked at the golden markings on her skin... I wondered if even I was strong enough to keep her from breaking when the real storm arrived.
"Thane?" she asked, her voice quiet.
"Yes, Little One?"
"If we do this... if we bind..." She looked at the Citadel, at the prison that had been her home. "Does the hunger ever stop? The need for the connection?"
I thought of the thousand years I had spent yearning for the touch of my brothers, for the touch of anyone. I thought of Kaelen's jealousy, Flynn's desperation.
"No," I answered honestly. "It does not stop. It only grows."
She nodded slowly, turning back to the abyss below.
