“They are the source of your magic.”
“I was happy before without magic, and I will be happy again without it. The scissors served me well, but I don’t need them anymore. Keep them for me, Mama.”
My answer seemed to please my mother, for she threw her arms around me in an embrace. But she did not take the scissors.
“Before you go, you must use them one last time.”
She gestured at the blanket of stars beneath us. There was a tear in the middle, a trace of glittering sunlight seeping through the seams.
The rip in the heavens.
I was to mend it, the way the first Weaver had in what was now legend.
“Together, Mama,” I said.
She placed her hand over my arm, guiding me as I set my scissors against the sky, letting loose its magic to stitch together the heavens. Then, when at last it was done, my mother eased the scissors from my grasp and clasped my hand, drawing me close.
She kissed my forehead. “Farewell for now, my Maia.”
When she let go, the entire world blazed, the sky ripening into a sea of flames. I watched Mama fade into the stars, the silhouettes of my brothers appearing to escort her back to heaven. Then the sea engulfed me, and I burst into flames.
And I suddenly realized what form I’d taken: a phoenix, meant to rise again.
• • •
The sound of water rippled in my ears, a misty spray tickling my face.
My first breath was full of the ocean, and I drank in its freshness. Then I started to wake.
Blood rushed to my arms and legs…and my toes dug into warm, moist sand.
Someone held me, a heartbeat other than my own softly thumping in sync with mine. I opened my eyes, lashes clinging stubbornly to my skin.
A hazy face hovered above me, features sharpening against the glimmer of the sun. A nose, slightly crooked at the bridge, a square chin, finely chiseled along its edges, more bristly than I remembered it. Hair, black as cinder, with tousled curls that desperately needed trimming, and thin, uneven lips—parted now in a quiet gasp.
“Edan.”
Relief spread across his face, and he dropped to his knees beside me.
“I thought you’d want to see the ocean one last time,” he started. “We thought you were dead.”
“I’m here.” I pressed my finger to his lips, shushing him. His eyes were moist and swollen, his cheeks stained by tears. I blotted them with my sleeve, then took his face in my hands.
I kissed his cheeks, his nose, his eyes. His lips. I lingered there, inhaling the familiar warmth of his breath. Letting it seep into my own and stay there, as it had when I first lovedhim.
The warmth of the rising sun touched my face. “It’s morning,” I said. “Where’s Baba? And Keton—”
“They’re safe. They’re on their way from the capital.”
Now I bolted up. “The capital? Does that mean—”
“The war is over.” Edan nodded. “Gyiu’rak is no more. The shansen is no more. And Lady Sarnai is empress.”
“Empress?” I repeated.
“Yes, the people want her. The ministers had a fit at first, over a woman ruling A’landi, but sheisthe rightful ruler.”
“Empress Sarnai,” I murmured again, letting the words ring. “A’landi is whole again.”
