Page 132 of The Arrow and the Alder

Heart of a star.

When she framed it this way—and not with the lens of her actual heart—everything suddenly made sense. The Fate had told Seph to pass on her burden, but it washerburden, given by the other Fates, for this reason. Because she was the only one who could carry it.

The one who would not take it for herself.

Seph looked at Alder’s lifeless form, and her heart shattered like the glass dome above, leaving its fragments all over everything. Tears burned in her eyes, blurring his beautiful body—a body that would never rise again. His strong arms would never hold her, his lips would never kiss her, and his eyes would never look at her again in the way that her grandpa had looked at her nani.

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, and Seph’s shoulders shook with grief. She had not believed herself capable of loving anyone like she loved him, and he was gone.

Gone, when they’d only just begun, and he’d taken Seph’s heart with him.

Suddenly Seph knew what she had to do. She had Alder to thank for that.

“All right,” Seph said, resolved.

The Fate cocked her head to the side, staring at Seph with those soulless black eyes.

“I will pass the light to you,” Seph continued in a trembling voice.

The Fate’s lips slowly curled into a smile. “I knew you could be reasonable.”

The invisible force vanished and Seph dropped to the floor like a brick. She caught herself on her hands, coughing and wheezing for breath, and glanced over at Alder again. Her chest constricted painfully, but she pushed herself to her feet and walked toward the coat, stepping over broken glass and stone, around bodies, while that pile of glimmering fabric filled her vision.

She recalled all those times in the woods, sneaking around with her bow, trying not to get caught. All so that she could survive.

But there were some things, Seph realized, worth far more than surviving.

Saints give me strength,she prayed silently.

Seph stopped beside the coat and gazed down upon it, at those glimmering enchantments that slid across the surface like water. They seemed to flare a little brighter at her proximity. As if the saints were answering her, reminding her that this was and had always beenhertask, and hers alone.

Another tear leaked over Seph’s face as she crouched down and clutched the fabric in her hand. “I will see you soon,” she whispered to Alder, to Rys, and to her nani.

“What was that?” asked the Fate.

“Nothing…” Seph stood with the coat. She didn’t look at the Fate as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, and she cast one last glance at Alder’s handsome face before she pulled the coat over her shoulders.

A breath.

And light exploded.

All the world was white and fire, a wash of brilliance so bright that Seph would have closed her eyes if she’d had any control over them. But she was without form, a consciousness floating weightless in an endless expanse of light and heat. It was everywhere, without and within—pouring out and part of her—and for a moment, Seph feared that she’d been wrong. That this heat would burn her up before she even had the chance to do what needed to be done.

As before, the Fate’s withered and decrepit form appeared before her, in that sea of endless light. The Fate was a darkness, flickering in and out of sight, as if it took all her power to exist in this space.

Pass the power to me now!

Seph focused with all her might.No.

What?The Fate’s form flickered and distorted.

This power was never meant for you. It was given to me, and I am giving it back to the land, where it belongs.

Your form cannot handle it, mortal. It will consume you,hissed the Fate.

But I am not just a mortal, am I?Seph replied in that space.I am also part star. In fact, I haveyouto thank for reminding me.

Because it wasn’t just the light in the coat that needed returning back to the land. It was also the light withinSeph—light stolen from the heavens and given to a little star: her great-grandmother. Seph had inherited not only her build and her hair, but also some of her light. Abecka had already given up her light when she’d passed. It was Seph’s turn now.

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