Silas would want me to do that. TherealSilas would want me to do that.
I closed my eyes and placed my hands on him.
He felt firm, solid—but as I focused on those twinges of power, grasping at them like straws, I gasped.
Silaswasn’treal. When I sent out my tendrils of magic toward him, they went right through him. He was solid, but it was a complex illusion. When I used my magic, I found I could tear him apart like wisps from cotton candy. He was nothingbutair.
He didn’t have a beating heart. No pulse of blood. No signs of life.
I worked on separating the air particles like I had when I first learned how to wrap air around the stone and the water. When I opened my eyes, I saw the man I loved disintegrating before me. Or rather, the image of him.It’s not Silas, I reminded myself.
It had never been Silas. Just like it hadn’t been my mother. Or Simon. It had all been a test to see if I would turn back. A test of resilience and illusions.
And as Silas disappeared, I saw the true top of the mountain, even higher than I’d expected. There sat a small gem, pink as the horizon at sunset. I took my final steps, reached for the gem. When I touched it, I felt a sensation of tugging behind my navel.
When I blinked again, I was back on the edge of the cliff where Seer Goddard had stood the first day, my toes hanging off the ledge, the sea crashing beneath me in deadly waves.
I’d done it.
I’d completed the second trial.
