Page 167 of Flame and Sparrow

The sky flashed and rumbled above me.

I took a deep breath, and I waded into the river.

* * *

The time spent driftingbetween the worlds seemed to stretch on for hours. As I floated, it occurred to me that the other middle-gods might have gotten what they’d wished for, after all. They had banished me to the emptiness of Eligas—for cheating, for failing, for everything I’d gotten wrong—and I would never see the mortal realm, oranyrealm, ever again.

I twisted and tumbled, breathless and weightless for so long that I’d nearly made peace with the idea of purgatory when my back scraped against pebbly mud. Waves nudged me up and farther up. My face broke through the surface, I inhaled a sharp, painful breath, and I blinked my eyes open to a cold night sky.

Thousands of stars twinkled above me, welcoming me back. The stars I’d once missed.

I no longer wanted any of them.

I lay there, halfway in the water, halfway in the mud, while I tried to orient myself. I was not only heartbroken, but dizzy and nauseous now, too, the travel between realms taking what felt like a worse toll on my body than ever before.

Finally, I found the strength to sit up and look around.

This was clearly the mortal realm, but I wasn’t precisely sure where I was. I was lucky I’d made it through at all, really; I hadn’t pictured any destination clearly, as Dravyn had once instructed me to do—because I didn’t know where in this realm I could possibly go.

I still didn’t know.

But I wouldn’t go back to my old home—of that much I was certain. Not with the divine things I carried and the knowledge I now had. I wouldn’t let my old allies use these things. I wouldn’t let them useme. I would hold my fragments of the divine realm close, and I would start over somewhere far, far away from everything.

I couldn’t think beyond that; it was too daunting.

I tried to focus on surviving, nothing more. I was soaked to the bone, and the night seemed to be growing colder by the minute. I stripped my drenched cloak off in hopes that the clothing underneath would dry more quickly without it. I fastened it to my bag, secured that bag against my back, and then—knowing I’d dry quicker if I kept moving—I forced myself to stagger to my feet and started to walk.

I slogged on for a mile, at least, my dizziness growing worse with each step. For once, I tried not to think. I didn’t map out my surroundings as I went. I didn’t question any of it. I didn’t carewhere I ended up.

As long as it’s anywhere but here.

I was fighting the urge to vomit at the memory of Dravyn’s words when I saw a strange light bobbing in the darkness off to my right, back in the direction of the river.

Fire?

Shivering, convinced I was hallucinating, I shook my head and trudged onward.

The fire followed me.

After a few minutes, I glanced over my shoulder. It was still there. I slowed to a stop. The dizziness I’d been fighting threatened to overtake me, so I leaned against a nearby tree, narrowing my eyes at the light now heading straight toward me. As my vision steadied, I realized it trulywasfire—the flaming tip of a tail.

Moth bounded into sight seconds later, his wings drooping and his body darker than usual, his fur and feathers wet and dripping with what I assumed was river water.

His ears perked up at the sound of my surprised gasp. He spotted me after a moment of searching, and half-soared, half-stumbled his way toward me; his wings seemed to function even less gracefully while they were drenched, but it didn’t slow him completely—he still managed to take a flying leap into my arms, colliding with my chest in his usual chaotic manner.

The sight of the divine creature was like a cold wind blowing into an open wound—a reminder of the pain I was trying desperately not to think about.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

He nuzzled his head against my chest, his beak closing around the damp collar of my shirt and giving it a little tug.

“First Dravyn thinks I intended to murder him, and now he’s going to think I stole his pet, too.” I placed the griffin on the ground before me, steeling myself, knowing the painful words I needed to say.

He lifted his wide eyes to mine, cocking his head curiously to the side.

“You have to go back,” I said, pointing him toward the river.

He let out an uncertain purr.

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