Page 135 of The Song Rising

Veins of color glistened behind my eyelids. My dreamscape was on the verge of collapse. As the air was drained from my lungs, I saw Nick smiling at me in the courtyard, surrounded by blossoms, sunlight in his hair. My father, the last day I saw him alive. Eliza laughing at the market. I saw Warden, felt his hands framing my face and his lips seeking mine behind the red drapes. The amaranth in bloom. And I heard Jaxon’s voice:

Perhaps our game is only just beginning.

As my vision darkened, some small instinct made me hold out my left hand, as if I could push the spirit away. My arm was forced back, but I kept my palm turned outward. The scars there felt white-hot, scars I had received in a poppy field when I was a child.

And I felt something change. Iwaspushing it away.

The pain began as a tiny point, a needle pushing through the middle of my palm. As it grew, a wordless scream racked my body—and just for a moment, some of the pressure released. Just enough for me to gasp in one more breath. And with that breath, I whispered, “Go.”

What happened next was unclear. I remember watching the glass pyramid shatter. It must have exploded in a split second, but in my mind, it lasted for eternity. I was flung in one direction, Vance in the other.

Then came an arc of blinding white, and the world turned to oblivion.

24

The Crossing

January 1, 2060

New Year’s Day

I had woken like this once before, thinking I was dead.

The æther was calling me into his arms, telling me to abandon all my cares, to leave my tender bones behind. My eyelids parted, just enough to see a pale hand clad in shards of glass. The rest of my arm sparkled, armored in diamond and glazed with molten ruby. Even my lashes were frosted with gemstones. I was a living jewel-box, a fallen star. No longer flesh, but crystalline.

Wind howled through the part of the roof where the angel had passed through. Splinters tinkled from my hair as I turned to see the ceiling. The white light had been extinguished. All that was left of Senshield was a cavernous hole in the æther, marking a place where a spirit had dwelled for many years. Over time, it would stitch itself back together.

There was one thing I wanted to know before I left. My hand shook as I rotated it. The fallen angel had carved a word into my skin, joining the fragmented pieces of the scars.

KIN

I lay back in my bed of glass. A friend had once told me that knowledge was dangerous. When I let go, I would have all the knowledge of the æther; this mystery would soon be solved. And I could find the others. Even if they didn’t know, I would stay with them. I would watch over them. I would help them win the next stage of the game, the war that had begun today.

Footsteps came through the glass, drawing me back. A moment later, my head and shoulders were lifted into the crook of an arm, and Rephaite eyes were smoldering in the gloom.

“Dreamwalker.”

His features gradually sharpened.

“Leave me,” I murmured. “Leave me, Alsafi.”

He took hold of my left hand and pried my fingers open, revealing the marks on my palm.

“I’m not worth it.” I was so tired. “I’m done. Just go.”

“Some would disagree with your assessment of your worth.” He released my hand. When he scooped an arm under my knees and lifted me, I groaned. My skin bristled with broken glass. “This is not your time.”

He carried me through the ruins, pushing the pistol into my limp hand. The fight wasn’t over. As he opened the door, I caught sight of Hildred Vance in the corner. Her body was angled away from us, but I could see that she was as broken as I was. She bled just like the rest of us. I wanted to tell Alsafi to turn back, to make sure she was dead, but I blacked out before I could.

When I came round, Alsafi was almost at the bottom of the stairs, and my cheek was pressed against his doublet. When he entered the corridor with the black carpet, I lifted a hand to his shoulder.

“Dreamscape,” I whispered. My gift had been weakened, but I felt it. A Rephaite. “Nashira.”

Alsafi stopped in his tracks. There was no other way out of the corridor.

“Stay quiet.” He spoke quickly. “If anything happens to me, go to the Inquisitorial Office. There, you can access a tunnel that will take you out of the Archon. I have a contact—they are waiting for you there.”

“Alsafi—”

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