Rylynn did not comeany closer. She folded her hands in front of her, as proper and graceful in death as she had been in life. This was a version of her I did not remember. I’d never seen her with gray in her hair. So, this could not be a memory. But she could be a creation of my imagination, a hallucination induced by Pava. Or this could be Rylynn. Whatever was left of her after three hundred and some years.
Did it matter?
I curled my hand around the base of one of Isanara’s horns, trying to draw on her strength. My feet did not move.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
My voice shook. Showing weakness to a deity was a mistake. I remembered how Xyta had taken the shape of my mother and Maura at the Sacrifice Gate. But I could not help it. No control, no amount of practice with Tomin or the Dark God, would ever be enough.
Rylynn lifted her slender arm in invitation. “Walk with me.”
This could not be real. This was a trick to… disturb my peace? Was that what the Peace Gate was really about?
“I…” No more words came out. I just could not form them.
Rylynn’s mouth curved into a smile it did not recognize. It was softer than any I’d ever seen in our shared years together. “You’ve come so far. You can do it. It is just a few more steps.”
Isanara nudged my hand.
Come with me?
Always,she promised.
So you think. But I kept that thought to myself. I did not want to hurt her anymore. I did not want to hurt anyone.
My feet moved. The leather boots were mine. Garrick hadn’t told me how he’d gotten them back. The hole in the sole was mended. But the tread was familiar. The leather hugged my ankles, shaped over the years to the unique dip and curve of my bones.
Every other part of my body felt foreign. One step, another. Until I stood before my eldest sister in the pale blue-green light.
She didn’t speak or try to touch me. If she’d tried to hug me… but we’d never been a family given to physical affection. I almost thanked the gods out of habit, but I stopped myself. The Goddess of Peace was already here, no doubt. Watching. Judging. I was not feeling very peaceful.
“Why are you here?” I asked.Here in the Peace Gate. Here in this cave tunnel. Here in the back of my mind, no matter what I do or where I go.
Rylynn glanced around. “This is the Peace Gate, is it not?”
I followed her gaze. There was nothing about our current whereabouts that should have given her a clue. “How do you know that?”
She gave a small shrug, her eyes landing back on me. “I just do.”
“What else do you just know?” My suspicions grew.
This was not the real Rylynn. It couldn’t be. The sister I’d known in life was sharp, clever, and proud. This was Pava’screation. And I still could not figure out how being tortured with my dead sister was related to peace.
“I think we should walk,” Rylynn suggested for the second time. She turned back in the direction she’d been walking before I called her by name.
I did not want to walk or talk or do anything with her. If she were Pava’s creation, she could turn on me at any time. Grow fangs and tear me to shreds. Maybe this was about luring me into a false sense of security, letting me know that peace was always just an illusion. It sounded twisted enough for one of Velora’s deities.
But I was not going to get out of the Peace Gate by standing still.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Rylynn did not move until I was by her side.
Isanara huffed in annoyance, but she could not walk by my side anyway. The tunnel had not gotten any wider. She blew a puff of breath against the back of my neck, sending my hair forward into my face.
I will not forget you are there, I promised.
We walked in stilted silence. At least, it felt that way to me. I kept stealing glances at the being that purported to be my sister, but she showed no signs of agitation. She seemed perfectly content to walk in silence, now that she had me walking.
