Page 89 of Where Darkness Dwells

She nods. “Anyone who thinks they have a chance at defeating the Foremost can.” A shiver runs through her body. “It’s usually a bloody affair, and it almost certainly will end in death. I first saw one when I was seven years old, and I’ll never forget the way the Foremost’s family clung to each other.”

The Foremost’s . . .family.

“Belwyn,” I whisper, fear gripping my bones in its claws.

Without explaining, I dash from the cathedral, through Ellithïm’s idyllic street, and into the veins of dystopian Utsanek. I don’t stop running until I hear Wehna’s call.

“Amyrah, wait.”

I slow and hold out my arms to cushion me as I come to a stop against a crumbling column of brick. My breaths come in stabbing gasps.

“Where are you going?”

I shake my head. What am I doing? Running to the aid of a boy? No, it must be more than that. “I should be there, to see ... to know what happens.” My hands shake. I grasp for my long hair.

Instead of questioning me further, Wehna traps one of my hands in hers.

“We’re on the wrong side of the city. We’ll never get there in time.”

Still, the drums continue. Pounding, pounding, incessantly pounding.

“I need to be there for him,” I say in a whisper, lip trembling.I need to fix what I did to him.

Wehna’s soulful eyes search mine, and I hate how feeble, how unstable I must seem. But her hand tightens.? “We’ll exit Utsanek and circle around it until we come to one of the main roads. Then we can cut right through the middle and end up at the ceremonial grounds. If we hurry, we might make it in time.”

Gratitude swells as she leads me through the streets. They are darker than they should be, the ténesomni pushing in more than it has since the solas returned to the Vale.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the crooked buildings no longer loom overhead. I know where I am now, but I still let Wehna direct us. We pass fields of tender shoots reaching toward the sky. Do they reach for the light hidden behind the shadows, the stars we cannot see?

Once we step onto the shores of the loch, I stop. Wehna turns around, a question in her eyes.

“Do you hear that?” I ask.

She tilts her head and frowns, confused. “Hear what?”

“The drums. They’re quiet.” I stare toward the city, defeated. We’re too late.

Wehna comes close to me, and we stand together for so long, my feet start to ache. The wind passes through the treetops, the waves drag at the shore.

“Do you ever feel trapped in this place?” I say, daring to interrupt the Vale’s unfeeling melody.

“Every single day,” she says.

Tears trace shining lines down her bronze cheeks. I feel her sadness stir my own. Her jaw clenches, and sorrow slips seamlessly into anger. “Once you’re in it, there is only this darkness.” She looks at me, her irises rings of ignati.

“We must find the light together,” I say.

In that moment, when our spirits become kindred and we share a kindling of hope, I look up.

My vision fills with the impossible.

33. Belwyn

BELWYN

THE DRUMS ECHO THROUGH THE DARKNESS, then leave the air ringing with their silence. Ignoring the gnawing sensation in my chest, I pull on the awful ceremonial garb.

Strange to think this could be the last time I will wear it.

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