The Phoenix Born
Author: Kaitlyn Davis
Date: 2015-11-17 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Young Adult; High Fantasy; Romance; dragons; Fantasy Romance
Description: The final book in the thrilling A Dance of Dragons series! For the first time in a thousand years, the fire dragon has been awakened and Rhen is its rider. But after destroying the armies that threatened the city of Rayfort, Rhen is shown a vision in flames that changes everything. The shadow's phantom armies are coming and the dragons are the only things that might stop them. High in the castle at the top of the Gates, Jinji has learned something of her own. Janu, her long lost twin, is alive. And just as the spirit shares her body, the shadow shares his. In the blink of an eye, her quest for

THE

PHOENIX

BORN

A Dance of Dragons #3

By Kaitlyn Davis

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Kaitlyn Davis

Cover Art: Manipulated by Kaitlyn Davis from attribution licensed flickr creative commons photos by Zaraut B, gorchakov.artem, Les Haines, and Soren Niedziella, a DeviantArt brush by XResch, and a photoshop pattern by Obsidian Dawn.

World Map: Illustrated by Sarah Faith Morris (Sylva Knight)

The right of Kaitlyn Davis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be direct infringement of the author's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblances between the characters and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

ALL WORKS BY KAITLYN DAVIS

A Dance of Dragons

The Shadow Soul

The Spirit Heir

The Phoenix Born

A Dance of Dragons – The Novellas

The Golden Cage

The Silver Key

The Bronze Knight

The Iron Rider

Once Upon A Curse

Gathering Frost

Withering Rose – Coming Soon!

Midnight Fire

Ignite

Simmer

Blaze

Scorch

To my family for their unconditional love,
my friends for their overwhelming support,
and my fans for their incredible enthusiasm.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

All Works by Kaitlyn Davis

Dedication

Table of Contents

World Map

1. Jinji ~ The Gates

2. Rhen ~ The Gates

3. Jinji ~ Rayfort

4. Rhen ~ Rayfort

5. Jinji ~ Rayfort

6. Rhen ~ Rayfort

7. Jinji ~ Fayfall

8. Rhen ~ Fayfall

9. Jinji ~ Brython

10. Rhen ~ Brython

11. Jinji ~ Brython

12. Rhen ~ Roninhythe

13. Jinji ~ Roninhythe

14. Rhen ~ Roninhythe

15. Jinji ~ Roninhythe

16. Rhen ~ Roninhythe

17. Jinji ~ Roninhythe

18. Rhen ~ Roninhythe

19. Jinji ~ Roninhythe

20. Rhen ~ Rayfort

21. Jinji ~ The Shadow Realm

22. Rhen ~ The Gates

23. Jinji ~ Northmore Forest

The A Dance of Dragons Novellas

More Books by Kaitlyn Davis

About The Author

(Back to Table of Contents)

1

JINJI

~ THE GATES ~

Jinji opened her eyes to a changed world.

The sky ahead was clear, empty, and it meant Rhen was truly gone. Vanished from her life, swept away on the back of the fire dragon he had just awoken. She knew where he was traveling—Rayfort. To his family. To his people. To save them from the rebels and the Ourthuri currently attacking his home. To save them with his fire. Jinji knew Rhen better than he knew himself. And she knew something else, something she was deathly afraid to admit—that nothing would ever be the same.

The next time she saw Rhen, it would be over.

The next time she saw Rhen, the lie would begin.

The next time she saw Rhen, they would no longer be on the same side.

And it was all because of the man in her arms.

Janu.

Her brother. Her twin. Her family. But deep inside, ensnaring his soul, was the shadow. A murderer. A killer. And the one thing Jinji had vowed to defeat but no longer could because the two of them were one. Jinji couldn't destroy the shadow without destroying her brother, so her only option was to let them both live—something Rhen would never forgive her for. People would die because of her inaction. The shadow was going to call forth his phantom armies—it was inevitable. And when that happened, hundreds would perish. It was an unavoidable truth. Every moment the shadow lived was another moment that left the world shrouded in dire danger. And if Rhen were there, he would end it all right now. But that was something Jinji could never do. Not now. Not to her twin.

Janu shifted beneath her arms, pulling back, and Jinji broke her gaze with the bleak, empty horizon. She could never go back. The decision was made. The only direction to move was forward.

"I don't know where to begin," Janu whispered, voice raw with emotion.

Jinji cupped his cheek, marveling at the golden hue that she never thought she would see again, one that perfectly matched hers, as though they were one and not two people. Her gaze shifted to his eyes, warm and full of life, brown with golden flecks, darker than hers but almost the same. Her thumb stroked his skin just once, stretching the moment. Jinji wanted to hold on to this, to this one second where everything seemed right in the world. Her brother had come back to her, and nothing else mattered.

"Ka'shasten," she murmured. My family, my loved one, my brother.

"Ka'shasten," he said back, and it was perfect, a sound and a word Jinji had never dared hope to hear again.

"Come," she said, standing and tugging on his hand. Jinji didn't want to look at the sky any longer. It was too vast, too expansive. She led Janu from the balcony, back into the castle nestled into the peak of the Gates. Though the walls were white and mostly bare, they thrummed with life. The spirits lived within this rock, within these stones. Jinji brushed her fingertips along the wall, feeling the spirits move beneath her touch, attuned to her every thought. And for the first time in a long time, a place felt like home.

Back in the hall, Janu took the lead. How long had he been trapped here? How long had he been waiting for her to come save him? How long had he been alone? Yet not alone, Jinji realized, thinking of the voice in her head—the spirit. Janu had a voice of his own—the shadow. His only companion. And Jinji shivered thinking about the whispers the shadow had put in her twin's head, thoughts from which there was no escape.

They stopped beside two empty chairs. Janu fell back, weary and weak. Jinji couldn't help but scan his frame, much taller than hers but much thinner too. Unhealthy and so different from the man she used to picture in her dreams, from the image she used to weave in the clearing of the forest. In her mind, Janu was a hunter—strong and fierce. But in reality, he had been hunted. Caught and dying a slow, agonizing death.

Jinji shook her head.

Too dark. All her thoughts had recently been too dark. And today was a magical day. She had found her twin again. He had come back to life. No matter the circumstances, it was something to celebrate.

She smiled, peeking at him with her eyes wide in excitement. Janu scrunched his brows, gazing at her with apprehension, before giving into a grin of his own. Energy filled the space between them, electric, buzzing with joy that neither sibling wanted to contain. Just like old times. Though now, it was Jinji who was behind the surprise and not her brother.

"Watch this," she said and closed her eyes, envisioning the table by her knees. The spirits heeded her every whim, and now that Jinji had fully embraced her strength, using her powers felt as easy as breathing.

Janu gasped.

Jinji opened her eyes, taking in her brother's dropped jaw, heart singing as his eyes sparkled with joy, so similar to the boy in her memories.

"How?" He barely got the question out.

Jinji bit her lip and shrugged, holding back a giggle. "A lot has changed, Janu, but right now all that matters is I'm starving."

And then her gaze dropped to the table, and her chest swelled with a whole mix of emotions—nostalgia, longing, sadness, love. Resting on top of the table was a feast—an Arpapajo feast—something she never thought she would ever be able to enjoy again. Freshly roasted deer and rabbit. Steaming baked bread. Aromatic bean soup. Berries newly plucked from the bushes. Herbal tea, the one her mother used to make.

For a moment, Jinji was overwhelmed taking the spread in—the sights, the smells. If she closed her eyes, Jinji could picture the faces of her people around her. Her father at the head of the table, blessing the meal with her mother by his side. Leoa bouncing her legs, impatient for the festivities to begin. Maniuk across from her, watching protectively, knowing this would be his role in the future. The children playing with acorns in the dirt, unaware they were supposed to be listening. And the chair always empty on her mother's other side, in remembrance of her brother, the future leader of the tribe taken too soon. How odd that now they were all gone, and it was Janu who was the only one left by her side.

Jinji didn't realize a tear had spilled down her cheek until Janu reached out to wipe it away. His hand rested on her face for a moment longer than necessary, lingering while they shared a knowing look. The memories she had buried were crawling back out, fighting to be relived. And for the first time in a long time, with Janu by her side, Jinji felt strong enough to visit the past and pretend, at least for a little while.

She gripped his fingers, noticing the water gathering in his eyes, and smiled. Then she shook the sadness away and dug in, using her fingers to rip the meat from the bones of the rabbit, licking them after taking a bite, just like she used to when they were children. There were no words necessary—no words that said enough, not even in the old language—so they ate in silence.

At least, they started to. But not two bites in, Jinji fell to the ground, screaming as an agonizing vision ripped through her.

Fire.

Everywhere.

Screams. Pain. Chaos.

Jinji tried to make sense of it, but the raw heat of anger, of heartbreak, was too overpowering. So she let it come in an onslaught, wave after wave, until she realized what it was. The view was from above, of flames engulfing the city below. Fire swallowed Rayfort and its enemies with it. But they weren't her enemies. And they weren't her dragon's enemies. And soon, Rhen would realize they weren't his enemies either.

Slowly, the vision faded. Brilliant, bubbling orange gave way to somber gray, and a face filled her eyes instead. Janu watched over her in terror.

"Jinji!" He shook her shoulders. Her head was in his lap. How long had she been out?

"I'm all right," Jinji said, sitting up, gripping his hand fiercely to let him know she was okay. "But we must go."

"What was that?" he asked, fear not yet gone from his voice. Fear for her. Fear of being left alone again.

"My fire dragon," she murmured, still not quite able to believe it herself. The voice had said the dragons were part of her, were pure elemental spirit magic, but Jinji hadn't quite believed it until that moment. The beast was like another one of her limbs. Even now, she sensed it out there in the distance somewhere, crying out in pain to not be forced to kill the very humans it was created to protect. And it had called to her for help. Jinji sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Oh, Rhen."

The dragon was not the only one who would need her help.

"Who's Rhen?" Janu asked, an edge to his voice.

Jinji's heart skipped. There were too many possible answers to that question, so Jinji answered with the first one that came to mind, the truest and the simplest. "My friend."

Janu wasn't satisfied. A dark glint shone in his eye, but Jinji chose to ignore it. He opened his mouth, and she cringed inwardly, not wanting to explain further, to see the judgment in his eyes—a newworlder prince? No Arpapajo would ever understand, least not her brother. But none of them had been there. Like Janu, Jinji had been left alone, and she had coped with it the best she could. Instead, he just asked, "Where are we going?"

"Rayfort," Jinji answered without pause, grabbing one more piece of bread before blinking the meal from existence. Pain engulfed the city. She could hear cries on the air, as though the wind carried them to her ears. And with her newfound strength, Jinji could make all of it go away. "There are too many people there who need my help."

If Janu didn’t understand, he didn't say anything. And for the first time, Jinji wondered how much the shadow had told him. Of Jinji. Of the spirit. Of their shared destiny together.

But there was no time to dwell. As she raced through the castle, feet pounding on stone, her mind traveled back to her last moment with the shadow. To the sneer that twisted his lips and the fury that alighted his eyes as soon as Rhen had awoken the dragon, as soon as that first blast of fire shot into the sky. One, he had said, you have one but you won't get the others.

Jinji gasped, pushing her legs even faster, sprinting.

The princess.

Leena.

She had a water affinity. She must be the next rider. She would wake the water dragon. And the last time Jinji had seen her was in Rayfort. What if she was stuck in the middle of the battle? What if she had never escaped? What if the shadow had left Jinji and gone straight to the princess, to kill the next rider before Jinji even had the chance to save her? Had she lost another friend? How long would it take to find another person with a water affinity, with the potential to wake that dragon?

Jinji shook her head as they reached the front hallway of the castle. The princess's destiny wasn’t to perish at the shadow's hands. It was to ride on ice and water. Jinji would find her. She would save her. She would find all of the riders and would wake all of the dragons. It was their only defense against the shadow, the only way they might possibly defeat him—the only thing that might be able to save Janu's life.

Outside, the sky was still clear, but her eyes were focused forward, on the staircase. She ran down taking two steps at a time, and Janu followed, racing to keep up. Moments later, they were at the base of the Gates, on that little stone platform nestled deep in the mountain—the secret entrance the spirit had led her to hours ago. And the little wooden boat she and Rhen had used was right where she had left it, stuck in the river she had frozen solid around it. They boarded. Jinji released the ice, letting it melt away, and commanded the water to take her back through the Gates, back to the world of the living.

Janu stood next to her, shocked into silence, gaping with awe as the sea heeded her every order. The waves crashing against the rocky cliffs of the Gates paused, becoming as still as glass to let their boat glide over. The current shifted, flowing toward Rayfort. The tides rolled, carrying the boat faster and farther. The sails whipped sharply as the wind pushed against them, never once weakening. And in no time at all, it felt as though they flew across the White Stone Sea.

Jinji saw the smoke first, an angry black cloud drawing a sharp line through the crystal sky. The closer they got, the more devastating the image became. Ships were half sunk in the harbor. Wooden bits, blackened and burned, floated atop water that was once brilliant turquoise but was now clouded by soot. The white walls of the city were crumbling into the sea, slashed with ebony burns. And beyond, houses were broken and bent, falling in on themselves, no more than rubble—the sort of demolition caused by men and not by fire. Jinji could imagine the rest—the streets covered in crushed stone, the broken populace wandering aimlessly with nowhere to go now that their homes had been destroyed, the bodies of the dead still littering the ground.

Going through the city would take hours, far more time than Jinji had, considering Rhen and his dragon were nowhere to be seen. They had left, taking the fire and the soul of the city with them. But as much as she wished to follow, there were more important things she had to do here—saving the princess, finding any other riders. Rhen would find her. He always did.

Jinji pushed the water beneath the boat harder. Janu gripped her arm, worried as the wall of the city fast approached, but Jinji paid him no mind.

When she had left this city, Jinji was little more to these people than Rhen's traveling partner. An oldworlder. A foreigner. Someone with no respect and even less power. And the only way to change that now was to do something drastic, was to show these people she was not the same woman they remembered, to demand to be someone they could no longer afford to ignore. The Kingdom of Whylkin always answered to a king, and now that king would answer to her.

"Hold on," she yelled to Janu.

And then they flew.

Jinji pushed the water beneath the boat up in a giant spout, popping them forward and into the air. The wind billowed, catching the sails and pressing against the bottom of the vessel, almost solid with its force.

The castle of Rayfort loomed ahead, their destination. Below, Jinji heard the shouts of the people, fearful and confused. The word traveled. Bodies stopped in the street, heads flipped up, jaws dropped. And through it all, Jinji and Janu continued to sail across the sky, sinking to the open courtyard below. They landed with a gentle thud. The base of the boat skidded against the grass, coming to a complete stop mere steps from the grand entrance to the castle. An entrance now lined with red-clothed guards already defeated by the day. And yet, despite their weary muscles, their bedraggled appearance, each one stood ready to defend his king.

Jinji almost felt sorry for what she would do next.

"I must speak with King Whyllem."

The only response was a terrified silence. A few brave souls cocked arrows in their bows, watching her with apprehension. First dragons and now flying ships? It was no wonder they were afraid, but she wished they weren't. It would make everything so much easier.

Jinji gave them one more second to respond, hoping someone might recognize her as Rhen's companion, might take her willingly to the king. But listening to their strangled silence, she had no choice but to act. With the flick of her fingers, a gust of wind blew in from either side, knocking the men over, flinging them away from the entrance. Jinji tried not to wince as she stepped forward, keeping the wind strong, so even as they fought to reach her, they could not break through the wall the air created. Janu followed a step behind.

Jinji pushed the doors to the side, taking her time, knocking anyone aside who dared try to stop her. With little effort, she reached the throne room. Putting her hand to the towering wooden door, Jinji burned it to ash beneath her fingers, watching as it crumbled to dust before her eyes and fell like a gentle rain to the ground.

The trick worked. She would not be ignored.

King Whyllem sat in his throne, eyes narrowed. But they widened when they landed on her. Surprise and recognition flooded his gaze. Before he had time to utter a word, a dozen arrows flew toward her, released by the guards on either side of the royal family. The men acted on instinct before their king could say no.

It didn’t matter.

Jinji lifted her hand.

All twelve arrows stopped, hanging in the air as though frozen in time, and then one by one they fell to the floor, each click deafening in the silence of the room.

"Lady Jinji," King Whyllem said, voice stronger than she thought he might feel.

Behind her, boots thudded down the hall. The guards she had left in her wake were struggling to catch up. Without turning, Jinji wove the spirits, picturing that the door she had burned away was rebuilt and that an iron bar was latched across it. They wouldn't bother her now.

"You might not believe it at this moment, King Whyllem, but I come in peace, and I come to help. I could not wait for an audience with you, so I had to take your time in the only way I know how. Call your guards off, because I assure you I can do more harm to them than they can do to me."

She hardly recognized her own voice. It was hard and commanding, far more confident than she felt. But this was what Jinji had to become because she knew what came next. After finding Leena, after awakening the water dragon, she would be healing these people—not just those loyal to Whylkin but the Ourthuri and the traitors on the other side of the wall too. In the fight against the shadow, the world of kings did not matter. Jinji couldn't erase the voice's vision from her mind—the black cloud of ghosts that would swallow the world whole. An army of phantoms from the shadow world, an army she had to find a way to defeat without killing her brother, a task that would take the help of every living soul available. Before that war began, King Whyllem would come to understand that she would be obeyed whether he liked it or not, the fate of the entire world depended on it.

The redheaded king of Whylkin glanced to either side, looking so much like Rhen that it made her heart hurt, and called off his men. They stood down, lowering their weapons, but not relaxing entirely.

"What can I help you with, Lady Jinji?"

She swallowed. "Princess Leena, is she here? Or did you send her away?"

"That question is harder to explain than you might believe," he said.

"Harder to explain than a woman who can fly a ship through the air and catch arrows midflight?" Jinji asked.

Whyllem nodded and raised his brows, as though to say, good point. "The princess was here not even half an hour ago, but she ran. My guards, I cannot explain it myself, they turned on her. One by one, each man tried to hurt her. They followed her. They were beyond command, beyond reason. And though they each remember it, not a single one can say who or what or how it happened. They say something else, someone else, commanded their actions."

Jinji couldn't help it, her gaze slid to the man by her side who shared nearly the same profile as her. Sensing her eyes, Janu looked at her. She broke her gaze but not quickly enough, not before she saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes. The shadow had been here—not Janu—but deep down, Jinji couldn't help but lay some of the blame on him. And on herself too. If she had just been strong enough to do what she must, to kill the shadow, none of this might have happened.

Jinji reached out, gripping Janu's fingers. Holding hands, her brother felt solid, felt real. She couldn't hurt him.

She wouldn't.

"Where is the princess now?"

Whyllem shook his head. "If she survived, your guess is as good as my own."

Jinji glanced behind Whyllem to the expansive window taking up the entire wall behind the throne. The city below was in shambles. Smoke still rose into the sky. Bodies were buried beneath buildings, strewn across the streets, probably burned beyond recognition in the flames. And Leena could be anywhere. Alive or dead, it would be nearly impossible to find her.

A commotion outside the door caught her attention. Someone was shouting. Screaming. And somehow, deep in her gut, Jinji knew. Twice before, Princess Leena had been brought to her by fate. First in Da'astiku, where the princess had mistaken Jinji for her deceased love. Second in Rayfort, when the princess had miraculously saved Jinji from the sea. And now this.

It was more than a coincidence.

It had to be.

Jinji spun, waving her hand, and the door to the throne room disappeared. Everyone in the hall stopped, shocked. It gave Jinji just enough time to take in a man she recognized carrying a body she did not.

"Cal?" Jinji asked, surprised. Rhen spoke of his childhood best friend so much that Jinji had no doubt it was he. And if that hadn't been enough, she had met him in Rayfort weeks ago, before the king had sent her and Rhen away.

But Cal was beyond answering. His bronze eyes were wide, his sandy brown hair was matted to his head with sweat, and a frantic aura surrounded him. Without pausing, he ran into the room, dropping to his knees, laying the body at Jinji's feet, speaking so fast she could hardly make out the words.

"You must help. You must save her. I found her in the water. I heard the men say a guard had followed her. I knew where she was running. I knew the only place she could possibly go, but I was too late to save her. She's dying, and I was too late to save her."

Jinji glanced down, realizing exactly who it was. The tattoos along her arms were barely recognizable beneath the burned flesh of her body. But the long black hair singed at the tips, the olive tone of her skin, the large eyes now closed in sleep—it was Leena. It was the princess.

"I saw you," Cal said, still mumbling nearly incoherently. "I saw you, Jinji. I saw your ship, and I knew. You can help her. You must help her."

Jinji lowered, sitting beside them both. "Let me hold her, Cal. Let me save her."

He nodded, transferring most of the princess's body into Jinji's arms, but not all of it. Jinji couldn't help but notice that he held on to Leena's hand, cupping it gently in his and not letting it go. She said nothing.

Leena's head rested on her lap, and Jinji stroked her burned cheek before leaning down to whisper in her ear. "I'm here. First, you saved Rhen. Then, you saved me. And now it is my turn to save you."

With that promise spoken, Jinji closed her eyes, embracing the spirits in the air around her and focusing everything she could on Leena's broken body.

Heal.

It was all Jinji thought.

Heal.

Live.

Survive.

As the spirits wove tighter, Jinji sank deeper into the process. Every scrape, every break, every bruise she felt and mended, starting from the inside out. But it wasn't long before Jinji got a surprise.

A baby.

Not very large, barely anything at all, but Jinji sensed life in Leena's womb, perhaps young enough that not even Leena realized it was there. An innocent little soul, a flame so weak one puff of air would blow it out. A little girl, clinging to life just like her mother, a fighter just like her mother. And like her mother, Jinji would try to heal her too.

The outside world disappeared as Jinji continued to work. She forgot the king, forgot Cal, forgot the throne room. The burns were extensive. The damage was deep. But Jinji forgot all of that too.

Before she could heal Leena's body, she had to win the fight for her soul. Part of the shadow was still alive on the other side of the ether, the space between the shadow realm and the spirit world. And that part of him was tugging on the other side of Leena's soul, trying with all of his strength to yank the princess into the world of the dead, to tear her from the living. But Jinji refused to let that happen.

For the second time in her life, Jinji found herself transported into the ether, back into the body of the spirit dragon, fighting the shadow. The sensation was all too familiar—she remembered it and she didn't. Back when the Whylkin lords had rebelled against their king, back when she watched as Rhen's own mother stabbed him in the gut, back before she knew the shadow was Janu, back when she had first touched the shadow in the dining hall of the castle, Jinji had been brought here, to a fight that had been going on for centuries.

The last time she was in the ether, she had won. Jinji remembered now, the memory flooded back. It was how the spirit had been released into the world, how she had awoken with a voice inside of her head. And if she had done it once, she could do it again.

Jinji whipped her tail, slashed at the ebony dragon with her claws, going for blood. The body of the beast felt as natural as her own, just as familiar and just as deadly. Her jaws snapped around the shadow dragon's neck, and her wings pumped, carrying them higher, closer to the spirit world, the living world.

In that world, Jinji couldn't fight the shadow, couldn't fight her own brother—not yet. But here, in this space between, she would do everything she could for one win, for one way to let the shadow know he hadn't won.

Not yet.

Not ever.

2

RHEN

~ THE GATES ~

Rhen had only one thought on his mind—finding Jinji.

Okay, two.

Finding Jinji and the army of phantoms he had seen in the dragon's vision. Correction—the unstoppable army of phantoms he saw wipe out thousands of men in the blink of an eye in the dragon's vision. That army. And it was coming back. Soon.

"Come on," he whispered into the ebony scales blazing beneath his fingers. The wind whipped against his cheeks, hot from the flames encircling him and his dragon. It felt odd to think of them like that—as a rider and a dragon. To Rhen, they felt as one. One breath. One body. One soul. The wings pumping against air felt like Rhen's limbs. The snout always ready to breathe flames could be his own mouth. And they shared something else too—one mind. A mind forever changed.

Every time he closed his eyes, Rhen saw them. The people burning in his flames. Their pain was a part of him—it cut straight through his heart. Their cries still haunted his ears, and even now, he heard their howls in the wind. Rhen had made a promise to himself and to his dragon—never again. And he meant it. From now on, he was Rhen. Just a rider and nothing else. No allegiances to anyone aside from the beast below him, the woman he was trying to find, and the entire world he was trying to save. All people, not just some of them.

The peak of the Gates stood out against the clear-blue sky ahead. Pure ivory. He had no idea what waited for him there. Had Jinji found the shadow? Had she defeated it? Had she been defeated?

Rhen shook his head—he would know if she were dead. He would feel it in his gut. Yet still, he pushed harder, flew faster, unable to deny the doubt and fear building in the back of his mind.

He had left her.

Rhen had left her.

He had found his dragon, realized what it meant for Rayfort, and he had vanished almost without a second thought. Sure, Jinji had left him first, alone in that boat. Sure, she hadn't woken him to fight the shadow with her. But still, what if?

Rhen knew Jinji was strong, stronger than he was. He trusted her to be able to take care of herself. She didn’t need him, no matter how hard that was to admit. But he loved her. They hadn't said it, but he knew it deep within his soul. And the idea that she might have needed him, that he wasn't there for her, terrified him more than anything else could.

Rhen brought the dragon down in a giant swoop, landing hard against the white stone courtyard nestled into the mountains.

"Stay here," he murmured as he slipped from his dragon's back, stroking his side gently in parting. Unlike Ember, his unruly horse with a mind all her own, Rhen had no doubt his dragon would listen.

"Jin!" he yelled as soon as he was inside the castle walls.

Silence answered.

"Jin!" he tried again as he raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. But the castle appeared deserted. No bodies. No blood. No weapons strewn across the floor. Not even a chair tipped over or a curtain hanging out of place. The entire space was frozen in time. If Jinji had fought the shadow, it wasn't here.

But still, Rhen continued exploring, weaving in and out of rooms just in case he had missed something. Some sign. There was a dining area, bedrooms, living quarters with a fireplace, what appeared to be training rooms with desks and books. The more he wandered, the more intrigued he became. What had this place been used for? It was half a palace and half a guardhouse. There was even a courtyard that grew plants. It was overgrown and wild, but it held berries and foods all the same.

He found his way to a balcony near the top tower, and he looked out, spotting his dragon resting in the courtyard below, stark ebony against so much white stone. As though sensing his eyes, the dragon looked up, lifting his long neck, turning a red pupil on his rider in question. Rhen didn't even have to speak, as soon as he thought, come, the dragon was already unfurling his wings and lifting into the sky. As he neared, Rhen perched on the balcony rail. And then he jumped, not a single doubt in his mind that the dragon would catch him. Their bodies were one, always sensing where the other half would be at any moment.

As they flew higher, aimless at the moment, Rhen looked down at the mountain peaks below. Four openings spotted the stone, so unnatural. One was empty, but the other three held slumbering bodies just waiting to be awakened. One a silvery blue, one a dirty evergreen, and one so close to the color of the white stone Rhen could hardly make the body out—the air dragon, he was sure.

Rhen knew where Jinji had to have gone.

She was searching for the riders. She realized he had left her, and she went searching for the riders without him. Maybe the shadow had never been here after all. Maybe that had been needless worry all in Rhen's head. Maybe she had been fine all along.

A nagging doubt in the back of his mind couldn't be ignored.

Something had happened. Rhen was sure of it.

And he intended to find out what.

"Do you know where she is?" he whispered to the dragon.

Rhen didn't need to explain further. They changed directions almost immediately, wings sweeping in a large arc, heading south. Rayfort, he realized. Of course, she was in Rayfort.

As they flew, Rhen let his fingers brush over the rocky scales beneath his skin. Almost like coal, ebony black and rough to the touch, burning bright at the edges, revealing the inferno always raging within his dragon's core. Even now, without trying, a trail of flames lit up the sky behind them. Rhen pulled the fire beneath his skin, bringing the blaze to his hands and yanking the heat in, letting it fill him up.

"You need a name," he said suddenly, releasing the flames. The wind carried them back and blew them out.

The dragon didn't pause his flight, but Rhen felt uncertainty stir to life in the back of his mind, a foreign thought and yet a familiar one.

"Yes, you need a name," he repeated, patting the side of the dragon's neck with his hand the same way he would Ember, soothing the beast, making a connection. He enjoyed talking to his animals as though they were people, and no animal had felt quite so human as the one beneath him now.

Leaning down, pressing his whole body against the dragon's neck as though in sleep, Rhen listened to the heart beating deep within the animal's chest. The sound echoed in his own heart. And while Rhen couldn't say for sure, the dragon felt male, felt just like an extension of Rhen himself.

"How about Blaze?" he whispered.

A disgusted growl purred from the dragon's snout releasing hot flames that smacked Rhen directly in the face. Maybe he's more like Ember than I thought, Rhen mused, sitting up to think.

"Coal?" Rhen questioned, noticing the rocky scales beneath his hand.

The dragon dropped suddenly at a sharp angle, making Rhen lose his seat for a moment, suspended in air. He grabbed on tight, raising a brow.

"A simple no would suffice," he muttered and adjusted in his seat. "Okay…okay. Let me think."

It has to be strong, Rhen thought.

Reading his mind, the dragon gave a subtle approval. Rhen tried to push the beast out of his head for a moment.

And grand.

The dragon shot a little flame into the sky, flying faster with excitement. Rhen was on the right track. He thought back, mind unwittingly brought to Rayfort, to the damage Rhen had done on the back of this dragon, to the flames that had engulfed the enemies of his city, an unstoppable force. They had come from the sky, blazing down like a raging inferno, pouring flames across the battlements.

"Firestorm," Rhen said suddenly. "How's Firestorm?"

Rhen knew what the dragon would do a moment before he did it, so he held on tight, sinking low as the wings flattened against his dragon's side, sending them racing toward the sea below. Right before they slammed against the crystal water, the dragon changed directions, spreading his wings to flatten out and skim along the surface. And then they surged up as a thunderous roar erupted from his throat, sending a ring of flames in front of them, filling Rhen's vision. They flew directly through the fire, blue sky disappearing as angry orange and reds consumed his vision.

"Firestorm!" Rhen yelled, laughing, unable to contain the adrenaline pumping through his system.

When they broke through the bubbling cloud of fire, he saw Rayfort on the horizon. Immediately, his mood deteriorated. The city was a reminder of a memory he wanted to escape. No more than an hour or two had passed since Rhen had left Rayfort behind, and he had hoped it would be longer before he would return. But there was nothing to do but face it—face the damage he had forced Firestorm to do. The grass around the city walls was scorched black. The sea was littered with ships that had been burned apart, melted away to almost nothing. Bodies blackened and charred were everywhere, and Rhen's skin crawled knowing his actions had killed them all. He would spend the rest of his life trying to make up for that fact.

"Let's land, boy," Rhen whispered, patting Firestorm's coarse side.

They came to a stop next to something Rhen never thought he would see, a small boat resting in the courtyard of the castle, far away from the water.

Jinji.

He knew there was no other explanation. She was here. She was the only person in the world who could carry a boat so far from the harbor. And that wasn't all. Rhen had spent almost two weeks on that very boat, aware that every gust of wind against the sail carried him farther from his family, from his people, leaving them to their doom as the Ourthuri surrounded the city. He would recognize that boat anywhere.

"Prince Whylrhen," a guard called.

"Lord of Fire," another shouted.

Rhen closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He could no longer be the savior his people believed he was. Soon enough, they would come to realize that too.

"Just Rhen," he said back, turning to the men as Firestorm dropped to his belly and laid his head on the soft grass. "He means you no harm," Rhen called, noticing how they stared at the dragon with fear in their eyes. "Just leave him be. He will cause no trouble. I've come to find Lady Jinji and to speak with my brother."

"They're in the throne room, sire. They have been for over an hour."

Rhen needed no other prompting. He ran through the halls, stopping outside the throne room just long enough to realize it no longer had a door. Strange. But then he took in the scene inside. Two women were collapsed against each other, a heap on the ground, and Rhen knew exactly who one of them was.

"Jin!" he shouted, racing forward, dropping to her side and placing a hand to her head. It was feverishly warm and, behind closed lids, her eyes shifted back and forth, ticking rapidly.

"She's been like this for quite some time," a familiar voice muttered with concern. Rhen glanced up, noticing Cal for the first time. The man was one of his dearest friends, yet he was hardly recognizable. Cal, who always followed the rules. Cal, who always looked proper and put together. That same Cal was now covered in grime, cheeks stained with long dried tears, and his eyes were filled only with concern. But not concern for Jinji, Rhen realized, following the line of Cal's arm to the fingers holding a womanly hand, preciously cradling her burned skin.

I did that. Rhen shuddered. His concern for Jinji had tunneled his vision, but now his eyes were wide open. The woman Jinji held in her arms was barely recognizable. All of her skin was bubbled red and raw, burned black in certain places, angry and scarred. And Rhen's fire had done it.

He wanted to throw up.

Then he noticed her olive skin and long onyx hair, the faint remains of tattoos on her burned arms.

"The princess?" he whispered.

"I found her floating in the water," Cal murmured, voice scratchy and sore.

Rhen glanced at his friend. What had happened in Rayfort while he was gone? Cal had never even met the princess, and now he was watching her like his life would go with hers if she died, like the fate of his heart depended on her large eyes opening once more. But watching his friend, Rhen knew it was not the time to ask.

"Lady Jinji said she could heal her," Cal continued, voice growing more hollow. "She held her and for a few minutes it looked like she was getting better, but then Lady Jinji collapsed, and the two of them have been like this for longer than I care to admit."

"Where did you disappear to, brother?" another voice called. Whyllem. Rhen watched as his older brother stood from his spot on the throne, a smile spreading over his cheeks. "I thought you of all people would want to stay to celebrate the victory. After all, you're the one who won us the war."

"This was no victory," Rhen said harshly, running his hand over the princess's burned arm. How many others looked like her? How many others were in pain, dying from his flames?

"Our enemies are dead. I would call that a victory," Whyllem said, peering at Rhen strangely, with concern.

Rhen just shook his head, brows pulling together. "They weren't our enemies, Whyllem, not really. You don't understand, not yet. But you will. You all will."

"Rhen—"

"Stop," he interrupted, sensing Jinji stir beneath his palm. A small sigh escaped her lips, and her hand clutched the princess's tighter, as though she was struggling to hold on. Rhen cupped her cheek, unable to stop himself. Her features relaxed as though sensing his presence. The wrinkles in her forehead smoothed, and her full lips unpursed. "Leave us," Rhen continued, speaking to Whyllem alone. "Bring the baby and the women back to their rooms, celebrate victory with the men if you must, and then go out and assure the city that their king is alive and well, that the family of Whyl has survived. It will give them hope to see your face—it will help the healing process begin."

Whyllem paused. Rhen felt his brother's eyes boring into the side of his head, and he could guess what he was thinking. That Whyllem and not Rhen was the king regent. That he was the one who was supposed to give the orders. That father and Tarin would be disappointed to see Rhen act this way. That the people of Rayfort would want to see their Lord of Fire too. But Whyllem didn't need to say a word. Rhen knew all of that already. And for the first time in his life, he didn't care. All of the concerns that normally would have filled his head were gone, burned away by the fire. He had far more to worry about now.

Instead of speaking, Whyllem left, and the rest of Rhen's family followed behind—his mother, the queen mother, his baby nephew. He watched them go, knowing that the divide perpetually separating him from his family had just grown that much wider.

And with his eyes near the door, Rhen finally noticed another person in the room. A person whose face Rhen never thought he would see again. Older. More bedraggled. But the same—Jin the boy, somewhat grown up.

Rhen jerked back, brows coming together in confusion.

If Jinji was in his arms, Jinji the woman, how could she also be standing over there, hidden behind her magic?

"Who are you?" he said darkly.

The man watched Rhen with an equal amount of distrust, and his eyes fell to the spot where Rhen still held Jinji's cheek. "I'm Janu."

Rhen's gaze narrowed further. "Who are you really? Janu is dead. The Lady Jinji told me the story of his death herself."

"She is not the Lady Jinji. She is Jinji of the Arpapajo people. And she was misinformed."

But before Rhen could answer, Jinji sat up, wide-eyed and gasping for breath. He brought his arms around her, pulling her close. And without truly realizing it was him, she sensed it, curling into his side, breath calming the longer he held her.

"I'm here," he whispered, "you're safe."

He kissed her forehead, still sensing the eyes of her alleged brother watching them in fury.

"Rhen," she said weakly. But then her eyes closed once more, and she fell over Leena's body.

"Jin." He shook her shoulder gently.

"Wait!" Cal exclaimed, hand clutching Rhen's arm to halt his actions. Rhen followed his friend's eyes, noticing for the first time that the princess's skin was transforming. The heat blisters were shrinking. The ripples of melted skin were smoothing out, returning to their normal tan olive color. The tattoos encircling her arms were being painted back on. Different this time, Rhen couldn't help but notice, as the image of a dragon with wide wings appeared on her bicep, followed by crashing ocean waves. Rhen's brows drew close together, and then he smiled as the realization hit. Leena was the next rider—she had to be. Why else would Jinji be drawing dragons across her skin, branding her as such? Their fates had always been mysteriously tied with this woman, and it made perfect sense that she would be the next one called forth to wake a dragon—the water dragon, judging by the tattoos Jinji spun. Within minutes, the princess was transformed back to the beautiful woman he remembered her to be.

Jinji sat up, wearily this time, completely exhausted, blinking with some confusion. In her lap, the princess opened her eyes and rolled to a seated position, far more energetic than the woman who had just healed her. Leena ran her fingers up the smooth skin of her arm, marveling, before looking at Jinji with awe.

"Thank you," the princess said, nearly breathless. Before Jinji could respond, Leena noticed the fourth person in their small circle. In a heartbeat, her arms flew around Cal's shoulders, hugging him tight. Without any hesitation, he reciprocated, pulling her close, eyelids crushed together with emotion.

Rhen glanced at Jinji, smirking. She shrugged, unable to contain a little smile of her own. And then it was her turn to fling herself into the arms of a man she loved, and Rhen responded whole-heartedly, bringing his arms fully around her thin frame, enveloping her completely. Her lips pressed gently to a soft spot on his neck, bringing a sigh to his lips, and he stood without letting go, so her whole body pressed tightly against him.

Before Rhen could place the kiss he so eagerly desired against her lips, a cough broke her attention. Jinji shoved herself away, turning with wide eyes.

"Jinji?"

"Jin?"

Both men spoke at the same time. She cringed, shoulders bending just slightly inward, but enough for Rhen to notice.

"Rhen, my brother Janu. Janu, the friend I told you about, Rhen." Neither man offered a hand, but instead eyed each other warily. The use of the word friend hung in the air, unsatisfactory.

"So it's true. He's really your brother?" Rhen asked. Jinji bit her lip and nodded but didn't say more. "How?" he prompted.

Almost immediately, he saw the wheels in her head begin to spin, and it put Rhen on edge. He remembered that calculating stare, the one she used to use as Jin the boy, full of mysteries. But since finding out she was really a woman, he hadn't ever seen Jinji so careful with an answer. They never lied to each other, not anymore. But maybe they did now. And only one thing had changed—Janu.

"I'll explain later," was all she said. And then she hurried to Leena, pulling her away from Cal and ushering her from the room. Over her shoulder, she yelled, "Follow me."

The three men had no choice but to listen or be left behind. They listened—Cal first, then Rhen, then Janu trailing behind. In silence, they traversed the castle, not stopping until they were back through the front door, a few feet from the dragon slumbering on the grass. Rhen stepped forward, placing a hand to Firestorm's snout. Immediately, his red eyes opened with curiosity.

"What do you need us to do?" Rhen asked, already suspicious.

Jinji ignored him, turning instead to the princess. "Leena, this might sound crazy, but I think deep down you've always known you were meant for something more. And this is it. Rhen can explain when you get there, but a war is coming, and you will be on the first line of defense. We need you to become a rider, we need you to wake your dragon, we need you to help save the world."

Through the entire speech, the princess never lost her serene expression, her royal composure. Instead, her eyes darkened with excitement. "I dreamed of this," she spoke softly. "I thought I was dying. I thought it was the end. But then I had a vision of a molten dragon made of crystal ice and flowing ocean waves, and I knew somehow I would be saved. You saved me. I'm ready for what comes next."

Jinji wasted no time. She nodded, pleased with the response, and turned to an open spot beside Firestorm. Holding up her palms, the air before them all wavered, rippling with unseen currents, and a moment later, a large birdcage appeared, made of solid stone, something that couldn't be burned by fire.

Rhen watched with surprise. They had barely been apart for a day, but it seemed like Jinji had aged far more than that—her powers were much stronger than he remembered, and her confidence at wielding them was complete. Who was this woman standing before him? What was she hiding?

"Rhen," she said, spinning, golden flecks sparkling in her irises.

"I'll take her," he answered, not needing Jinji to actually ask the question.

She stepped closer, bringing her hands to his biceps, holding on tight while her beautiful brown eyes stared up at him, wide and trusting. "Take her to the water dragon, tell her what to do, and then come back to me. There is so much I need to tell you, so much that needs to be done."

"I have much to tell you too," he responded, mind thinking back to the vision his dragon had shared, to the army of phantoms that would rage across the land. Did Jinji know what the future held? He knew without asking that she did. He could sense the fear in the back of her mind, the urgency associated with the dragons. For now, he would listen without complaint, would help, but when he returned he needed some answers.

Jinji held his eyes a moment longer before glancing toward her brother. She looked back at Rhen. Back at her brother. Wavering, biting her lip. And then she acted before Rhen could even respond, jumping up to press a quick kiss to his lips, over before he knew it had begun.

But even after Rhen had climbed onto Firestorm's back, after the princess had nestled into a comfortable spot in the cage, after he lifted her into the air to make for the Gates, he couldn't rid his thoughts of Jinji's short kiss. He couldn't fight the nagging sense that her goodbye held something deeper, something more permanent. The warmth of her touch stayed on his skin, haunting him with an unspoken farewell.

3

JINJI

~ RAYFORT ~

Jinji watched Rhen fly away, unable to tear her eyes from the sky until the dragon, his rider, and the passenger underneath had disappeared completely from sight. Something about their kiss had felt different. While all the others had been infused with hope and promise, the lingering sense on Jinji's lips now spoke only of doom.

So she turned, trying to ignore the pit forming deep in her stomach, knowing there were more important things to be concerned with. But at the moment, she was at a loss for what those things were.

"Lady Jinji," a voice murmured next to her.

She looked over to Cal, meeting his nervous gaze. "Leena will be fine. More than fine."

He nodded, brows furrowed, and then looked up, clouds not completely gone from his eyes. "Will she still be herself?"

Jinji turned back to the sky, now empty, but the memory of Rhen and his dragon riding away came easily enough. Was Rhen the same? His arms felt just as sturdy as they held her close. His lips against her forehead were just as silky, just as comforting, just as warm. His voice held the same timbre. It still softened when he spoke to her. And her soul still smiled at the sight of him. Yet something about Rhen was different. Something she couldn't quite place.

Jinji glanced back to Cal, speaking more from the heart than the mind. "Yes, Cal. She'll no longer be a princess—she will be a rider. But she will still be Leena. She will still be the girl you have so clearly come to care for."

He blushed, cheeks turning pink behind the dirt smattering his skin. Jinji slid her gaze over his shoulder to the spot where her brother watched on, lips drawn thin. But she could do little to ease his concerns now. The world was much different than he remembered, and it would take more time than she could afford to lose to explain the changes to him now. Shifting her eyes to the left, Jinji peered through the front entrance of the castle wall, taking in the scene beyond.

Rayfort.

Somewhere out there, another rider might wait. Another rider might be injured. And Jinji didn't have much time left. The shadow had been so close to claiming Leena's life, dangerously close. No one was safe, not if they had an elemental affinity, not if they had the potential to wake the last two dragons—air and earth. And Jinji knew that in the fight ahead, the dragons were the only hope of victory. It was the only reason the shadow had not called his phantoms forth already. He was waiting. He was concentrating on finding all of her possible allies and destroying them. And when hope was gone, that's when the phantoms would come, that's when they would destroy whatever was left of the world.

Unless Jinji could stop him.

"What should we do now?" Cal asked, watching her closely, following her eyes.

"You stay here," she said, blinking, turning back to the two men beside her. "Wait for Rhen and Leena to return, stay with them in the castle until I'm back. We'll all need to meet with the king. I have some requests Whyllem will not want to hear, and I will need your help to make sure he does." Jinji paused, turning to Janu. "You can come with me. We are going out to the city, and we are helping."

If he had any protests about helping a newworlder city, Janu didn't voice them. He remained stoic, stone-faced, reminding her so much of their father. He followed silently as Jinji stepped through the front gate, and for the moment, she was content to let him stew. Her mind was already focused on the task ahead, and the spirits thrummed with anticipation.

The noble section of the city was mostly untouched. A fallen stone here. A broken window there. Discarded weapons littered the ground, but few bodies. The real destruction came after they passed through the next gate, entering the common area of the city. Almost immediately, the street became impassable. Fallen rock and debris covered the roads. Homes had collapsed. Boulders thrown from catapults had knocked clear paths through buildings. Bodies were crushed under the weight. A hand poked through a mound of crumbled stone, a foot, a leg. People walked lifeless through the city, unable to comprehend the devastation. All caused by human hands—there was not a trace of Rhen's fire here.

And though Jinji had told herself the mission was to search for potential riders and that was it, that she didn’t have time for anything else, the spirits came easily as she wove the carnage away, unable to stop herself from helping when she knew she could.

The stones blocking her path lifted into the air one by one, revealing what lay beneath—bodies, carts, horses, furniture, anything and everything imaginable. The boulders disappeared. The debris vanished. To either side, houses began to rebuild themselves. The walls stood strong, the windows were unbroken, wooden doors reattached to their hinges. The bodies, bloodied and unrecognizable, were wrapped in white cloth. Jinji shifted them neatly to the side, respectful, hoping someone might eventually recognize the faces she left uncovered, hoping their souls would be properly mourned.

With each flick of her hands, Rayfort was rebuilt. And the farther she walked, the more people began to follow. At first, they gasped and screamed, unsure what this woman with foreign skin was doing to their homes. And then they wept and thanked her when they realized she meant them no harm, when they realized she was restoring the city they loved. And after that, they walked behind her, a strange parade, watching transfixed as she used her powers to cure the devastation around them.

The spirits were strong in her eyes. The entire world became a swirling vortex of green, blue, red, and yellow strands, weaving and spinning, glowing with jinjiajanu, the bright mother spirit. And yet she wasn't tired. Using her gifts only gave her more energy to continue. But with each passing step, Jinji grew more disheartened. Not a single person she passed was encased in the elemental spirits, not a single person was a potential dragon rider.

By the time they reached the outermost wall of the city, a good portion of the streets had been cleared with her magic, and a good portion of the populace stared at her in awe. Janu acted like another spectator in the crowd, eyes wider than most as he watched his beloved sister become someone he didn't recognize. Jinji hated the shock in his eyes, hated how similar his expression was to the others in the crowd, to the people who viewed her as a stranger, as other. It was a harsh reminder that though they had once been two halves of the same whole, they now barely knew each other, something she hoped to remedy with time.

"Lady Jinji," a strong voice called.

She glanced up, finding King Whyllem at the top of the defensive wall, watching her curiously. And then her gaze dropped back to eye level, to the destination she hadn't even realized she was traveling toward—the city gate. The iron bar that once held it closed had been blown open, crushed beyond recognition. And through the broken doors, she could see that the grounds beyond the wall were blackened and charred.

Remembering the dragon's vision, her heart winced to witness the destruction his fire had caused. The destruction Rhen had caused. And though they hadn’t spoken of it yet, Jinji didn't need to hear the words to know he hated himself for what he had done. She was supposed to be searching for riders, but if Jinji were honest with herself, her real goal may have been this all along—to clear away any evidence of the fire's destruction and to ease Rhen's heart in whatever way she could.

"Where are you going?" Whyllem asked.

"To offer my aid," Jinji responded, meeting his eyes. Her voice held steady, everything about her screamed authority, even in the face of the king. And considering the audience around them, the hundreds of people that had come to a stop behind her, Jinji had no choice but to remain strong—to show Rayfort she was now in charge.

"To our enemies?" he said, taking each step down the wall slowly, never taking his gaze off of her. The sunlight glinted off of his fiery red hair, brilliant in the midday glow. He was a Son of Whyl. He was Rhen's brother. And he would hate her for what she was about to do.

"They are not my enemies, King Whyllem."

"The men who would kill my family, who would kill Whylrhen, the armies who nearly destroyed this city, they are not your enemies? Do you side yourself with traitors now?" Whyllem came to a halt right in front of her, wide chest towering overhead. Without looking, Jinji sensed Janu step closer.

"I do not see traitors on the other side of the wall," Jinji said, enhancing her voice with the spirits, letting the wind carry her words over the crowd. "I see innocent people in pain. I hear the cries of the dying. I feel the heat still lingering from the flames. I sense hundreds of human beings who do not need to perish. You have won, King Whyllem. Saving those men out there will not change that. So please, let me pass."

The crowd hushed in the silence following her words.

The only sound was the absence of it, the collective held breath of the city.

The wind blew overhead, a soft billow.

In the quiet, Jinji whispered, words she ensured only the king could hear. The space around them became a bubble, impenetrable by any ears but their own. "Whyllem. You can step aside and let me pass, or I can force you aside. Either way, I will leave this city. There is nothing you can do to stop me. All you can decide is how the people of the city see it happen—at the will of their king or in spite of it."

His eyes widened.

Then narrowed.

What little trust they might have ever had between them disappeared in that moment.

"You are much changed, Lady Jinji. Far different from the meek oldworlder nipping at my brother's heels. I thought you might be good for him, good for all of us. I see now I was wrong."

She swallowed, holding her face impassive. "Go back to the castle, Whyllem, and wait for Rhen's return. You speak without knowing the full truth, and I wouldn't want you to say anything else you might come to regret. I will meet you there when my work is done."

And then she stared at him, waiting, hoping he would make the right decision, the easy one. A moment passed. And then a wide smile spread across his cheeks. From a distance, his expression was friendly. Up close, his eyes were steel. Still, Jinji released a breath, relaxing.

"You are right, Lady Jinji," he called, loud enough for the people to hear. "Of course, you may pass."

At his words, the guards acting as a blockade parted, lowering their swords and shields, leaving just enough space for one body to slide through. The king stepped to the side, and Jinji passed with Janu following behind. The guards closed the opening as soon as they stepped through, resealing the city. But it became obvious that the precaution was unnecessary the moment she crossed over to the outer edge of the wall. There were no enemies left out here. There was not a single soul the guards needed to defend against. The fields outside of the castle were a barren wasteland of ebony char.

Jinji covered her nose against the smell and turned to Janu, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. He met her gaze as the kindhearted brother she knew he was, water pooling in his irises as well. As one, they clasped hands, each reaching to the other for strength.

"The dragon did this?" Janu asked.

Jinji shook her head with despair. "Rhen did this."

And then she held her free hand before her eyes, imagining the effects of the fire gone. Beneath their feet, the grass regrew, as green as ever. The black slashes marring the pristine white walls of Rayfort faded away, leaving unblemished ivory behind. Every crack in the wall sealed, every broken stone littering the dirt disappeared. Holes were dug deep into the ground around them, and it only took one glance for Jinji to see what they were filled with—spikes and dead bodies. She refilled them with dirt, burying the dead and the defenses. The blood staining the main road into Rayfort washed away as Jinji wove. She didn't stop until the only signs of war were the many bodies resting on the ground. Most were utterly still. Some were writhing in agony.

Jinji fell to her knees beside the closest man she could find who was still breathing and laid her palm against his cheek. He sensed her touch, cringing with pain and fear, but he could not see her with his eyes melted shut.

"Shh," she soothed, closing her eyes and reaching deep within the spirits. The power came easily now, quickly without the shadow fighting her on the other end. This man had no elemental affinity. He was not a potential rider, so the shadow didn't bother to give his soul a second thought. When she opened her lids, the soldier was healed beneath her fingers, peachy skin unmarred, but a haunt still darkened his gaze.

"Who…?"

Jinji pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I am just a friend who wants to help. I will heal every comrade of yours that I can, every man on this field. But you must do one thing for me in return."

He nodded and raspingly replied, "Anything."

"If any of your leaders still live, find them and send them to the castle. Let them know of the dragons, let them know of my powers, and let them know there is no place they could run that I could not find them. I intend to speak with them one way or another, and it will be much easier for them if they come willingly."

With each word, his eyes grew wider. But in the end, he gave a gruff salute and took off at a sprint down the main road. He only paused once, turning around in time to see Jinji bend over one of his comrades and heal him too. The sight was all it took to convince him of her earnestness—at least she hoped so.

Jinji continued to move at a slow yet constant pace across the field. For every one man she found still holding on to life, there were another ten to wrap in cloths and pile carefully to the side for identification. But she refused to stop, because every single life saved was worth the time and the energy. So she stood, walking to the next body, kneeling beside it and weaving it back to life. Over and over. Not speaking except to give orders, to tell the living to start taking care of the dead. Perhaps it was the strength in her voice, the magic she wielded, some sense of debt owed, but they all listened without complaint.

And after hours of moving from one to the next, not thinking of anything beyond the body beneath her fingers, Jinji almost screamed when a voice broke through her concentration.

Why bother to heal them now? You will not kill the shadow, and so they will all die, one way or another. Perhaps it would be a mercy to let them pass into the shadow world now. It will save them the pain of the phantoms doing it for you, the voice said.

After almost a day, the spirit was back. Jinji lacked the patience to deal with her, so she kept her head down, refusing to respond, focusing on using her powers to heal.

Don't tell me your heart is so soft you just cannot bear to witness their pain. I have felt your urge for vengeance before, have watched you kill a man with little remorse. You can't hide from me.

Jinji remained focused on the task at hand, not giving in to the voice's goading.

Or maybe you think this will keep the fire-user on your side. Maybe if you heal all of the people he's hurt, he won't hate you when he realizes what you've done, when he uncovers all of your lies.

The spirits faltered in her touch, refused to weave together as her concentration broke. The man beneath her groaned in pain, clutching his side where the nearly mended burns were now regrowing on his skin, flesh melting all over again as her healing strands broke apart. He opened his mouth to scream, but the pain was so deep that even sound escaped him.

"Shut up," she hissed.

That got your attention, the voice answered smugly. Is that why you're healing them? Really? So the fire-user will still love you. We both know that is an impossible dream.

Jinji sat back on her heels, looking down at the wounded man apologetically before turning her awareness inward, to the voice in her head who refused to back down. "I'm healing them because I can," Jinji whispered, not quite believing herself.

There is only one way to ensure your prince won't abandon you and that is to kill the shadow yourself.

"I won't," she murmured, eyes sliding to where Janu stood just fifty feet away. He had left her side a while ago and walked over to where he could be of use moving the dead onto carts, helping the men Jinji had healed with the task. But now he stood still, eyeing her strangely, as though sensing the turmoil in her mind. "I won't hurt him."

Jinji looked away, quickly healing the man below her before the voice could respond. He woke with a gasp, body shocked by the rapid change. But Jinji had to get away. She left the soldier alone, walking over the newly grown grass to the next body she could find, the next person she could help.

But what she saw changed everything.

This man was not burned to death. A fresh wound had killed him—a deep slash to the throat. The blood was barely dry. And there was only one person who Jinji knew used that fatal technique. Before Jinji could stop it, a vision of Maniuk flashed before her eyes—of the knife at his throat and the deep slash the shadow had commanded he cut.

My shadow-self has already been here, the spirit murmured, confirming Jinji's suspicions. The shadow was here, and he'd killed another potential dragon rider—a man with an elemental affinity who might have been able to wake the air or earth dragon. The shadow had beaten her yet again.

"No," Jinji gasped, collapsing to her knees.

Yes, the voice responded harshly. You waste your time healing people you have already condemned to death while my shadow-self continues to murder the only people who can defeat him, the riders.

"Saving lives is not a waste of time," she whispered, feeling the back of her throat clog, tightening her breath.

Look at the cut, barely ten minutes old. Touch it, the voice dared her.

Against her better judgment, Jinji listened, pressing her fingertips to the wound. They came back stained with red as the barely sealed slice opened anew at her touch. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

Yes, that's right. Feel guilty. If you had been searching for the riders from the start instead of saving all of these other people, this man might be alive. Another dragon might be alive. Instead, you healed the very body my shadow-self currently possesses. He is out there now, walking beside you, probably killing any other rider who might be on this field.

Jinji stood, spinning on her heels, searching. Where was he? But all of them looked the same, men of Whylkin, bending over bodies wrapped in white cloth, moving them and carrying them, helping to bury them. The only person who stood out was Janu, watching her with brotherly concern, his dark skin so obviously different from the men around him.

And then over Janu's shoulder, Jinji saw him.

The shadow.

Right behind Janu, where her brother could not see, he stood with his hip cocked, holding a knife, twirling it in his hands. Jinji didn’t need to see it any closer. She knew it was bloody without having to look, just like the shadow knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop him. Eyes as white as the Gates themselves, he just winked and held one finger to his lips for silence.

Janu turned around, following her gaze.

Before he could see, the man collapsed to the ground. Janu ran to help him back to his feet, completely unaware of what had occurred. But Jinji knew. And she knew where the shadow had gone. Not back to Janu's body. No. That would be too easy. He was gone, off to possess a new innocent, off to find and kill more riders.

He is taunting us, the voice grumbled.

Jinji closed her eyes, fighting to steady her hands and her breath. "It doesn't matter. I'll find a way to save them."

Who?

"All of them."

The voice laughed darkly, bitterly. You can't. Not like this.

"I will," Jinji said. "I'll save them."

Maybe if I leave you alone for a while you'll see. Even with all of my powers, you aren't strong enough to save them. Only one thing can...

The spirit trailed off, but no more words needed to be said. They both knew what that one thing was—killing the shadow. Killing Janu. In a blink, the voice disappeared. Jinji felt the absence like an abyss in the back of her mind, a dark hole drawing all of her hope with it, leaving only the doubts behind.

"I'll save them," Jinji whispered stubbornly. There had to be another way, a way that kept Janu alive, a way that ensured Rhen would still love her, a way that kept the two most important people in her life by her side. I'll save them, she thought resolutely, moving on to the next body on the field.

But he was already dead.

The next one was too.

And the third.

"I'll save them," she repeated, voice wavering. "I'll save them."

The world began to disappear until all Jinji heard were those three words, mumbled over and over again, a mad prayer. The spirits spun in her gaze. The field disappeared. The wall. Rayfort. The sea. The sky. The sun. All Jinji saw was one body, then the next, again and again, an endless stream. Walking on blistered feet, she healed those she could and forgot those she couldn't.

Always there were more.

Once the field was empty, Jinji reached the sea.

Bodies floated among the wreckage. She used the wind and the waves to wash them ashore. And then her walk continued. Some were men of Whylkin. Some were of Ourthuro. Tanned and tattooed arms blurred with the peachy tones, they all looked the same to her. Soon enough, she only saw two faces over and over.

Rhen.

Janu.

Rhen.

Janu.

One dead. Then the other.

But she would save them. She would save them all.

The sun began to set in the sky. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Again, harder, but she used the wind to toss the comforting fingers away. Nothing would stop her work. Nothing. She had to save them all.

"Jinji, you're scaring me."

She ignored the words.

"Jinji, please stop. You're bleeding. You're hurt. You've done enough for these people."

She almost paused. Almost. But then she found herself looking over another body, and she saw Rhen's face peering through soggy, melted flesh. There was an ounce of life left in the spirits circling his soul. She had to save him.

"Jinji…" The voice trailed off, or maybe she tuned it out. She was beyond understanding. Beyond caring. Hands gripped her bicep, strong, trying to tug her away from her work. But not stronger than her. No one was stronger than her.

"Jin."

And that one word, uttered by that one voice, was finally enough to break her. Rhen was there. He had returned. Jinji collapsed into the arms she knew would be waiting for her, and wept.

4

RHEN

~ RAYFORT ~

Rhen held Jinji while she cried, unable to match the wild-eyed woman in his arms with the confident one he had seen just a few hours before. Her feet left bloody footprints on the grassy field. Her eyes were wide and red, crazed. And she collapsed into him, holding his shirt with tightly bound fists, turning her face into his chest to tune out the world while she sobbed heartbreakingly against him.

He looked to Janu, who stood a little farther away, watching with gratitude lacing his weary irises.

"What happened?" Rhen mouthed, trying not to disturb Jinji, to let her have an uninterrupted moment to weep.

Janu shrugged, brows crunched together as he watched his sister in pain, unable to help. Then he shook his head, silently replying, "I don't know."

Rhen's gaze wandered farther, searching for answers. Jinji's touch was everywhere. Rhen had seen it hours ago when he and Leena had flown back on their dragons—the center street of Rayfort was cleared, rebuilt, far faster than human hands could work. And standing in this impossibly green grass, Rhen knew Jinji was the only person who could have removed the evidence of his fire's destruction. The scorched earth was regrown. The white walls were restored, no longer marred with soot. The bodies were neatly wrapped, hiding the burns. And many more than he dared hope were healed, walking around to clear their dead and find safe haven. Just looking around, his heart felt lighter. The darkness pinching his gut eased, a little easier to manage now that so much of the damage had disappeared.

Had she done all of this for him?

But there was something more. Something Rhen wasn't grasping. Because the woman in his arms now was barely recognizable. Did she take on the pain of others when she healed them? Had she overexerted herself? Was the desolation too much for her mind to handle? But none of those felt right. Not a single excuse matched what Rhen knew of her resilience, her conviction, her courage. Whether she had acted for his benefit or her own didn't matter. What mattered was that something out here had caused the strongest person Rhen knew to lose herself, and he shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't come looking for her, if he hadn't found her in time.

Before Rhen could ruminate any further, Jinji leaned back, wiping the wetness from her cheeks and sniffling softly. He lifted his palm, cupping the back of her neck, forcing her to meet his concerned eyes.

"Jin, what happened?"

She stepped back, ducking out of his grip. "Nothing." But her voice was not strong enough to convince him she spoke the truth.

"Jin," he pressed darkly, stepping closer. He wasn't going to let this go, not that easily.

She bit her lip, surveying the ground, before finally glancing up. Her golden-flecked eyes shone with honesty. Rhen relaxed. His friend was back. The person who would never lie to him was back.

"The shadow was here," she whispered, soft enough so Janu couldn't hear. "He killed another potential rider, and I couldn't stop him. Again, I couldn't stop him. And the next time we cross paths, I won't be able to stop him either. I don't know how."

He wiped the new tear that had fallen from her eye. "Shh," he hushed. "In one day, we've accomplished more than we ever dreamed. Two dragons have been woken. Yesterday, we were completely lost, we didn't even know the dragons existed, and today we are already halfway to our goal. Let's concentrate on finding the next two riders, and by the time that happens, we'll have figured out the rest. I promise."

She smiled halfheartedly. "You know everything, don't you?"

He grinned, infusing more confidence than he really felt, and replied, "You should know the answer to that by now."

"Oh, I do," she teased. "But I'm not sure you do."

"Hey," he chided, reaching for her.

But Jinji sidestepped his touch with a giggle, shaking her head. Before he could react, the air around her began to shimmer, the only warning he had that she was using her magic. Before his eyes, the cuts in her feet disappeared. The bloodshot veins in her eyes receded. The shadows darkening her cheeks vanished. The mud and grime covering her clothes and skin disappeared. She was a woman refreshed, the beauty he saw whenever he closed his eyes. But even with her magic, Jinji couldn’t erase the haunt in her gaze, the weariness and hopelessness she was clearly trying to hide.

Rhen kept his mouth shut.

He would let her pretend that the weight of the world could be stripped away with the wave of her hand. At least for now.

"We need to get back to the castle," Jinji said with a sigh. The two of them started to walk toward the wall. Janu followed behind, not really trying to catch up.

"That's why I came to find you," Rhen replied. "Whyllem is in an uproar. Two of the traitorous lords who helped lead the rebellion were delivered at the front gate an hour ago, bound by their own men. And a man of Ourthuro is there as well. Apparently, they were summoned by the magic dragon lady?"

Jinji glanced over apologetically, the corners of her eyes crinkling with nerves as she bit her lip yet again. "I sent for them."

Rhen raised his brows playfully. "What happened to my friend Jin, the woman who barely said two words to anyone other than me?"

Jinji shrugged. "She found out she had to save the world."

Rhen stopped, tugging on her arm. He placed a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "She doesn't have to do it alone," he whispered. She smiled. A real smile, one that lit up her whole face, making it seem as though the sun shone beneath her skin. "Besides," he continued, dropping her chin and stepping forward, "I quite enjoy seeing my brother put in his place. You've always been strong, Jin. It's time the whole world saw that too."

They spent the rest of the walk in a comfortable silence. Sometime during the journey, Janu caught up, moving to the other side of his sister. Rhen still didn't trust him, but Jinji did—that much was obvious. Yet something was wrong about the entire situation. Something didn't make sense. How had Janu found his way to the Gates? How had it taken so long for the two of them to be reacquainted? What was he hiding?

By the time they reached the castle, Rhen's mind was crumbling from all the unanswered questions swirling in his thoughts—about the phantoms, about the shadow, about Jinji, about what happened in those few hours they had been apart, about Janu, about his family, about the fate of the world. Every time he tried to sort out an answer, he was just led to another doubt. Knots upon knots upon knots he wasn't sure he would ever be able to unravel. And they continued coming until he feared his head would explode from the pressure.

"My dragons!" Jinji exclaimed by his side, excitement breaking through Rhen's sinking mood. At first, he was perplexed by the use of the word my. Firestorm felt like his dragon, and his alone. But a moment later, it was clear that wasn't the case, as both dragons landed softly in the courtyard, unfurling their wings protectively and leaning into Jinji's outstretched hands.

Rhen jumped forward, already pulling the heat of Firestorm's skin beneath his own, trying to protect Jinji from the fire always burning in the pit of his stomach. But as her fingers landed on Firestorm's scalding scales, no wince of pain crossed her expression. Her smile remained unbroken, and her palm continued to rub the dragon's skin, lovingly, without hurt. Her other hand went to the crystal blue dragon that couldn't have been any more opposite his own—scales as smooth as the sea on a calm day, skin so cold it froze the air around it, wings and tail tipped with shards of ice as sharp as broken glass.

Her dragons? Rhen thought, watching the affection between the three of them—affection that had history behind it, like old friends being reunited. How? When? And then he glanced up at the sky, exasperated. More questions. He sighed, hoping that these ones at least would have easy answers. Though he doubted it.

A moment later, Jinji lifted her hands, shooing the dragons away. They listened, pumping their wings, once, twice, three times, lifting into the sky and soaring out of reach.

"Sorry." She shrugged, meeting Rhen's baffled gaze. "I didn't have time to really see them before. I was too focused on sending you and Leena away, on waking the water dragon and finding more riders. But they're marvelous, aren't they?"

Rhen nodded, shock stealing the words from his mouth.

"Oh." Jinji swallowed suddenly, eyes flicking between Rhen and her brother, finally noticing the blatant confusion in their gazes. "Um, I remember them. From, well, a previous life. I sort of created them." Rhen's jaw continued to drop farther toward the ground beneath their feet. "It's too much to explain now…" Jinji trailed off, pausing. And then she straightened her shoulders, making for the castle. "Come on, the king is waiting."

Both men glanced at each other then shrugged, chasing after Jinji as she disappeared through the castle door. At least we've found some common ground, Rhen thought, mentally grinning. He didn't trust Janu. Janu clearly didn't trust him. But they could at least bond over a shared bewilderment of this new woman Jinji had become.

When they reached the throne room, the tension was palpable, heavy in the air. Whyllem sat on the throne with one of his father's former advisors by his side. Leena and Cal stood to the side, close together but not too close, not speaking either. An Ourthuri with black tattoos roping up his muscular arms watched the princess with daggers in his eyes. And two former lords of Whylkin stood in the opposite corner, hands still bound, shoulders sagging under the heated gaze of their king. Rhen recognized them as the Lord of Lothlian and the eldest son of the Lord of Airedale, a man who may very well have inherited his father's title overnight for all Rhen knew.

"Thank you all for meeting with me," Jinji said when they entered, voice confident and light, betraying none of the fears or the weaknesses in her heart.

"Are there any other enemies of my kingdom you've invited to my castle, to meet in my throne room, Lady Jinji?" Whyllem asked, poison on his tongue.

Jinji turned with a smile. "No, King Whyllem. This is everyone."

It took all of Rhen's strength not to burst out laughing at the sour look on his brother's face. Whyllem wasn't used to being put in his place, well, by anyone other than Rhen of course.

"I have asked you all here because we must end this war between you. Another war is coming to the kingdom, a far greater threat than you could even imagine, and we must fight it together. There is no room for petty quarrels between kings, not anymore."

Whyllem, the Whylkin lords, and the Ourthuri nobleman all began talking at once, voices rough and angry. Not a single word could be made out in the chaos, just the cacophony of men shouting over one another to be heard, arguing incoherently, a history of rivalry brimming to the surface.

Jinji held up her hand, summoning a burst of wind that swept through the room, ruffling the tapestries along the wall and stealing the sounds of voices from the air.

"Enough," she said, oozing authority. Rhen watched with raised brows, amazed at his friend. She was Jinji, and yet she wasn't—she was something more. A queen without a kingdom. No. A queen with the whole world as her kingdom. "You." She pointed to the two Whylkin lords. "You have lost the fight against Rayfort. Surrender your cities and your men to King Whyllem, rejoin the Kingdom of Whylkin, and continue to prosper as you have done for hundreds of years. You," she said, turning to Whyllem. "Accept these men and their people back into your kingdom with open arms, treat them as enemies no longer. Seek no vengeance. And you." Jinji turned to the man for Ourthuro. "Go back to King Razzaq and tell him what you have seen here. Tell him his war with Whylkin is over, and it will not start again as long as I am alive to witness it. If he so much as sends a warship into the Dueling Sea, I will send the dragons to Da'astiku. I will level his city and his people to the ground."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Rhen saw the princess step forward, opening her mouth. But then she thought better of it, pressing her lips tightly together, watching Jinji with a mix of trust and concern. He wanted to ease Leena's fears, to tell her the threat was an empty one, that Jinji would never harm innocent people just to prove a point. But listening to her now, he hardly recognized her voice. It was as unbreakable as iron.

"That goes for all of you," she continued. "I know you question my authority. You ask yourselves why you should listen to me. And the truth is, I don't have a specific answer to that. Should you listen to me out of fear? Should you listen to me because I could kill you with just a thought?" she questioned. A moment later, the air shifted. Out of nowhere, knives appeared at the throats of all five leaders, points pressing gently into the soft skin of their necks, just shy of drawing blood.

"Or," she continued, letting the weapons disappear. "Should you listen to me out of respect for the powers I wield? Because the world bends at my command?" The ground beneath their feet shook. Through the open window, the clear-blue sky disappeared as storm clouds gathered. Thick lightning bolts flashed and thunder cracked, loud enough that everyone in the room besides Jinji flinched. Even Rhen. But as quick as it came, it was gone, leaving them all breathless.

"Or should you listen to me for the greater good? To help save the world from the enemy I am about to show you?" As the words left her mouth, the room around them disappeared, flickering, growing fuzzy, replaced by an open field. Immediately, Rhen recognized the scene. He had been here before, in the vision his dragon had sent. "This is a memory of a battle long ago," Jinji said, sadness finally breaking through the hard tone of her words. "Of an enemy that has been gone for a thousand years, but is about to return. An enemy even I don't yet know how to fight."

On the opposite side of the field, a human army waited. Men who looked very much like those in Rayfort, armed with cruder shields and swords, but nearly the same. They held their weapons aloft, shifting on uneasy feet, waiting with a cloud of terror hanging overhead. Before a single man could even raise a sword to protect himself, a black mist descended, circling the entire army in shadow, taking over the field in an impenetrable ebony haze. Fire roared down, a heated blaze, and Rhen recognized his dragon, accompanied by his last living rider. Shards of ice and water came next, the water dragon. Hurricane winds blew into the mist, shifting it but not removing it entirely—the air dragon, nearly invisible in the sky. The ground shook and shifted, earth and rock moving as an evergreen dragon stomped heavy claws and breathed rock and dirt to life.

And even with the force of all four dragons, the phantom army held on just long enough. A few moments later, the black haze dissolved just as quickly as it had come, leaving utter devastation behind. The entire army of men was destroyed. Bodies littered the field, terrifyingly twitching as foam spilled from open mouths. Another second and the whole world was still.

The scene shifted.

The stillness did not.

Back in the throne room, not a single person spoke. Not Whyllem. Not Rhen. Not the Ourthuri. Not the lords.

Until finally, voice heavy with concerns Rhen could only begin to imagine, Jinji whispered, "That is what is coming for us. So whatever your reason for heeding my orders, fear or respect or courage, I don't care. All I care is that you listen without question because my riders and I are the only hope you have for survival. And no one and nothing can stand in our way."

"How do you know this demon is coming for us?" Whyllem asked, leaning forward. But the accusation and judgment was gone from his voice. Instead, his tone was that of a concerned leader. Rhen breathed a sigh of relief—his brother believed. His brother was going to listen. His brother finally understood who the real enemy was, what the real war was.

Jinji paused, unable to explain in simple terms.

Rhen stepped forward. "I have seen this vision too," he said. Jinji looked to him with relief, a thankful gleam in her eyes. And for the first time, he realized what a toll all of this leadership was taking on her. Being commanding, being demanding, it was not in her nature. Not in this way—she was gentler than that. He held her gaze for a moment, taking on some of the burden. "My dragon sent me a vision in fire. He showed me who the real enemy was, and that enemy is not in this room. He is out there, biding his time. The Lady Jinji speaks the truth, and you must listen to her."

"I have seen it too," Leena said, stepping forward, away from Cal. Her shoulders were back, her voice as calm and cool as any royal's could be, oozing the authority of her previous station in life. "Mine was a vision in the deep, dark depths of the ocean, but it showed the same. An enemy we must be united to defeat."

Whyllem glanced to Rhen, brows knotted in question. The poise of a king regent was gone from his face. Instead, his expression was open and honest. Just a brother seeking advice from the only other brother he had left. Rhen drew his lips in a thin line and nodded once, gravely.

He stood from the throne, bowing his head ever so slightly. "The King of Whylkin stands by you, Lady Jinji. I speak for the city of Rayfort and all of the people loyal to my crown. We will heed your orders for peace and will only respond to an attack if provoked. We will seek reconciliation rather than vengeance."

The Lord of Lothlian stepped forward next, bowing deeper—to Jinji and to Whyllem. "We rebelled against our king and lost in overwhelming defeat. I speak for myself as well as the other lords who fought by my side, we will surrender to the crown and end this war. We will pull back our remaining forces and will go home humbled, seeking no retribution."

All eyes turned to the Ourthuri on the far side of the room. "I am a nobleman of Da'astiku, but I speak only for myself and not for my king. I will return home with any other men of Ourthuro who survived the fires and will tell my king of everything that happened here. I will fight for peace, but I can make no promises."

"My father will not surrender willingly," Leena said quietly. Though the tone was soft, it was edged with steel. "But his fleet has been destroyed. Even if he wanted to fight, there are not enough warships to pass over the Dueling Sea. For now, he will be restrained by his lack of resources. And I plan to have a talk with him before his strength has returned. King Razzaq will not be a problem. The people of Ourthuro want peace as well."

"Good, then it's settled," Jinji said, pausing as a weight fell free. Rhen watched as her whole body visibly slackened, shoulders falling as her eyes grew weary.

"Not quite," Whyllem said, leaning forward. "There are measures that must be taken, the swearing of loyalties, the punishment of those who led the rebellion to ensure it does not happen again. Promises are words, and I would see actions taken before the conversation is over."

Jinji bit her lip, nodding thoughtfully. "I agree, but it's been a long day, and I need to rest. The details can be discussed tomorrow morning."

"Very well," Whyllem solemnly agreed. "Our guests will remain in the castle for the night, so we can resume the meeting tomorrow." And the tone with which he said it made it clear that those guests would be staying whether they wanted to or not.

But Jinji didn’t say anything further. She turned toward the door, eyes skimming over Rhen and then shifting to her brother. Before Rhen could rush to her side, she moved away from him, to Janu, reaching her arm out for her brother to take.

He tried to ignore the way his chest clenched at her rejection. What would he have done if one of his brothers had come back from the dead? Probably the same. He likely would've forgotten anyone else even existed. He swallowed the hurt back down, trying not to take it personally. Jinji would come for him when she could.

An arm came around his shoulder as the rest of the people began to file out of the room until only the two Sons of Whyl were left behind. Whyllem tugged Rhen through the door and into the hall, turning him away from the guest corridor and toward the royal quarters—away from Jinji and toward his family.

"That had to have been the fastest peace talk in history," Whyllem mused, no longer shrouded in the attitude of a king, just an older brother once more.

"Jin can be very stubborn when she wants to be," Rhen said, grinning to himself over the truth in that statement, over the many times she had been infuriatingly stubborn with him. But it was one of her many charms.

"Do you think it will hold?"

"I hope so."

"Me too," his brother agreed. "But if it doesn't, I still have the Lord of Fire on my side, right?"

Rhen sighed, heart sinking. "Whyllem, I cannot do that again. Not ever."

They paused in the hall. "You saved us, Rhen. You saved your family, your people, your dynasty. That is not something to regret."

"I don't," he said cautiously. And he didn't, not entirely. Guilt—that was the overwhelming sensation in his gut, guilt and thick coiling ropes of disgust. But not regret. "But I am a different person now. My allegiances have changed. And I can't put my dragon or myself through that again, not even to save your life. He might look like a monster, but he was created to save the world, not destroy it. We both were."

"Yesterday, I truly thought it was over. Everything our ancestors built, I thought my legacy would be to watch it crumble." Whyllem paused, holding Rhen's eyes, squeezing his shoulder in a tight, emotion-fueled grip. "But the people I love are still alive, the city I love is healing, the kingdom I rule is united once more, and it's all because of you. You've given us a new chance at life, Rhen, and I promise I will not waste it. I will not put you in the position where you have to choose between your soul and your family ever again."

They stayed like that for a moment, connected.

Rhen could hardly believe his brother's words. For the first time in his life, he felt accepted by his family for who he really was, not for who he was trying to be. His throat grew thick with unsaid feeling. His eyes began to burn. And a warmth sprouted deep in his chest.

He coughed, covering the rising tide of emotion.

Whyllem, he noticed, did the same.

"I think I could use some ale," Rhen muttered.

Whyllem slapped his back with agreement. "Come, spend some time with your nephew, the future king, before he's put to bed for the night, and then we'll have some ale. I could use a pint myself."

In that moment, there was not a plan in the world that sounded better. So Rhen stepped forward with his brother, forgetting the doubts and the burdens that had weighed him down all day. Tomorrow, there would be time for that. Tonight, he would make time for his family because if the past few weeks were anything to go by, he had no clue where the next morning might take him.

5

JINJI

~ RAYFORT ~

Jinji led Janu by the arm, hurriedly stepping from the throne room. It took all of her focus not to look longingly over her shoulder back toward Rhen. But she and her sibling needed this, needed time to be alone together, to regrow their bond after so many years apart. There was so much she wanted Janu to know, so much she wanted to share. And there was so much she wished to learn of his life, of his trials, his hopes for the future. And though she hated to admit it, she needed to figure out how much Janu knew of the shadow and the plan fate had in mind for them.

"Where are we going?" he asked as they traversed the castle halls.

"To your room, to talk," she said, smiling encouragingly in his direction.

He nodded, glancing around. "When we were young, I never imagined places like this existed. But it's odd to realize white stone walls have become more familiar to me than tan hides pulled tight across a wooden frame. You make me think of home. Of how it used to be."

Jinji squeezed his hand tight, swallowing the block in her throat back down, noticing the red strain around the corner of Janu's eyes and the heaviness with which he spoke. "You make me think of the old days as well," she whispered. "I miss the forest. I miss how simple life used to be."

He silently agreed.

They didn't need to speak after that. Not for a while. Each sibling got lost in their own memories, their own overwhelming nostalgia. When Jinji pulled open the door to Janu's room, it felt so heavy compared to the hide they used to shift aside to enter their home. When they entered the space, it felt so stale compared to the old hut thrumming with the sounds of billowing wind and shifting branches outside. And when she looked at the bed, it was so plush compared to the crude wooden pallet they used to share.

Jinji dropped Janu's hand, wandering to the window and opening it wide, letting a little fresh air in. And then she joined her twin on the mattress, resting opposite him the way she used to as a little girl, holding out her hand in the dark and waiting for him to take it. He did. The fingers she held were longer than she remembered, thinner, more callused, and yet she couldn't remember a moment that felt more perfect in her life, more right.

"Do you remember how angry Father used to get when we'd keep him awake in the night, whispering secrets to each other for hours, barely pausing to breathe?" Janu asked. Through the moonlight, Jinji saw a small smile grace his lips, a sad one.

"And Mother would tell him to ignore it, to go back to bed," Jinji added.

"But five minutes later, he would be up again, grumbling at us to keep it down."

"Which only made us laugh louder."

"And only kept us up longer."

Jinji grasped his hand tighter. "Do you remember when we used to sneak out in the night?"

He nodded against the pillow, eyes shining bright. "That's when I taught you to use a bow. And we used to swim in the pond, meeting Leoa and Maniuk and the other children while all of the elders were fast asleep."

"Mother confessed to me years later that she always knew when we left the hut, that we were never as sneaky as we believed ourselves to be. Our parents would take turns watching from the trees, just in case anything happened, protecting us."

"Really?" he asked, disbelieving. "When did she tell you this?"

Jinji's breath hitched. Until this moment, she had forgotten the memory entirely, had suppressed it. "She told me on the," and then she stopped, voice cracking. Jinji coughed lightly, clearing the block in her throat, unable to remove the fragility from her tone. She continued, barely whispering, "Mother told me that on the anniversary of your passing. I was fifteen, and even after all of those years, the guilt never lessened. She said she always heard us leave, always woke up to the sound of our feet pattering against the dirt. And the only time she didn't was on the night that you died, or well, the night we all thought you had died. She never forgave herself."

A tear rolled down Jinji's cheek. She noticed water on Janu's face as well and watched his skin glisten in the moonlight. They were mirror images of one another, same bone structure, same skin tone, same somber expression. Twins. Two halves of one whole, reunited once more. But at what cost?

"That night, it was the first time he took control of my body," Janu murmured. Jinji strained to hear his voice over the soft breeze slipping in through the window.

"The shadow?" she asked.

"The voice, yes, I guess you could call him the shadow." Janu shook his head, shuddering, closing his eyes against the memory overwhelming his thoughts. "I was confused. I don't remember leaving the hut, leaving you. I woke in the middle of the forest, alone and covered in dirt. And then the world went black. I woke again later in a house, stolen food on the ground at my feet and a horse by my side. The world went black on and off for a long time after that, many months of never knowing when I would wake, where I would find myself, what I had done. Eventually, I woke in the great palace at the top of the Gates, and that's where I stayed for more years than I care to remember."

"And you have no memories of how you got there?" Jinji asked, heart squeezed painfully tight with sympathy and sadness for his stolen life. "I remember every moment of losing you. I woke in the middle of the night, spurred awake by a terrible nightmare, and you were gone. I knew you were dead, I sensed in my bones that you were somewhere beyond my reach. Father sent out the hunters, and they returned with the remains of a great bear and a tiny body ripped to unrecognizable pieces. A body I now realize must not have been yours, but some other child the shadow needed to use."

"I don't remember everything," Janu said, turning away from her to gaze up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, fighting his inner turmoil. "Mostly I remember the pain. Getting into the Gates is no easy feat. I nearly died, over and over again. I came close to drowning. I broke my bones crashing into the rocks. But the voice, he said he controls the souls of the living, controls when they move on to his world. And no matter how close I got to death, he hung on. He wouldn't let me pass over. He said I was needed at the mountain castle, that I would be safe there. And I was, in body anyway, once the initial wounds healed. So secluded from the world, there was no one who could harm me. No one I could talk to. I lived off the vegetables in the gardens, taught myself to tend to them, learned how to read through the books in the library."

"And the shadow was your only companion for all those years?" Jinji shivered at the thought. What lies had the shadow placed in her twin's head? What visions of death and destruction?

"Yes. He was my friend and at the same time, my worst enemy. We talked frequently, debated, and shared stories. But more often than not, the voice showed me things, terrible things he'd done when he was not in my head. Sometimes when he controls my body, he lets me see what he sees, to taunt me I think. When you came to the palace, I was there for a few moments, watching powerless, unable to do anything. Unable to hug you the way I wanted to. Unable to cry the happy tears I wanted to cry. He lets me see flashes, and then he blocks me out at other times, when he doesn't want me to be aware of what's going on."

Jinji bit her lip, uncertain. Now was the time to ask Janu what he knew, what the shadow had revealed. Yet at the same time, she was terrified of the answer. What if he knew what she had to do? Would he hate her? Would he hate himself? Jinji swallowed, tugging on Janu's arm. He shifted his gaze back to her, letting his head fall to the side. His brown eyes were dark with worry, clouded with concern, stitched with fear.

"Janu?" she questioned softly. His expression didn't change. He still looked at her with a bleak stare. Her heart pounded, impossibly loud in her chest. But if her brother noticed her anxiety, he didn't say anything. He waited for the question they both knew was coming. "What has the shadow told you? What do you know about me, about the coming war, about how to defeat him?"

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "He speaks of his spirit-self often. He hates her, Jinji, and he loves her too. And though I've witnessed firsthand the evil he has committed, I can't help but sympathize with the thoughts I've been hearing for nearly a decade. I know what it feels like to be alone, to be abandoned by those you love most, to be forgotten. I do not resent you or our family. I know you were tricked into leaving me behind. But I understand his sentiments because for a long while, I felt them too."

"I never forgot you," Jinji rushed to say, sitting up and looking down at Janu sadly. If he only knew how often she thought of him, how many times she sat alone in that clearing, weaving pictures of the brother she had lost so many years before. If he only knew how her heart hurt for so long, how it throbbed with missing him, breaking over and over again for years.

"I know," he said, shifting, turning away toward the window, unable to look at her. "I know that now, but you don't understand what it was like. The voice would visit the tribe often, he would show me visions of you laughing and happy and smiling. And I knew you would never stop loving me, but I knew you had moved on as well. Yet I was stuck, I couldn't move on from the thoughts he whispered in my head."

"Janu," she whimpered, throwing her arms around his shoulders, not letting him move any farther away. "Please, you must know I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped missing you. Never."

He turned, hugging her close. "I know," he mumbled, voice muffled against her shoulder.

Jinji pulled back, brushing the tears from his cheek, holding his face with her palm so he could not look away. "We are together now, and that's all that matters."

He smiled, reaching up to hold the hand cupping his cheek, clutching her fingers as though his life depended on it. "I know, Jinji. And we'll never be parted again. Whatever you need to do to rid this poisonous voice from my mind, whatever you need to do to defeat this phantom army, I promise I will help. I will do whatever it takes to stop the shadow, to make things go back to the way they were."

Jinji held her features steady, using all the strength she possessed not to move a muscle. But inside, her chest sunk, caving in as though punched. Inside, her soul was crumbling. Because she knew, with those few innocently spoken words, that Janu had no idea that his life was the very thing keeping the shadow in this world. Part of her was relieved. Part of her was terrified. But all of her hung on the edge, wavering.

Glancing at his open, honest eyes, Jinji didn't know if she could keep lying to him. The part of Janu that was still her brother, that was good, was kind, was unmarred by the shadow—that part deserved to know the truth. He deserved to make his own choice. But the very idea terrified Jinji because she knew deep in her heart that if Janu knew ending his life would save the world, he would do it. Without hesitation. There would be no choice to make. The guilt would destroy him. Janu would not be able to live knowing so many people died to keep it that way. And she wasn't ready to lose him. Not yet. Not ever.

So instead, the guilt coiled her insides, wrapping impossibly tight, suffocating her. People would die because of her. The world might end because she couldn't bring herself to weave a knife in her hand and stab him right here, right now. In one move, the whole war could be over, at least for a time.

But even as she thought it, Jinji knew there was no way she could follow through. The very idea of ending Janu's life made her ill. And it wouldn't be as easy as stabbing him in the heart, the shadow would see to that. If she tried to kill Janu, it would be a battle, nasty and unclean, a fight to the death in the ether. She would have to want it with all of her heart, an impossible task.

Yet sensing him next to her, alive, Jinji couldn't bear to look at him. In his face, she saw herself—saw her failure. Nausea swirled in her gut. The urge to vomit was overwhelming. And the longer she tried to meet her twin's warm gaze, the longer she thought of the impossible choice at hand and the more painful the feeling grew.

Jinji jumped to her feet, releasing Janu and stumbling back. "Why don't you rest? It's been a long day."

"But…" He trailed off, watching her with concern. There was nothing she could hide from Janu even after so many years apart. He watched her closely then nodded, understanding filling his irises. "We'll find a way, Jinji. I sense your terror with each breath you breathe. You can't hide your fear from me. But this voice in my head, it can be defeated. He's been scared before, I've sensed it. And he would have no reason to be afraid if he couldn't be destroyed somehow."

"Oh, Janu." Jinji sighed, biting her lips to keep from saying anything more. He trusted her, naively, completely. But the sympathy oozing from his body language just made her heart clench, throbbing with the sharp slices of her betrayal.

Jinji needed to get out.

She couldn't stand another minute of his compassion.

Couldn't stand lying for one second longer.

"Sleep, sister," Janu murmured, stretching out on the bed, turning away and leaving her be. "You need to rest your weary mind, to clear it of these dark fears. There will be more time later to talk, to share memories of what we have missed."

It was all the dismissal she needed.

Jinji ran from the room.

Down the hall.

Around a corner.

Down another hall.

Farther and farther. But the more she ran, the more she realized there was no escape. There was no way to outrun her own mind. So she stopped, collapsing against the wall, heaving in deep breaths, drowning. The world twisted into a spiraling vortex as she sank to the ground, crumbling to a pile of limbs on the floor. The castle stones disappeared. Her vision grew blurry until all she could see were visions of her own failure.

Janu had been through so much pain. She could only imagine the horrors the shadow forced him to relive, the terrifying memories he'd endured over the years, the mental drain of living in isolation, aware that everyone you knew continued living without you. And yet, Jinji hadn't been strong enough to give him a few hours of peace, of solace, of happy memories to hold on to.

No.

The shadow had crept into their time, had tainted it. She could not erase him from her mind, could not erase the corner he had backed her into. And the voice of the spirit echoed in the background of her thoughts.

There is only one way to end it.

One way to save the world.

Kill the shadow.

Kill it.

Kill him.

Jinji closed her eyes, dropping her head back against the stone. Tomorrow would be another day. Rhen was right. Who knew what the morning would bring? Only a little over a day ago, they had been on the run from the Ourthuri war ships. Rhen was certain his family and his people would die. And yet, here they were now. Two dragons with riders. A new peace about to be finalized between the kingdoms. A lot could happen in a day. Her world had been flipped utterly upside down in a day, who was to say it couldn't be righted in another one?

The panic began to subside.

Her heartbeat slowed as her breath lengthened.

Her vision came slowly back into focus.

Her thoughts smoothed into manageable snippets.

Jinji stood, wiping the dust from her pants, swallowing deeply and clearing her throat. Janu hadn't deserved such a rushed exit. She would find him, she would apologize to him, and she would spend the rest of the night learning about his life no matter how sleepy it would make her in the morning.

He deserved it.

They both did.

But a moment later, Jinji quickly realized the world had other plans for her.

"Jin!" a very slurred, very loud voice shouted down the hall.

Jinji spun with brows raised, trying hard to cover the smile on her lips as Rhen appeared at the other end of the hall. His lids were drooped, his lips were parted in a goofy grin, and his blazing red hair was in complete disarray.

"Are you drunk?" she asked with disbelief. But he didn't need to mutter a word to prove her accusation true. The precarious steps he took closer, shifting from side to side as though a straight line were completely beyond him, were proof enough. "You are drunk," she charged mirthfully.

"Blasphemy!" he shouted playfully. "I demand you take that back at once."

She crossed her arms, staring at him. "I leave you alone for a few hours with your brother and this is what happens?"

"You and your brother didn't do the same?" he asked. "Damn shame."

And then he smiled ruefully.

Jinji stepped back, narrowing her gaze.

It only spurred him on.

A moment later, he was charging at her full speed, gait unbelievably nimble considering the breadth of his shoulders. Though she turned to run, Jinji knew she had no hope of escape. Not even three seconds later, an arm came around her waist, scooping her up by the midsection and tossing her over a considerably muscular shoulder.

"Rhen! Put me down," she cried, knocking her fists against his back.

"I rather like this view," he said nonchalantly, shrugging as his hand crept a little farther up her thigh, sending a wave of heat over her skin.

"Rhen," she murmured, halfheartedly protesting just to continue the game a little longer. "I could force you to put me down. My muscles might not be very impressive, but you and I both know I have other tricks at my disposal."

"I am at your mercy, my lady," he sighed, "for I would pursue you to the ends of the earth if I had to."

"Rhen," she whispered. And even in his drunken state, he heard the subtle shift in her tone, the passionate lilt to his name as it rolled off her tongue.

In one quick motion, Rhen shifted his hold, no longer throwing Jinji over his shoulder but cradling her in his arms. His piercing eyes transformed from the emerald of a grassy field to the evergreen of a forest at dusk, sparkling with moonlight as the thoughts behind those irises shifted. Her arms came around his neck, and Jinji pressed her forehead to his chest, realizing there was no place that she fit quite so well as when she was cradled against his side, snuggled into the nook at the base of his neck. There was no place she liked better.

Jinji didn't have to ask where they were going, she knew. And not one little bit of her could mutter even a sigh of protest. Thoughts of Janu were flung from her mind, replaced with a need she had never known she'd had until she'd met Rhen, until their lips had touched at the top of that seaside cliff, awakening desires that still made her blush.

"It's been too long since I've had you to myself," he whispered, lips brushing her forehead while he spoke, sending shivers down her spine.

She giggled nervously. "It's only been a day since I left you on that boat."

"It feels longer."

"It does," she agreed, closing her eyes, listening to the rhythm of his heart in his chest. Slightly fast, getting quicker.

They stopped for a moment outside his door. Rhen placed her gently on her feet, reaching for the torch on the wall. Jinji followed him inside, standing still as he lit the candles around his room, focusing on how the fire flickered against his skin. When he was done, he closed the door, leaving them alone.

Suddenly, her nerves prickled, raising the hairs on her arms. Jinji shuffled to the window, looking out at the sleeping town below, at the half-full moon overhead. Hands came around her waist as Rhen slipped behind her, pulling her close to his chest. She hugged his arms tight, letting her head fall back against his sturdy torso, sighing, content. But inside, her heart raced. For the first time since that first kiss, they weren't on the run. She wasn't injured. He wasn't afraid to touch her. And the air around them sizzled with unspoken promises.

But there was something else too, something holding her back. Other unspoken words, but these were questions. Questions they both needed answered before anything further could happen.

"Rhen?" she asked.

"Mmm?" he murmured.

She spun in his arms, needing to look into his eyes. "First thing tomorrow, we need to search for the riders. We need to leave Rayfort. There is no one here who can help."

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, eyes sharp and focused, no longer fuzzy with drink.

"Where do you think? We need the earth rider and the air rider. You know this kingdom better than I do."

He glanced to the side, thinking, but his hands tightened around her waist, not letting go even as his mind wandered. "Fayfall might prove promising, with the intricate cave systems. I would imagine someone with an earth affinity might find themselves at home underground."

She nodded. "Fayfall it is."

They fell silent. But she could read the questions in Rhen's mind, waiting unsaid. And they needed to be asked before either of them could move forward, could move on. Though the words almost caught in her throat, she spoke them quickly with trepidation. "You can ask me anything, Rhen."

He only said one word, but it was enough. "Janu?"

Jinji chewed her lip. She wanted more than anything to tell him the truth, but she couldn't—not yet. Instead she whispered a lie, a half-truth. Something close enough to fact that he would stop asking questions, but far enough away that he would never realize what Jinji was trying to hide. "He's just a victim, same as us," she started carefully. But meeting Rhen's earnest gaze, she forced herself to continue, knowing there was no going back. "The shadow has been possessing his body since he was a boy, same as the other men we've seen the shadow take control over. He faked Janu's death, led him away from home, and nearly killed him on the journey to the Gates. The shadow has been hiding him there ever since, keeping him from me. Even when I was a little girl, the shadow was thinking of ways to terrorize me. Stealing Janu away, keeping him alive, it was just one of those devices, one of many that I don't fully understand."

She didn't mention the shadow's true body.

Didn't mention that killing Janu would end the shadow too.

Didn't mention that Janu and the shadow were one in the same, connected in life and death, inseparable.

Rhen believed the lie. He did even pause as he moved on to the next question, not doubting her words as truth for even a moment. "And your magic?" He asked. "It's so strong, far stronger than I remember."

"I've told you of the spirit that lives inside my mind?" Jinji questioned. Rhen nodded, visibly thinking back to their conversation deep in the depths of that underground fortress where they had discovered the painting of the dragon. It’s where Jinji confessed to hearing a voice in her mind, confessed to sharing her body with another soul. "I opened my mind to her, and she has taught me a lot about the powers we wield. She's shown me visions of the past, of the dragons and riders who once rode them, and visions of what is to come if we cannot find a way to defeat the shadow."

He nodded, satisfied for now, waiting for Jinji to take her turn. But she already had an answer to her question. Jinji knew Rhen, and one look in his eyes hours ago was all it took to see the guilt gnawing at his heart. He knew that he could not use her dragon that way again, he knew they were meant for things far greater than destruction. She didn't have to ask.

Instead, she reached up, sliding her palms over his shirt until they touched the warm skin of his neck, holding him. Her fingers slid into his hair, caressing him. And he melted under her touch.

"Rhen?" she whispered.

He nodded, eyes growing hooded as they watched her, burning brighter than even his dragon's flames.

"I want to tell you something," she murmured, glancing away from the heat in his gaze, unable to handle the smolder. Her eyes danced over his face, taking in the freckles spanning his cheeks, the strong outline of his jaw, the gentle curve of his soft lips. "I don't know what will happen tomorrow. I don't know if it will end with you by my side or with you soaring away from me." At the very idea, he opened his mouth to protest, but she stilled him by placing one finger against his lips. "Until this war is over, we'll be living day by day, never sure of what hardships the next sunrise might bring. So I want you to know something—something that will never change despite the challenges we may face. Something the shadow cannot take away. Something I promise you will be true forever."

Jinji paused, taking a deep breath.

Her heart raced in her chest.

She licked her lips.

"I love you."

His eyes softened. His hands gripped her tighter, pulled her closer. He lowered, bending their faces together.

In the small space between their lips, he whispered, "I love you, too."

And then he kissed her.

But this time, it was full of hope, full of promise, full of passion.

6

RHEN

~ RAYFORT ~

Rhen woke alone with the memory of holding Jinji all night little more than a dream. A good dream. A great one. He stretched, not bothering to hide the grin spreading his lips. He doubted he could stop it even if he tried, and he didn't want to.

He felt well rested.

Too well rested.

Rhen sat up quickly, eyes finding the window. The sun was bright overhead. The city was wide-awake.

"The gods!" he muttered, jumping from the bed and stumbling to his closet. It must be almost noon. Why hadn't anyone woken him? He pulled a shirt over his head and nearly fell over trying to shove his boots over his feet. In little more than a minute, he pushed his door open and began racing down the halls, running faster when he heard the echo of voices coming from the throne room.

Rhen burst through the door, greeted by multiple sets of wide eyes.

Followed by multiple rounds of suspicious throat clearing.

"Why did no one wake me?" he blurted, scrunching his brows, glancing from Jinji to his brother accusingly. The room was mostly empty now. Only Jinji, Janu, Whyllem, and Leena remained. But Rhen knew, he just knew, he had missed something. The mood was too jovial, too settled.

"It's my fault," Jinji said, stepping forward, shrugging apologetically. "I thought you could use the sleep. Besides, I tried to wake you once, but you were out like the dead." He rolled his eyes. "Whyllem suggested we use a bucket of water, but I decided it was best to let you rest."

"Can't handle your ale anymore, brother?" Whyllem teased.

Rhen chose to ignore the bait. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Jinji murmured suspiciously, body turned slightly away from him, tone far too leading.

"What?" he grumbled.

"We met with the traitors again this morning," Whyllem began, but then Jinji threw a stern look in his direction. He held his hands up, warding her off before the magic swirling in her gaze became a reality. "We spoke with our guests again this morning. All the cities that aided the rebellion will owe debts to the crown, and each will have royal guards and advisors placed in their castles until I am satisfied that all urge to betray our family is snuffed out. The Whylkin lords are to summon their entire surviving army, and one by one, each man will swear loyalty to the crown before the city of Rayfort. All but one—the Lord of Roninhythe, who went missing as soon as your dragon appeared over Rayfort. We have agreed that he is to be charged with high treason for the murder of the king and the plotting of the rebellion, and he has been sentenced to death."

Rhen sucked in a breath, not with surprise but with concern. His eyes roamed, searching for his friend. "Cal?" he finally asked, finding no trace of him in the room.

This time it was Leena who stepped forward, placing a hand to his shoulder. Her wide eyes pierced, shaded with the same unease that currently tightened Rhen's chest. "Cal has volunteered to lead the search for his father. He wants him brought to justice, to pay for his crimes." She swallowed, the only break in her poise. "He left this morning with a group of men on horseback, promising that he won't return until his father is found."

"And then what?" Rhen demanded, turning to his brother, expression sharp. "He will still keep his title and his lands? Please, Whyllem, he is innocent in all of this. He is my friend."

Whyllem nodded, understanding. "That has yet to be decided. But I do not intend to make the sins of the father the sins of the son as well. We will work out a solution that satisfies us all, even Calen, I promise."

Rhen glanced at the princess again. He didn't know what was going on between his best friend and this woman, but he did know one thing. She was a fighter, and she would not have allowed Whyllem to do anything that would hurt Cal, even if he were the king. From what he remembered of Leena, she had little affection or respect for authority. Especially kings.

"And what of Ourthuro?" Rhen asked. The princess blinked, turning away from him, swallowing as her gaze narrowed and focused on the opposite wall. Everything about her changed in an instant—everything about her grew hard, merciless. But it wasn't Leena who answered his question.

"I rebuilt a ship this morning," Jinji said, pulling his attention from the princess. "All the men who survived have set sail for Da'astiku, and the nobleman we spoke with said he would do his best to relay our message to King Razzaq. It will be up to the king to decide their fate." Jinji paused, gaze shifting to the princess. And Rhen had the feeling she had said these words before. "There is nothing else we can do, not now."

"They will be made into unmarked," Leena whispered harshly. "All but the best warriors will be turned to slaves, tortured. My father does not take failure kindly."

Rhen nudged her with his shoulder, gaining her attention. She was tall, height almost even with his own, and her eyes met his dead on. "Once the war is over, you can undo what he's done. At least, you can try. King Razzaq will be yours to do with what you will."

Leena smiled, lips like the curved blade of her homeland, sharp enough to slice.

Rhen would not want to be that king.

"So what do we do now?" he asked.

"Well, we were just about to go wake you when you came barging in," Whyllem said, still laughing silently to himself at the memory. "Lady Jinji said you are bound for Fayfall and that you should leave at once."

Rhen looked around the room, realizing that all eyes were on him. He raised his brows. "So, what are we waiting for?"

Jinji rolled her eyes and used both of her arms to shove him toward the door. When he didn't budge beneath her touch, a very unnatural gust of wind slammed into his back, nearly blowing him over with the force as Jinji stepped calmly around him.

Rhen grinned.

These new powers of hers were going to be fun.

Outside, both dragons were already waiting in the center of the courtyard. Every royal guard around the palace had stopped moving, watching the beasts with dropped jaws and cautious gazes. And, Rhen suspected, a little bit of awe.

Before he stepped down the palace steps, following the others, Rhen turned to Whyllem. They shared an unspoken moment, a goodbye that didn't need explanation or words, one filled with mutual understanding.

"Take care of them, Whyllem. All of them," Rhen said, stretching out his hand.

Whyllem took it, holding on a second longer than necessary. "I will."

Rhen tugged on his brother's arm, pulling him in for a quick embrace, slapping his back with affection, more affection than he knew how to say out loud. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he whispered.

When they pulled apart, Rhen found Whyllem's gaze was full of worry, the kind that could only stem from love. "Be careful, brother."

Rhen grinned, stepping away with a shrug. "Aren't I always?"

Whyllem raised his brows. "That response is exactly what concerns me."

Rhen turned with a laugh. There was nothing else that needed to be said. And in the courtyard below, Jinji had already woven a stone birdcage large enough for two. But he had other plans.

Running a hand gently over Firestorm's scales, Rhen mounted his dragon. And then he bowed down, offering Jinji his hand.

"You know you want to…"

She pursed her lips, glancing to Janu already settled in the stone cage, then back to Rhen on top of his dragon. There was no choice to make. She gripped his fingers, smiling with wicked excitement, and let him pull her up. Firestorm purred beneath them, ready for flight. And Rhen didn't want to deny him any longer.

His wings extended, one, two, three, and they were in the air. Jinji squealed with delight, wrapping her arms tightly around Rhen's chest, holding on tight. She buried her face in his back, and he could just imagine her with her eyes closed tight, not wanting to watch the ground grow smaller and smaller beneath them. He twisted his neck, straining to see her, but all he saw was the water dragon behind him, carrying the stone cage in her claws. Leena, he noticed, held no fear, just like him. Her eyes were wide, bright with exhilaration as her dragon flew higher and higher.

"Jin," he shouted over the wind. "Open your eyes."

"How do you know they're closed?" she mumbled, barely audible.

Rhen wished she could see his challenging expression. But alas, his words would have to do. "Because I know you better than you know yourself. And I remember the hours we spent on the crow's nest, our time on the tallest tower in the castle of Rayfort. It's no secret that heights aren't your friend. But you don't have to be afraid, not with me."

She moved against his back. Slow. Cautious. But he knew the exact moment that she finally looked because her whole body jerked, and she let out a gasp of surprise. He glanced down, wanting to see what she saw.

A blanket of flames covered the air beneath the dragon, translucent as the wind broke them apart, turned them to smoke in less than a second. And through the fire, the ground was visible below. Trees came and went. A house appeared every so often. The ground moved so fast, it was almost hard to tell if they flew forward or it flew backward. And in front, an endless blue sky, waiting to be explored, only broken up by the occasional cloud.

"It's beautiful," she shouted, voice changing from nervous to thrilled. "I think I like this even better than the ship. Definitely better than the back of your horse."

"Want to have some real fun?" he called back.

Immediately, her arm muscles tensed, tightening. "Rhen…"

He didn't say anything.

"Rhen."

A second later, they dove toward the ground as she screamed threats in his ears—threats he very well knew she could carry out. Firestorm ignored her, sensing the same thing Rhen did—secretly, she enjoyed the rush. The dragon pulled even with the ground, so close Firestorm could touch the grass with his claws if he wanted to. And then he pulled up, flying high again. Jinji's scream turned to a laugh then a shout of joy. The sound just encouraged Firestorm. He twisted in the air, flipping them upside down and back again, soaring in wide circles, playful. Jinji held on tight the entire time, resting her chin on Rhen's shoulder, not closing her eyes once.

Up here, with Jinji's arms wrapped around him, it was easy to forget the real reason they were traveling, the real reason for the dragons. Rhen pushed all the doubts, all the fears from his mind. And judging by the light laughter trickling into his ears, Jinji had allowed herself to forget as well. But they needed this. They both deserved this. The world couldn't be dark all the time. Even in the direst of situations, they needed humor. They needed fun.

But all too soon, a city appeared on the horizon.

Fayfall.

Jinji sighed, a sound that sent a shiver down Rhen's spine, bringing them both back to reality. It was time to get to work.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, mirth gone from his voice.

"Let's make an entrance," Jinji answered.

Rhen guided Firestorm up, hidden behind the clouds overhead until they reached the outer limits of the city.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Jinji nodded into his shoulder. It was all the affirmation he needed. Rhen led Firestorm down in a sweeping arc, circling the castle at the center of the town, and on his command, the dragon roared, blasting a furnace of flames into the air, obscuring the sky in fire. The screams of the townspeople were a clear enough sign they had definitely been noticed. Firestorm landed in the center of the main road, just outside the castle gate. The guards standing in front of that gate ran in terror.

Overhead, another roar caught Rhen's attention. Leena dove down to follow them, sending a blizzard of snow in her wake, covering the ground in a blanket of white. Not quite as menacing, but Rhen suspected that against an enemy, that roar would contain ice shards instead of fluffy snowflakes.

They waited for a few moments to see if the gate would open in welcome.

It didn't.

Jinji released Rhen, slipping from Firestorm's back. Janu exited the cage she had woven for him, and it disappeared from sight as he stepped to his sister's side. A few seconds later, with one wave of Jinji's palm, the gate blocking the way through the castle's defensive wall disappeared. Behind it, men were waiting with swords. Those disappeared too. And the arrows, shot from the crevices along the wall's upper edge, paused in midair before falling uselessly to the cobblestone road.

"We would speak with the Lord of Fayfall, if someone would be so kind as to show us the way?" Jinji said calmly.

The men looked at her as though she were insane. And then one of them jumped into motion, running backward toward the castle behind. A few minutes later, he reappeared, completely out of breath and ushered them in his direction.

Rhen and Leena slid from their dragons' backs, releasing them to soar through the air once more. As a group, all four of them walked toward the gesturing man and through the front door.

Dark—that was the first thing Rhen thought of the castle. The brown stones hardly reflected any light, and the windows were made of stained glass. Beautiful, but not practical, leaving most of the hall shrouded in shadows. The throne room was much of the same, surrounded in color but filled with little sunshine. Rhen ached to be outdoors once more.

"What is the meaning of this?" a man called, sounding more like a petulant child than a ruler. He was wearing the plum robes of Fayfall with a golden belt cinched around his waist, dripping with precious stones. On either side, a row of men holding violet shields stood at the ready to protect him. But he was barely older than Rhen, hardly old enough for a lordship.

"Are you the Lord of Fayfall?" Jinji asked.

"I am his youngest son, Aidar. My father and my elder brother are leading a rebellion against you, Son of Whyl." He glanced at Rhen pointedly, puffing his chest out triumphantly. And prematurely, Rhen noted wryly. "I am ruling until they return."

Jinji stepped forward, forcing Rhen to resist the urge to slap the pompous idiot right in the nose. "Your father has lost that war, as you will learn soon enough, and has agreed to aid us on our quest. So you will help me and do as I ask, whether you would like to or not."

Naturally, the man chose not.

Rhen sat back and watched Jinji work, quite enjoying the show as she used her powers to hold a knife to his neck, working the same threats she had used in the castle of Rayfort the day before. The weather changed at her command. She called forth a vision of the phantom armies. And when all of that still didn't work against the arrogant fool, drunk on the power he never should have had in the first place, Jinji did something truly inspired. A geyser of water opened up on the floor beneath his throne, tossing Aidar high into the air, soaking him and sending him into a heap at their feet. Then she reached down, clutched the top of his shirt, and pulled him close.

"Unless you would next like to find yourself dressed as a little girl with pigtails in her hair, I suggest you begin to do as I say."

Vain as he was, the threat worked better than anything else would. Aidar stumbled to his feet, trying his best to straighten the jacket still dripping with water, unable to regain even a shred of dignity. With all the confidence he could muster, he turned to one of the guards.

"Take them to the caves at once," he ordered, voice gruff and begrudging. "See to it that their every command is obeyed."

Rhen made a mental note to let Whyllem know that Fayfall might not return to the kingdom as willingly as the others had, not if this idiot was still in control. But he kept his mouth shut as they followed two Fayfall guards out of the throne room—he didn’t want to make anything harder for Jinji than it already was. Though he couldn't help but notice the little smirk on her face as they left. At least a part of her, no matter how small, enjoyed putting the man in his place.

Once outside, they entered two separate coaches—Jinji and her brother in one, Leena and Rhen in another—and were given no trouble as the guards drove them from the center of the city. No more than twenty minutes later, they arrived at an entrance to the caves.

"Follow me," the guard murmured, gesturing to the side.

He led them to a wooden platform suspended over a dark hole in the ground. Not quite the image of safety, but the man stepped on first to show them it was not a trick. They joined him while the second guard remained to the side, slowly turning a wheel.

A pulley, Rhen realized as the wooden platform beneath their feet began to lower into the ground. The grass changed to dirt, which then changed to rock the lower they traveled. The sun grew dimmer the more they sank. Soon all of their faces were hooded with shadows, and the world became nearly too dark to see. The tunnel was narrow and claustrophobic until they reached a spot where a great cavern opened. Suddenly, they were surrounded by light.

Jinji gasped.

Rhen grinned.

"The silkworms of Fayfall," he murmured, more to himself, but immediately he knew the others were listening. He had heard the stories of course, but seeing them with his own eyes was a different thing entirely. The ceiling glowed deep indigo with the light of a thousand silky strands, and at the base of each was a little pulsing worm, pearlescent, as though made from the teardrops of the moon. The room sparkled with silver starlight, glistening against a lustrous sapphire backdrop, as though the world had been flipped upside down, and an iridescent sea waited overhead.

"How?" Jinji asked, awestruck, unable to take her eyes off the scene.

Rhen glanced over, unable to take his eyes off her and the beaming smile alighting her face with wonder. "These silkworms, they are only found here in the caves beneath Fayfall. There are others in different parts of the kingdom that live on plants, but the best garments are made from these strands. I'm not sure how it works, but they're breathtaking."

The wooden platform landed hard against the floor, jerking them all from their reverie.

"I can explain it to you," the guard said, "but it seemed you were on a mission of rather urgent importance."

Jinji sighed, sparing one more glance at the cavern overhead. "No, you're right. Please, lead us to where the men are working, and I will do the rest."

For the next hour and a half, they walked. Caverns appeared and disappeared overhead. Caves narrowed into tight tunnels then opened into wide roadways. Rivers of water slid between the rocks, twisting in and out of sight. The light of the silkworms mixed with the yellow glow of torches. And through it all, Jinji remained focused, pausing at each and every man they saw. Some held picks, digging at the wall, opening more caves unnaturally, searching for jewels. Others stood on ladders, harvesting the silk, readying it for transportation out of the caves to be worked into cloth. Still more did jobs Rhen couldn't readily identify.

Twice Jinji stopped, each time pulling a man from his work and telling him to follow quietly behind. One was a large hulk of a man, wider even than Rhen, taller too. The other was a mere boy, hardly fifteen, skin and bones. They couldn't be more different. But Rhen was sure they shared one similarity—earth spirit affinities. One would wake the next dragon, he was certain of it.

The third time Jinji stopped, it was by an exit. The sun filtered in, barely visible through a minute hole at the top of a very long shaft. And waiting at the base of that opening was another wooden platform, ready to carry them up. Jinji motioned for everyone to get onto the platform and then pulled the two men aside, a little distance away, speaking to them privately.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to shake.

The world trembled.

Dread filled Rhen's stomach. He pushed the Fayfall guard aside, shoving the man over, struggling to keep his balance as the world quaked, shifting below his feet.

"Jin!" he screamed, jumping off the platform, desperately trying to reach her.

Jinji looked over. A thunderous crack filled the cavern—the unmistakable roar of rock breaking free. She broke their gaze, head shooting up. Rhen followed her eyes, watching helpless as a monstrous boulder fell into view.

7

JINJI

~ FAYFALL ~

Jinji winced as horror filled Rhen's gaze.

I'm sorry, she thought, hating herself for putting him through this, but it was the only test she could think of in the moment. There were two earth affinities, and somehow she needed to narrow it down to one. And it needed to look real.

So Jinji wove an illusion. The ground really quaked. The rock truly shifted beneath their feet, making it difficult for even her to maintain balance. But the boulder currently falling toward her head was utterly fake, no matter how heavy and menacing it might appear. And if she had convinced Rhen, then the two men by her side had to be deceived as well.

Jinji didn't move.

Instead, she waited.

As the giant rock dropped precariously close, she felt hands push her hard in the arm, shoving her aside, out of the way and to safety. A moment later, the illusion of the rock slammed into the ground, deafeningly loud, utterly realistic.

Another man lay on the ground next to her—the tall, broad man. He had flung himself aside the moment the boulder slipped loose. He had chosen to save himself first. Understandable. But not the hero Jinji was looking for.

Standing slowly, she brushed her bottom off, noting it was a little sore from the fall. With the wave of her hand, the boulder crushing the ground below disappeared, and standing right at its center, completely unharmed, was the boy who sacrificed himself to save her.

"An illusion," Rhen muttered behind her back, breathing a sigh of relief.

Jinji turned, meeting his gaze. "A test."

And then she shifted her regard to the man by her feet, only now lifting his large body from the ground. Confusion filled his eyes, but he said nothing, waiting for her to speak. To the outside observer, he probably appeared to be the more likely hero. Tall and muscular, fearsome to behold. But Jinji was far more concerned with the intentions in someone's heart. Though the earth spirits circled his figure, he was not the rider they needed.

"You may go," Jinji said, dismissing him. "Return to your work. I thank you for your time."

He waited a moment longer then shook his head and left.

Jinji turned to the boy standing a few yards away, face awash with relief. He was younger than she was, and she felt almost sorry for the weight she was about to place on his shoulders. But there was no time to doubt her choices. Even now, the shadow might notice how close they were to waking the next dragon. And if he did, it was only a matter of time before the men in this cave would attack, white-eyed and with one goal possessing their thoughts—to kill the next rider.

"What is your name?" she asked.

He cleared his throat. "Branson," he spoke quietly, overwhelmed. "But people usually just call me Bran."

"You saved my life, Bran," Jinji said, stepping closer. He clasped his hands before his waist, wringing his fingers with an aura of self-consciousness, but he held her gaze. "You've never met me, but your first instinct was to push me out of harm's way. Why?"

He shrugged his shoulders, bending his whole body inward, glancing at all the eyes now focused on him. "Just seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

Jinji smiled. "I know this doesn't make sense to you right now, but you've been chosen for a greater destiny than you could have ever dreamed. There is a dragon, a creature of myth and legend, waiting for you to wake it. If you choose to do so, you will become its rider. There is a war coming, and if you accept this responsibility, you can help us save the world."

"A dragon?" he muttered, laughing airily, glancing at the group as though each and every one of them were crazy. When no one laughed with him, when no one broke his or her earnest gaze, Bran swallowed loudly, gulping the disbelief back down. "I have a ma and a sister who need me. My pa is gone, and they survive off the money I bring them."

Jinji glanced at the guard. "Find his family and bring them to the castle. Tell the Lord of Fayfall they are to be treated as his guests and will live with him, wanting for nothing until this man returns to bring them home. Is that understood?"

The guard nodded. "Yes, my lady."

She turned back to the boy. "Is that all? Will you accept my offer? Will you join us, Bran?"

He scrunched his brows, glancing around once more. "I'm still not sure I believe you. But if you say you need me, say the world needs me, I guess I have no choice but to accept."

"Come then."

Jinji took him gently by the arm, leading him toward the platform. At the guard's signal, the pulley began carrying them up and out of the caves. When they reached the top, Jinji took a good look at the newest member of their team. The hair she had thought was brown was truly platinum blond, stained with the mud and grime of the cave. In the light of the day, she realized Bran was taller than Rhen, but narrow and thin, making him appear smaller and younger than he really was. His blue eyes were kind and gentle, filled with awe as he stared up at the sky, at the dragons soaring toward them. A captivated grin widened his cheeks, filling his face with excitement.

He'll do, she thought, satisfied. A gut instinct told her this was the right decision, that this was the earth rider she was meant to find, the perfect addition to their motley crew.

Within ten minutes, Rhen and the boy disappeared into the horizon, flying toward the Gates. Leena and Janu stayed behind with her. Jinji dismissed the guard, sending him back to the city to locate Bran's family and bring them to the castle, reminding him that she would not respond kindly if the Lord of Fayfall gave her command any trouble.

"What do you think about sleeping under the stars tonight?" she asked once the three of them were alone.

Leena smiled. "I've never done it before."

"I've missed it," Janu replied.

"Come on," Jinji said with a grin, signaling for them to follow her. Off in the distance, she heard the unmistakable sound of crashing waves, and all she wanted to do was find the ocean. The more they walked, the more Jinji realized how much she had missed having a wild forest around her. They stepped off the road leading back to Fayfall and into the trees, carefully winding around massive trunks, through mangled bushes, over grass and dirt that hadn't yet been touched by man. In a rush, it all came back to her, the memories of her former life. The rustle of the leaves reminded her of home. The squish of earth beneath her feet, still wet from the morning dew. The chirp of birds, of insects hidden in plain sight. The freshness of the air, how crisply it filled her chest. Every bit of it felt like home.

The tracking came back too. How to read the signals of the forest to find her way. Before long, they had reached a cliff overlooking the sea. Endless blue stretched out into the horizon. And though she could wash herself clean of the sweat and mud with one swish of her hand, she didn't. Instead, she walked right to the edge of the cliff and glanced down to take in the scene below.

Waterfalls. That was the crashing noise filling her ears, the sound that had led her here. All along the cliffs, sprouting from cave openings buried in the earth, rivers emptied into the sea below, creating a gentle white mist all along the winding coast.

"It's beautiful," Leena murmured next to her. "I spent most of my life locked away in a golden palace, fantasizing about the outside world. Now that I'm free, it's almost hard to believe it's real. That I won't wake to find this has all been a dream."

Out in the distance, a blue dragon dove steeply, disappearing with barely a splash into the depths of the ocean. Jinji glanced over her shoulder, finding Janu wandering around the trees, a bundle of sticks in his arms, preparing to build a fire. She didn't bother to call out to let him know she could make one without blinking. Sometimes things were better left the old-fashioned way. Instead, she sat down, dangling her feet over the edge, amazed at her newfound bravery. Leena joined her.

"If I fall, you'll catch me?" she asked.

Jinji smiled. "I'll catch you."

The princess gripped the edges of the golden gown she still wore, shuffling it up so her olive skin was bare to the sun and breeze. She closed her eyes, sighing. Happy.

"Have you ever worn pants?" Jinji asked suddenly.

Leena grinned, not opening her eyes. "Princesses of Ourthuro are not afforded the luxury of the free, unencumbered movement pants provide."

"Well, dragon riders are, if they want."

Leena opened her eyes, squinting in thought then nodded. The air around her body shimmered, glowing for a moment. And then the clothes adorning her body shifted, still the same golden silks, but now the bottom half of her body was covered in snug pants rather than a loose skirt.

"Thanks," she murmured, running her hands over the material.

Jinji paused, unsure of the words ready to spill from her tongue. But she felt they needed to be said. "I'm sorry," she blurted. "For before, for abandoning you in Rayfort. Rhen and I left you without a word of goodbye, in a foreign city we knew would be under attack, and I feel horribly guilty for not taking you with us. But the king ordered us not to, and at the time, I had no idea I was strong enough to defy him."

Jinji wasn't sure what response she was expecting, but it definitely wasn't a loud, bursting laugh. Leena looked at her, smiling broadly with mirth filling her dark eyes, still as mysterious as the first time they had met. "I don't blame you. The king gave me the option of leaving too, but I chose to stay." She paused, thinking, gaze focused on a spot beyond the horizon. "I've come to realize something these past few weeks—life is always changing, and I feel as though I'm just along for the ride. You and Whylrhen saved me by giving me the courage to break free of my father's hold. And you saved me again by giving me my dragon. Just as fate has been guiding my decisions, it has been guiding yours. And if you hadn't left me, Rhen might never have found the dragon, you might never have found your brother, and we might never have found ourselves sitting here."

"That's a good way of looking at things," Jinji said, impressed.

Leena just shrugged, relaxing and losing her royal composure the more they spoke. "I have to believe that everything happens for a reason, that the hardships we've all endured served a purpose. Otherwise, what would be the point?"

What would be the point? Jinji repeated to herself. If she hadn't lost her family, she would have never met Rhen. If she had never met Rhen, she wouldn't have awoken the spirit, would never have discovered her destiny or the dragons or the powers she now wielded. And if none of that happened, who would be around to fight the shadow?

Jinji sighed.

But what was the point if Janu was the shadow? What was the point of suffering so much, of fighting so hard, if in the end she was helpless to finish the job? If fate were guiding her, it would have to do a better job. Because right now, she was utterly lost on where her next steps should lead.

Jinji fell back against the grass, turning away from the view of the water and looking up at the clouds floating overhead instead. When they were little, she and Janu used to search for shapes in those white puffs. Rabbits. Leaves. Fish. Deer. They could spend hours just like this, resting on their backs, staring up at the sky, filling it with endless imaginative possibilities. What did she see now? Dragons. Phantoms. Doom.

Jinji turned to the side as Leena fell back beside her, turning her face to the sky, welcoming the kiss of the sun. "What do you see when you look at the clouds, Leena?"

"A face," she whispered.

"Of the man you lost?" Jinji asked quietly.

The princess nodded slowly, gaze still locked above. "Sometimes him, sometimes I imagine it's my mother."

At the word mother, Jinji's eyes widened, recalling what she'd discovered when she healed the princess the day before. "Leena!" she gasped. The princess twisted her head quickly in Jinji's direction, curious what had changed her tone so much. Jinji took a breath, calming her suddenly racing pulse before continuing. "Leena, you, when I healed you, I noticed something I'm not sure you know, but you, you're—"

"I'm with child?" she asked. A small smile graced her lips. "I know. I wasn't going to tell anyone, not until the future was more certain, not until this shadow was defeated."

"I won't tell," Jinji reassured, grinning alongside the princess, bonded more by the new secret they shared. "Do you want to know what it is?"

Leena exhaled sharply. "You know?"

Jinji nodded, biting her lips to keep the words from escaping just in case they were unwanted. But Leena widened her eyes, excitement palpable. "It's a girl."

"A girl?" Leena sighed, closing her eyes tightly, opening them again, and looking to the sky. Her hands came to rest on her stomach, caressing it gently. "Mikza always said he wanted a girl. A son too, eventually. But he said first, he wanted a daughter, a stubborn little thing who would give me a taste of my own medicine." She swallowed, dark eyes growing darker.

Jinji reached out, resting her palm gently on Leena's arm. Mikzahooq—she remembered him. The Ourthuri who had been kind to her on that journey to Da'astiku, which seemed so long ago. The Ourthuri whose face she had borrowed to sneak into the golden palace to save Rhen, the only reason she and Leena had ever met. And Jinji remembered something else, that King Razzaq had mercilessly killed him for the sole crime of falling in love with a princess. If Jinji closed her eyes, she could still picture Leena's tear-stained cheeks the first time they had met, the pain and suffering that filled her eyes. It was that sense of mutual loss that had brought them together and established a mutual trust.

"She's going to be beautiful," Jinji murmured soothingly.

Leena nodded, sniffing slightly. "I hope she has his eyes."

"She has your fight," Jinji said. Leena rolled her face to the side, meeting Jinji's gaze. "I felt it when I healed you both. She's a survivor like you."

"She'll have to be."

The princess's tone was ominous. Jinji pinched her brows, probing. "Why?"

"When this war is over, my troubles won't be. I need to go home, to stand up to my father, to help my people. Ourthuro is long overdue for a change, and I plan to be the catalyst of that change. The people are ready for it, I'm sure. But the ruling class, they'll resist any attempt to lessen their power. I'm not naïve enough to think it will be easy, not anymore, but I also know I can't walk away, can't abandon them. And my daughter will inherit that legacy."

"She'll be proud to."

Leena licked her lips, sitting up quickly, letting out a deep breath. "I hope so."

And then a screeching cry pierced the air. Jinji sat up in time to see the water dragon emerge from the sea, eyes locked on Leena, sensing her rider's inner turmoil.

"Go," Jinji encouraged, catching Leena's questioning glance. "Fly."

A moment later, Leena jumped from the cliff, freefalling for just a moment before the dragon swooped in beneath her, catching her softly. They were one, it was clear to see, completely attuned to each other. The princess landed smoothly, in perfect position on her dragon's back. Together, they dove, sinking below the mist and plunging into the cool surface of the sea. They disappeared below the blue.

Jinji watched for a few moments longer, wondering if they would resurface anytime soon. But the water remained unbroken. Leena and her dragon were gone, at least for a little while, and a twinge of jealousy pierced Jinji's stomach. Why couldn't she fly away, escape her troubles for an hour or two, get lost in an adrenaline-fueled thrill, and forget her tumultuous thoughts? Why did everyone else get a dragon besides her?

Enough pity, she thought, sighing. That kind of thinking would get her nowhere. So she stood, searching for Janu and finding him settled on the grass tending to a gentle flame, coaxing it to grow.

"Do you want to pretend with me for a little while?" Jinji asked.

He blew on the fire, flaring it higher as he placed a few more sticks around the blaze. "Pretend what?"

Jinji glanced at the clearing around them, realizing she had other tricks at her disposal, other ways to escape. "Pretend that we're little again, that Mother and Father will be here any moment telling us to go to sleep, that nothing has changed."

Janu lost his smile. "How can we do that?"

Jinji shrugged, not really sure herself. And then she closed her eyes, imagining it. Behind closed lids, she saw the hut from her childhood, the one she had lived in for most of her life. Every detail came back as though she had never left, the worn grass in the center, the little pallet in the corner where she slept, the larger one on the opposite side where her parents rested. A fire burned in the middle of the hut, keeping them all warm during the long, cold nights. A hole opened to the sky above, and on clear evenings, she could see stars from her bed.

Jinji didn't look at Janu when she opened her eyes. Instead, she walked forward and crawled into the bed she had just re-created from memory. A few moments later, Janu joined her. Their clothes changed from newworlder garb to the soft tan hides she never thought she would wear again, cozy and warm, just as she remembered.

"I never thought I would see home again," Janu murmured, voice thick.

"It doesn't exist anymore," she whispered, swallowing the memory of that fateful day back down. "I burned it to the ground."

"That's not why it doesn't exist anymore."

Jinji looked at Janu, held his gaze. And in that instant, she knew—her brother was haunted. There was no other way to describe it. He remembered. He had been there with the shadow. He had seen the massacre.

"I killed them," he murmured, voice cracked and scratchy, utterly raw.

Jinji clasped his hand, shaking her head. "Not you, Janu. Never you."

He closed his eyes tight, unable to stop the tears from leaking through. Jinji watched, feeling her own lips wobble, her throat close. "I was there, Jinji. Maybe not in body, but the voice, he showed me, he made me relive every moment. I remember that day as if my own hands wielded the weapons. I held the knife that slit their throats. I won't ever forget how easily the sharp edge sunk into their skin, how little pressure it took to slide the blade, silently ending their lives. And," he stopped talking, trembling as his whole body began to shake. "And I can see you, Jinji, with Leoa's body immobile and bloody by your feet. I see your face in my dreams. I can't escape the utter horror that filled your eyes as you backed away from me, terrified, and inconsolably lost."

"It wasn't you," Jinji urged, trying her best to convince them both. But her gut pinched, unable to ignore the truth. The shadow was Janu. Janu was the shadow. A fact she couldn't escape, couldn't change no matter how hard she tried.

"It may as well have been because I could do nothing to stop it." Janu shifted on the pallet, lying on his back, staring up at the little hole opening to the sky. "He's so strong, Jinji, you have no idea. I try to fight him, to stop him from taking control, but I can't. And the more I try, the easier it seems for him to push me aside."

Jinji squeezed his fingers, forcing him to look at her. "You're stronger than you know, Janu. You still have yourself, have your mind and your memories. You haven't let him drive you mad, you haven't lost your soul, you haven't let him take it from you."

He returned her hard grip. "The hope of seeing you again, of knowing you had survived, of knowing we might be together—that hope is the only thing that kept me alive. You made me stronger, you always have."

Jinji swallowed, biting back the confession. She could never tell Janu her secret—that the shadow was a part of him, that their souls were connected, that she didn't have the strength to kill the shadow if it meant killing Janu as well. At this very moment, the shadow could be in another person's body, murdering an innocent soul while she sat idle, taking no action against him. No—Jinji wasn't nearly as strong as Janu thought she was. And if her brother knew the truth, he would see how weak she really was.

"Do you know what day it is?" she asked instead, changing the subject before the guilt had a chance to overwhelm her.

Janu scrunched his brows, unsure.

"Sanjiju," Jinji whispered. Janu's eyes lit with understanding. He remembered the customs of their people just as she did. Some things could never be forgotten. Sanjiju, the most beloved and sacred festival of the Arpapajo people. The day they celebrated the spirits in prayer and dance, the day they remembered all of those who had passed, who were now one with the earth, alive within jinjiajanu, the mother spirit. The day they welcomed spring, a time for renewal and regrowth.

She and Janu had only partaken in the ceremony once together. But for nearly a decade, Jinji had danced the steps in his memory, in his honor.

"Has winter passed so quickly?" Janu asked.

"The cold months were short this year," Jinji said, taking his hand. "Barely any snow. The warmth of spring came early, but I am certain today is Sanjiju. The stars are aligned."

"We didn't fast," he murmured.

Jinji smiled. "They'll forgive us this once, I think." And then she pulled him to his feet. "Do you remember the steps?"

"I could never forget them, not after Mother made us take so many lessons. My feet still bleed."

"Mine too," she whispered.

In a flash, the hut around them disappeared. The prayer steps of Sanjiju must be performed outside for the spirits to witness. The songs had to lift into the sky, to be carried across the land by the breeze. The steps had to pound into the earth, so the grass and dirt could feel the beat. The sweat of their movements had to rain against the ground, fertilizing the new spring. The only thing that was missing was the eternal fire, the one that represented the heart of her people, the one Jinji had used to burn her home to the ground, and the one Rhen had later snuffed out, not realizing what it meant. But Janu had built a fire for them for the night, and small as it was, it would do for now.

"Come." Jinji led him to the center of the clearing.

The dance of Sanjiju always started with the tribe in a circle around the fire, holding hands, everyone connected, everyone as one. Each ember rising in the wind and each speck of ash represented a new spirit joining the celebration, safe to rejoin the tribe for the night, welcome within the confines of the ring, reunited with their people once more.

Jinji and Janu held each other's hands. The circle was small, but it was there. And as though sensing their presence, a swift breeze billowed in, flaring the fire high, sending an explosion of sparks into the sky, glittering the air around them. Taking it as a sign, Jinji and Janu started to sing. As natural as breathing, their feet began to shift, to stomp and pound, to twist and twirl. Their hands clapped against each other, against their thighs, their hearts. Their bodies created a rhythm, and their voices continued the song. Neither missed a single beat nor a single note.

Jinji and Janu danced for their people.

For one night, as twilight started to settle in, turning the sky a soft lavender, the Arpapajo people were reborn.

Jinji got her wish.

She pretended, at least for a little while, that nothing had changed.

8

RHEN

~ FAYFALL ~

Rhen heard Jinji before he saw her. He listened to her voice rise in gentle song over the tops of the trees, settling over the forest like a mystical blanket. The words were foreign, but the notes of joy and loss were universal, cocooning him in warm nostalgia. Somehow, it brought him back to a time before he'd met her, back to the Rhen he used to be, gallivanting around the kingdom and wishing to prove himself to his family, wishing to show them his worth.

How long ago that seemed.

Rhen hardly recognized the boy he used to be, the façade he used to put on, the prince he used to play. Soaring around on Firestorm's back, Rhen was at home in his skin, exactly the man he needed to be, embracing a destiny he never knew he'd had yet somehow always yearned for.

Behind him, Bran and the newly awoken earth dragon were getting used to one another, spinning and dipping in the sky. The boy would do. Jinji had made a good choice. He was scrawny but strong in his conviction. And if the dragon had judged him worthy, that was good enough proof for Rhen.

Movement caught his attention, and Rhen glanced down only to find the princess and the water dragon breaking free from the sea, surging through the surface and dripping as they made their way toward him. Against the indigo sky, they were barely visible, camouflaged in a way Rhen and his dragon would never be. Fire wasn't made for stealth, it was bold and powerful and always simmering below the surface. It blazed against the sun and moon in equal measure.

He swooped down close to the treetops, a brilliant orange beacon in the sky, and the others followed. Then he sank into the clearing, coming to a stop a little distance away from Jinji and Janu. But the two siblings didn't hear the dragons land heavily against the ground, not even the earth dragon, made to move mountains with his hefty claws. And Rhen knew the woman he loved was in a different world, a place he couldn't follow, a place only Janu could go. They stepped as one, sang as one, and it was something he, a newworlder, would never understand.

"Stay here," he said, gesturing to the other riders to sit with their dragons, to settle in. He stepped into the trees, gathering dry branches before rejoining his new companions. With a little snort from Firestorm, a blaze started easily enough, catching on to the logs and burning bright.

"Do you know what they're doing?" Leena asked, glancing over her shoulder at the two oldworlders curiously.

Rhen shook his head. "All I know is we shouldn't interrupt."

"Can I…" Bran trailed off, mumbling quietly to himself, glancing at the two other riders warily.

"Speak up," Rhen commanded, tone filled with jest.

"It's only, I didn't ask before, but you said to call you Rhen. And I couldn't help but notice your hair, and your speech, and…" He trailed off again. Rhen raised his brows but gave away nothing, trying to teach the boy to gain some much-needed confidence. He was probably no more than a handful of years younger than Rhen, but he carried himself like a boy uncomfortable in his skin, not like a man. "Are you perhaps Whylrhen, Prince of the Kingdom of Whylkin, a Son of Whyl, with the blood of the conqueror in your veins?"

Rhen grinned. "That's a lot of words for a simple question. I was Whylrhen, but I am Rhen now, dragon rider and nothing more." And then Rhen smiled wider, hoping to drop the boy's jaw even more. "She, however, is a princess."

Leena immediately rolled her eyes, glancing pointedly at Rhen with frustration. "Don't listen to him. Like Rhen, I was once Princess Leenaka of Ourthuro, but now I am Leena and nothing more."

"So you are both royals?" Bran asked. They nodded. He gulped. "How in the gods did I get chosen?"

Rhen put his hand on the boy's shoulder, gripping his boney arm. "How is not important. You are a rider. The dragon chose you. Nothing from before matters. We're all equals in this."

Leena raised her brow playfully, smirking, showing Rhen a side of this poised, cold princess that he had yet to see. "You think we're all equal, Son of Whyl? I'm certain my dragon is faster and far superior."

"Firestorm will take that challenge," Rhen grunted, already rising to his feet.

"Firestorm?" she asked.

"Every good steed should have a name."

The princess nodded thoughtfully. But before she could respond, Bran and his dragon took off, surging into the air. He shouted down after them, "Catch up if you can!"

Leena met Rhen's eyes, and then the two of them jumped into action, chasing after the forest-green dragon. The last thing they saw before mounting their dragons were his thick, boulder-like claws disappearing over the trees. And then Rhen was flying. Leena was by his side, gaining fast. She caught Bran first, dragon screeching into the air in victory. They were smooth as liquid in flight, fast like a rushing river. The earth dragon was no match—it was stocky and large, all strength and little grace. But Rhen knew Firestorm could catch the princess. Fire was made to explode, so they did, speeding forward, hot on the water dragon's tail. But the princess didn't play by the rules. In one swift move, she plummeted straight down. Rhen followed, breathing fire on her heels, but before he could catch her, she vanished into the sea.

Firestorm screeched, caught by surprise as the water came quicker than he or Rhen had realized in the dark. They pulled even just in time, claws and tail whipping against the surface, sizzling where fire met ocean. He and his dragon were not made for the sea. Neither was the earth dragon, but Bran realized his mistake too late. Rhen looked over his shoulder as a crash split the air. All he saw was a great wave shooting high, and a moment later the splash soaked him.

Giggles filtered into his ear.

Rhen looked over to see Leena and her dragon hovering to the side, watching with mirth. Even the dragon had an icy grin.

"I told you, Rhen, not all dragons are created equal!" she teased.

"We'll see," Rhen muttered. Firestorm started the chase again.

For the rest of the night, three dragons and their riders played. Chasing after each other, testing their powers, testing their abilities. They learned how each other moved, how they flew, how they fought. But most of all, they bonded, formed a friendship. They were riders, and they were the only three people in the world who truly knew what that felt like. Comrades forced together by fate, but after a few hours, it began to feel like they had chosen each other, like they fit together. Rhen, a natural born leader, finally embracing those parts of himself he never could before, no longer on the sidelines as a third son but at the front of the pack. Leena, mysterious, yes, but also mischievous and spirited and strong, bringing both a sense of fun and a sense of duty to the group. And Bran, self-conscious, maybe, but it balanced out the other two personalities. He was cautious where the other two were bold, and he carried a sense of reason and youthful optimism that Rhen and Leena sorely needed.

Who would the fourth member be?

Rhen thought about it as the three of them returned from their games, settling against their dragons to sleep for the night. He let his head fall to the side, toward the fire on the other side of the clearing, to the two bodies slumbering near its flames.

Jinji.

He fell asleep thinking of her, wondering why she was so far away. But he woke to the gentle purr of her voice whispering in his ear.

"Rhen," she murmured softly. "Rhen, we must go."

"What?" He shot up, barely missing her forehead with his own. Glancing fervently around, he was confused for a moment at the unfamiliar surroundings, the trees, the cliffs, the sea far below. Then he blinked a few times, remembering the day before. Jinji watched him mirthfully, smiling slightly, eyes bright. He rubbed his hand over his nose and through his unruly red hair, wiping the exhaustion away. Still bleary-eyed, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Well, I was hoping you might have a suggestion again?" she mumbled.

Rhen glanced around. Four pairs of eyes turned in his direction, all waiting for him to give them a clue to the next adventure. The truth was, his guess would be just that—a guess. An informed one, but not foolproof. Not even close. "We need to find the air rider?"

Jinji nodded.

"My best guess would be a ship, a merchant ship perhaps, somewhere in the open ocean?"

Jinji bit her lip, thinking.

"But won't that be too hard to find?" a somewhat unfamiliar voice asked. Rhen glanced at Janu, meeting his eyes curiously. The Arpapajo didn't back down—he met Rhen's gaze full on. There was something hard deep in the depths of his irises. "What about a city?"

"A city?" Jinji repeated, turning to her brother.

"Well, we came here to find the earth dragon. It seems a specific destination might be best, rather than searching for ships we may never find."

Jinji reached for his hand, squeezing it and smiling up at him in thanks. The sight made Rhen's stomach coil. Something about her brother's tone was too innocent. "You're right, Janu. We should travel to a place. We should have a set plan. Rhen?"

He broke his scrutiny of Janu, gritting his teeth in concerned thought. After a moment, he said, "What about Brython?"

"The mountain city," Bran commented, agreeing with a nod.

Jinji and Leena both followed suit, supporting Rhen's decision.

It was Janu who spoke next. "Where is Brython? Why there?"

This time Rhen was not the only one who turned to Janu with brows pinched. Jinji did too. And the sight of her watching her brother—no, examining her brother—made his gut tighten even more. Rhen knew he was wary of the man, but why on earth was Jinji?

"Brython is a city high up in the Weeping Mountains," Bran commented, unaware of Rhen's clenched jaw. "They have rock quarries that some say stretch a thousand feet high. And most of the ice in the kingdom is cut from the tops of those mountains. I hear the peaks are frozen all year round. In the spring and summer, they weep rivers. In the fall and winter, the mountains are covered in icy tears. My ma told me they have the best library in the kingdom too, she went there once as a child."

Janu shrugged. "I've never heard of it."

Rhen flicked his eyes to Jinji, studying the way her shoulders dropped in certain relief. He was the only one looking close enough to notice.

"Let's go," Jinji said, spurring the group into action. Rhen offered her his hand before climbing onto Firestorm's back. But this time, she declined, shaking her head. "I'll ride with Janu."

Rhen licked his lips for a moment then gave her a weak smile, turning before she could see the hurt flash over his eyes. Something so small. And yet, he had the feeling it signified something larger, something he wasn't ready to see.

And the sense of unease didn't go away as they entered the sky—it strengthened. With each flap of Firestorm's wings, the pit in Rhen's stomach shoveled deeper. Along the ground, all he saw were shadows. From the clouds, from the trees, from homes, even the soaring shape of the dragons in flight. But to Rhen, the darkness began to seem alive. The ebony spoke to him, promising doom. No matter how hard he concentrated on the grass or the rippling sea or the river mapping their course to Brython, the shadows in his peripheral wouldn't vanish. They couldn't be squashed.

The sky grew colder the closer they flew. The breath pressing through his lips began to puff out in white smoke. The air was thinner, harder to pull into his chest. And the ground started to rise in sharp spikes, gradually growing taller. Mirroring the terrain below, bumps rose along Rhen's warm skin. For some reason, the cool temperature didn't seem like the cause. The ridges were a warning, sent straight from his heart, ominous as they rippled across his arms.

The group began to weave through the mountains, following the winding river, a path they could track from the sky. The peaks stretched over their heads, disappearing into thick clouds. And though they could fly higher, Rhen kept everyone low where the air was clear and the world visible. The last thing they all needed was to dive into the fog.

As they curved around the next mountain, the city of Brython slipped into view, nestled in a wide valley, hugging the side of the river. The ground here was still covered by a layer of white, remnants of the winter. The houses were made of gray stones in varying shades, blending into the rocky landscape around them. And the castle was built into the side of a mountain, high above the sleepy town below, watching over it protectively. A small curving road was the only path leading to the fortress.

At first, the city seemed quiet in its solitude. But the closer they flew, the more Rhen noticed life and activity filling the streets below. Yet, the discomfort filling his chest didn't go away. The closer they traveled, the stronger it became.

Upon landing, the hairs on the back of his neck stood. Jinji stepped toward the entrance to the castle, already lifting her hands to stop whatever arrows or blades might fly in her direction. The process was becoming too familiar. First in Rayfort, then Fayfall, now Brython. But the moment she opened her mouth to call out to the guards, to demand a welcome entrance, a sound stopped her. Stopped them all.

Screams.

At first, Rhen thought it was the wind—the gentle howl of gusts billowing through the mountain valley. But as the sound traveled high over the town, reaching the castle gate, he recognized it for what it was. Human screams. People yelling in terror.

Rhen spun. They all did, looking down at the city, which was frantic with activity. Men and women and children ran in every direction. The air turned electric, prickling his skin, charged. The sensation was all too familiar. Rhen had felt it before—in the dragon's vision. He recognized the airborne current, the tingling premonition of doom. And the more he watched the people below, the more he realized he was looking in the wrong direction. All their faces were turned up, were aimed on the sky. They were running in terror, and their eyes weren't on the dragons.

Everyone in the group realized it at the same time.

All five of them spun on their heels, eyes traveling up.

Leena gasped by his side. But Rhen was stuck, eyes wide, as he watched a black fog descend from the mountain. Ebony tendrils stretched out, slowly and deliberately, like fingers reaching to claim the city below. The mist moved lazily, gradually blocking out the sun as it sank, made all the more terrifying by the anticipation crackling in the air. Midday turned to midnight. And the closer the haze traveled, the more distinct it became. Bodies separated. Shapes formed. A ghostly army materialized.

The phantoms were here.

The shadow was here.

"Fly!" Jinji screamed.

The riders needed no other prompting. With one glance back at Jinji, whose eyes were locked on him, Rhen jumped onto Firestorm's back. He hated to leave her, and he could read the same fear for him in her gaze. Yet as the screams grew louder, echoing across the valley, Rhen knew there was no other choice. They both did. His destiny was to fly, and hers was to remain on the ground, each fighting in the only way they knew how.

So he took off. And in the same moment, the fog finally hit the town. Just like when the armies outside Rayfort were dying in his flames, Rhen immediately felt the pain of the people below. Through Firestorm, he lived their terror, their fear. In his heart, he could feel each life end as the phantoms claimed them. First, the black mist brought paralysis, stilling each person that came into contact with it. Then the freeze, as though their bodies filled with ice. And then heat, a fire bubbling beneath the surface of their skin, excruciating. Then the seizures came, violent twitching, until finally the shadow claimed their souls, ending their suffering and pulling them into his realm.

Rhen was lost in the agony.

They all were.

The dragons and riders hovered over the city, unable to see beyond the pain, unable to separate themselves from those dying below.

Fight!

The scream ripped through Rhen's mind, shattering through the pain.

Fight! Jinji shouted again, speaking to them through the magic tying the dragons to her, tying them all together. Her voice shocked the riders to their very core. But it was the jolt they all needed.

Firestorm roared.

The other dragons did too.

And just like the practice from the night before, all three riders were connected. Rhen felt them in his own mind. He knew where they were, sensed what they were doing. And just the same, he felt Jinji with him, almost as though her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. Her presence gave him strength, gave him courage.

"Let's go," he whispered fervently to his dragon. And through this spiritual connection, all of the riders heard him. And all of them listened.

He and Firestorm dove, invincible together. Flames roared, shooting into the sky, burning the thin air. Rhen's world became a canvas of black and orange, of fire and mist, of phantom and flame. The haze separated where he flew, avoiding contact with his power. The ebony shrank beneath his flames, but it didn't disappear entirely. Instead, the ghosts vanished, only to reappear safely behind him, out of the path of his fire.

The dance was maddening.

Every time Rhen turned, the phantoms were there. Like oil and water, they slinked away from his flames, anticipating where each blaze would go and swerving to avoid it. For every one phantom Rhen managed to slow, ten more escaped.

And Rhen sensed the others were having similar luck.

Ice shards spotted the ground, sharp, piercing the earth but not the mist. Water flooded the streets, trying to wash the phantoms away from the bodies writhing in pain. But Leena's mind was full of the same frustration as Rhen's. No matter what she tried, none of it was working.

The ground trembled and quaked. Rocks slipped free of the mountains, trying to bury the ebony haze beneath a bed of broken stone. But the shadowy cloud slipped through the cracks, oozing free of the landslide. Bran and his dragon spewed dirt over the mist, but no matter how deep it sunk, it wouldn't stay buried.

And in the back of his mind, Rhen heard something that made him pause.

That made his heart sink.

That made any hope he had left vanish.

Jinji was whimpering.

"Help me," she whispered. He heard her plea through the magic. The spirits brought her voice to his ear. But Rhen knew the words weren't meant for him, they weren't meant for the riders. But he had no idea who she might be speaking to. "What do I do? Help me."

Whoever it was, nothing came.

They were alone.

And they were losing.

With each passing moment, Rhen felt the city slip further and further from his grasp. More and more people were dying. More and more souls were dropping away. The shadow was winning, and even with the dragons, there seemed no possible way to stop him.

Though it felt like hours, the battle lasted only a few minutes. The phantoms began to fade. And deep in his soul, Rhen shuddered with the desolate stillness. No more pain filtered up from the town. No more movement. Nothing was there. No one was there. The ebony mist thinned, blowing away in the breeze, disappearing as though it never even existed.

And in its wake, there was silence.

Utter and absolute quiet.

The flap of Firestorm's wings was deafeningly loud in Rhen's ears as they sank down to the streets of Brython. Rhen stumbled from his dragon's back, feet barely able to carry him over the stone roads littered with bodies. He shook them. Placed his ear to their chests. Tried to blow air into their foamy mouths.

But they were gone.

Everyone.

The men. The women. Even the innocent children. Not a soul had survived.

Eventually Rhen fell, tripping over his own feet as his eyes grew bleary. Landing hard on his knees, he had no will to stand. Instead he shifted back, staring at the sky, and did the only thing he could.

He screamed.

Two other wails filled the air around him.

Leena and Bran.

The riders, crying out as one in the face of their failure.

9

JINJI

~ BRYTHON ~

Jinji heard the screams. How could she not? They pierced like a sword drilling straight through her heart.

Her riders were weeping.

Her dragons were weeping.

Rhen was weeping.

But it wasn't their fault. No. This destruction was on her shoulders and hers alone. And Jinji was crushed beneath the weight. She fell to the ground, crawling toward the edge of the castle's ledge where she had watched the battle rage. Her eyes roamed the streets below—so still but not empty. They were horrifyingly full of the dead.

"Search for survivors," she whispered, barely more than a soft croak. But they heard her. The dragons connected them all, and the spirit that lived within her was the center of that connection. "The rest deserve a proper farewell. Whatever the custom is for this region, we will do it."

And then she cut the bond, sealing off the connection the battle had prompted, closing it tight so none of the riders could hear her beg. "Why didn't you help me?"

But there was no response.

"Please, I must know," Jinji pleaded, ignoring the tears as they fell in a fast current down her cheeks. "Please, if this happens again… Please."

But the voice remained utterly silent.

"I don't know how to save them. Not without you, not alone. If this happens again, I can't just watch silently from the sidelines, unable to help. All of my magic did nothing. The dragons did nothing. Please, you have to tell me what to do, how to fight. I know you know. I know."

Nothing.

"Tell me!" Jinji screamed, but with her throat so hoarse, it came out as barely anything. She tried again. "Do you want them to die?"

I want you to remember this feeling, the voice finally responded, tone thick and hard, accusing.

"I will never forget it," Jinji mumbled.

And yet, you still won't act against him.

The voice didn’t need to clarify. And Jinji didn't bother to look at her brother. She couldn't meet his eyes, not yet, not knowing whom she would find within them. "No."

So why bother to learn how to fight the phantoms? Why even try when you condemn the whole world to this fate either way?

Jinji didn't have an answer. So all she said was, "Please."

The voice didn't say anything. Jinji could feel the spirit thinking in the back of her mind, debating the options. But in the end, she relented, just as Jinji knew she would. No matter what, she wouldn't allow the world she created to crumble around her without a fight.

You can't fight them as phantoms. As the mist, they are indestructible, not even the dragons can stop them. You must remember what they truly are—lost souls, searching for a way back to earth. They are confused. Most don't have any idea what they do, they just go where my shadow-self leads them, believing it is the start of their next life.

The reason their touch is deadly is because one body cannot have two souls. You know well enough that it rips the mind in two, but my shadow-self and I can do things that other souls cannot. The phantom's touch creates a connection, binding the ghost to the living body. For a short time, the body has two souls, and because of that, it self-destructs. In attempting to fight off the intruder, it destroys itself as well. Only people with elemental affinities can survive the touch of the phantoms because their souls are connected to mine, making their bodies strong enough to withstand the fight.

Jinji shook her head, watching as her three riders wandered aimlessly around the streets below, finding not a single living soul within the devastation. They began to pile the dead, using the dragons to lift them to a spot in the center of the town. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight. "I don't understand," she whispered.

The voice sighed heavily in the back of her mind.

The only way to fight the phantoms is to give them empty bodies to inhabit and then to kill them all over again. You can weave the empty shells, and when the phantoms touch those bodies, they will be drawn in. Once that connection is made, the dragons can destroy them because they will be back in human form. But the cycle is never-ending. You bring the phantoms back to life for a moment, and then you send them straight back to the shadow realm where my shadow-self can then call them forth to the mist again. And it will repeat, on and on and on.

"And why can't we just bring them back to life, and then that's it, we don't kill them?"

It doesn't work like that. They remember too much of their previous lives. They would be mad, crazed, not human—not really. There is a process my shadow-self must use when he fuses a soul from his realm to a newly created baby in mine, a process he skips when he calls forth the mist.

"So that is it, we fight in circles until one side tires of the game?" Jinji asked, voice growing angry. The walls surrounding her were closing in, caging her in. Every option she thought she had was slowly fading away, disappearing before her eyes.

We've been doing it for thousands of years, and my shadow-self has shown no sign of stopping. But I've grown tired. I am tired. You know the options. You know what you must do. I'm letting you play now.

And then the voice was gone.

But Jinji just shook her head, unable to open her eyes, unable to just drop the conversation. Because the spirit was wrong. And Jinji didn't understand how she could be so blind.

What if she killed Janu? What would happen then? The shadow wouldn't be satisfied. That was how the spirit had solved the war the last time, and yet here they were a thousand years later, fighting the same fight. The shadow would just return in a new body, one Jinji maybe had no hope of ever finding. The phantoms would return, they would be right back here, but it would be even worse. Better the enemy she knew, the enemy she recognized, than the one she did not.

There was only one way to end this.

Compromise.

"I know you are there," Jinji said, finally opening her eyes and standing. With one last glance at the city sprawled out below, at the riders and dragons doing their best to honor those who died, Jinji turned her back on Brython. She faced Janu. She faced the shadow. "I saw it this morning, but I didn't want to believe it was true. I didn't want to believe Janu was gone once more. But your eyes are not his eyes, no matter how similar they might look. And the smile that now graces your lips is all I need to see to confirm the truth."

The grin widening Janu's cheeks deepened, turning even more sinister. "I didn't think I would fool you for very long. But it was just long enough. I wouldn't have missed this show, not even to kill every air affinity in the kingdom."

Jinji's hand moved before she could control it. The smack of palm against cheek echoed in the air around her, pulsing. The shadow lifted his fingers, running them over the red mark bright on his face, laughing.

"I don't want anyone else to die, not because of me," she said, staring at him hard, trying not to see the face so similar to hers, but the ugly soul beneath it.

The shadow shrugged. "I'm afraid that's not up to you."

"What do you want?" she spat. "What can I do to end it?"

"End it?" He chuckled. "It's barely even begun."

Jinji shook her head, stepping back, stepping away. "The more you speak, the more you make me want to give in to the spirit's request. A few more minutes and you can be gone, sent back to your realm."

"You won't."

"I might."

Jinji forced her clenched fist to open, weaving a sharp blade and placing the hilt in her hand as a warning. A threat.

"I dare you," the shadow whispered.

Jinji moved, rushing Janu and placing the knife to his throat. For a moment, she really thought she might do it, she really believed she would end it. But then the shadow closed his eyes, and when they opened, it was her brother. Those brown globes were warm and soft and so terrifyingly confused.

"Jinji?" he mumbled, jerking his neck away from her weapon, glancing down at the sharp edge. And then he shifted his gaze over her shoulder, sweeping over the mountains surrounding them. "What's going on? What—where are we?"

Jinji jumped back.

The knife disappeared.

"Janu, I—"

Soft laughter interrupted the words.

The steel was back in Janu's gaze. "Too easy."

"So this is what you want, to torture me?" Jinji dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to look at such sinister darkness swirling in her innocent brother's expression.

"You're so…" he trailed off, thinking. Then his brows rose with enlightenment. "So human. Your reactions, they're so much more emotional than those of my spirit-self. So much more vibrant. So much more amusing. But no, it's not you I wish to torture. But the more I hurt you, the stronger you hold on to your convictions and the more trapped my spirit-self becomes. And that tortures her more than you could ever realize."

"Well, it's not working right now," Jinji said, throwing her arms wide. "She's gone. She said she's grown tired of the game. She left me on my own."

The shadow scrunched his brows and pursed his lips then relaxed. "She's there. She's listening. She just doesn't want you to know." And then he shook his head, and when he looked at Jinji, he was looking through her. Talking not to her, but to the spirit hiding somewhere within. "It won't work. How do I know her better than you when you've been with her for her entire life? Leaving her alone? Making her feel abandoned? I did that once. And she just came back stronger than ever against me."

"And what do you think she's trying to accomplish?" Jinji asked.

"It's so obvious," he said, rolling his eyes. Jinji remained silent, waiting for him to continue. And he couldn't help himself, he did. "She wants to weaken you, to make you vulnerable. My spirit-self searches for one thing, the ability to control you the way I control your brother. But you have too strong a will, she can't. Just as I planned."

"You planned for this?" Jinji challenged, wanting more than anything to knock the arrogant grin from his lips, from her brother's lips. That smile was only ever supposed to rise in good-hearted mischief, not goading like this, not haughty. "You give yourself too much credit."

"Do I?" He shrugged. "Perhaps. But I know things you could never dream of. You don't remember the other lives your soul has lived, but I do. I know your brother's past as well. And I knew from the start who the weak one would be. History always finds a way of repeating itself. Just look around you now."

Jinji held her neck stiff, straight, refusing to give in to even the slightest command the shadow threw out. Besides, the image of Brython was fused to her memory. She didn't need to look around to see the similarities between the devastation of the phantom army in the spirit's vision and the devastation around her now.

"Is there nothing I can say, no offer I can make that you would agree to?" Jinji plead, voice growing soft.

"Oh, there are options," he mused, wandering around the plateau they stood on, stepping in circles around Jinji as he thought. "You can kill me and say goodbye to your brother. But I will only return. And you would need to find some way to live with the fact that you murdered the last of your kin."

Jinji clenched her jaw, not speaking.

"Or," he continued lightly, as though it were all some joke. "You could end your brother's life and your life as well, sending the spirit back with me so the two of us can continue our fight in the ether, away from this fragile realm. Of course, there is no guarantee I wouldn't just come back here without her. And then the world would be worse off than before." He stopped, eyes boring into her. "I can just see your prince now, inconsolable over the loss of his love. I don't think you are ready to say goodbye to him just yet."

Jinji shuddered, shivering as a cold spell flashed through her. "Neither of those are options I'm willing to consider."

"I didn't think so."

"Is that it then? Is there no agreement we can come to?"

The shadow stepped closer, stopping a few inches from her body, gazing down at her, making Jinji feel smaller than she had ever felt before. His nostrils flared, eyes burning with fury, a rare slip in his otherwise calm composure. "Your promises mean nothing to me."

Jinji wasn't sure which one of them he was speaking to. But before she could analyze his expression and the anger simmering there, a flash passed over his features, washing them away.

The shadow stepped back, swallowing. "Tell my spirit-self that if she is strong enough to break you, I am willing to hear what she has to say. But there is no deal you can make without her."

Let me talk to him, the voice suddenly spoke, urging Jinji to let her through.

Jinji bit her lip. The voice had been listening. She'd been there all along. Was the shadow right? Was she just biding her time until she could control Jinji the way the shadow controlled Janu? What deal would she make then when Jinji was powerless to stop her?

"Your spirit-self is here," Jinji murmured.

The shadow smiled. "If she isn't powerful enough to speak to me herself, then she isn't yet desperate enough to agree to the deal I want to make. Maybe if a few more cities fade to memory, she will see I'm long past playing games."

Let me through! the voice shouted.

Jinji gritted her teeth, shaking her head no.

The spirit pushed against her, an overwhelming force in the back of Jinji's mind. The pressure grew, painful, a splitting headache tearing Jinji's forehead down the middle, ripping it in two. She winced, fighting the ache as she started to shake.

But Jinji refused to give in.

"Will you promise not to kill him?" she whispered fiercely, forcing the words through her teeth. And the shadow grinned deeper when he realized she wasn't speaking to him, when he took in the agony shifting her features.

The spirit didn't answer.

But the silence was answer enough.

Jinji pushed against her, using all of her will. The pressure in her head broke. The voice's strength snapped, shooting her back into the corner of Jinji's mind, back into the little crevice of space Jinji allowed her to take up. The spirit was thousands, perhaps millions, of years old, but Jinji had something stronger than age on her side—love.

You don't understand! the voice shouted. Jinji closed her eyes as the words rang impossibly loud. You are just a child compared to me, an infant. You are blinded by your emotions. There is no deal to make that your brother will survive. And without a deal, there is no way the world will survive. We all must sacrifice.

"And what are you prepared to sacrifice?" Jinji whispered.

What I must. Whatever I must.

But the words did nothing to soothe Jinji's mind. Because she couldn't hand her future over to another person, not even the spirit. What would happen if she gave up control? The spirit could sacrifice her brother, could sacrifice herself, could sacrifice Rhen and the dragons and the other riders. The more she thought about it, the stronger her convictions became. What else would the shadow want but to have the dragons gone from the world, to have the riders gone, to have the spirit gone? He would ask the spirit to remove every trace of herself from the spirit realm, to be with him in the ether forever. And then what would happen to everyone Jinji loved? The spirit would sacrifice them all in a heartbeat.

Jinji shook her head, trying to dispel the images bombarding her. But she couldn't get rid of them. Rhen's blank, empty eyes stared up at her. Leena's. Janu's. They trusted her, all of them. And she wouldn't let them die. She wouldn't let someone else decide her fate, decide Rhen's fate, decide Janu's fate. Not when there was even the slightest possibility that that decision would lead to their deaths.

Jinji sealed off the corner of her mind, slamming the door shut, locking it tight. The spirit was gone, at least for a little while. She would return—she always did. But maybe Jinji could take advantage of these few moments of peace.

"Can I sacrifice myself to save them all?" Jinji whispered, strength zapped. "Will you leave Janu alone, Rhen alone, if I willingly go to your realm, forcing the spirit to come with me?"

"Interesting," the shadow muttered.

"I'll do it," she said, voice gaining conviction. "If you agree to let Janu live out his life, to let Rhen and Leena and Bran and the dragons survive, if you bring the phantoms back to your shadow realm and keep them there—if you will do all that, I will keep to my promise. The spirit is the one you do not trust to keep to her word, but you can believe me."

The shadow clicked his tongue, pursing his lips and thinking, watching her. Then the corners of his mouth rose, and Jinji knew she had lost him. "No," he said, shaking his head. "No, I don't think that would be any fun, not yet anyway. There is something I want from my spirit-self, and if she would like to hear what it is, she knows where to find me."

And then Janu's body collapsed against the dirt.

Jinji dropped to her knees, cradling her brother's head in her lap, forcing the tears away. There was no choice but to be strong. If she let even one weakness leak through, Jinji would break under the avalanche that would follow.

"He was here," Janu murmured, voice raw, eyelids pressing tight against his cheeks, as though he couldn't even bear to look at her.

Jinji leaned over her brother, placing her palm warmly to his cheek. "Janu."

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "He—"

But then Janu stopped speaking. He gasped, eyes shooting wide as his body began to thrash in Jinji's arms, and his pupils rolled into the back of his head.

"Janu!" she cried, hugging him tight. But the more she pulled him against her chest trying to calm him, the harder his body seemed to shake, rejecting her touch.

"No!" he wailed. And then he whimpered. His body slowed to a soft tremble. "No."

"Janu," Jinji begged, trying to turn his head toward her. But Janu shook off her hands, running to the edge of the ledge, looking out over the empty city below. Jinji held her breath when he stopped just shy of falling. His toes stretched into the empty air, his body was inches from plummeting a hundred feet below. He seemed to be thinking. To be weighing options, body swaying in the wind, forward and back, unsure if either direction could bring relief.

He stumbled back.

He dropped to his knees, body firmly on land.

Jinji let out her breath. She couldn't tell if he knew she would have caught him, that she would never have let him fall. Or if maybe he knew that the shadow would never have let his soul pass over, that even tumbling down a steep cliff couldn't stop him. But she hoped Janu had made the decision for himself, had made the decision to keep fighting, to be strong.

"He summoned them," Janu said, gaze still locked on Brython. "He just showed me, he just made me remember."

Jinji licked her lips, unsure of what to say. She settled on the truth. "He did."

Janu twisted his neck, honey-brown eyes finding hers. The look in his irises scared her. There was a soft light like the dawning of a new day, like a mind newly awakened to the world around it, no longer okay with complacency. "Why did you have a knife to my neck? What did it mean, Jinji? What aren't you telling me?"

She opened her mouth. Took a deep, shaky breath.

Closed it.

Opened it.

Sound escaped her. Words escaped her. Her throat closed shut as a lump formed in the base of her neck. A clog she couldn't unplug. Her lips wobbled, uncertain, searching for something to say, anything that would make it better. But there was nothing. No explanation that could hide the truth.

"Jin."

She sighed with relief, spinning to meet Rhen's downcast gaze. He and his dragon were waiting behind her, watching with concern. But his emerald eyes were filled only with overwhelming grief.

"The people," he said, pausing to swallow. "They're ready for burial."

She nodded.

He held her attention a moment longer, probing, and then took off in flight. Jinji followed the flames, watching the fire dragon circle the city and come to a stop where the other two riders waited beside a pile of bodies that seemed impossibly large.

Janu grasped her arm.

"Later," she said. More than a word. A promise. "After."

His grip eased, fingers relaxing against her skin. "Later."

But his conceding did little to calm her racing nerves because Janu's tone was full and edged with purpose. His words were a promise, just like hers.

They walked in silence through the vacant city. Janu didn't take his eyes off her as they made their way to the others. He didn't remove his gaze as the earth dragon stomped, shaking the ground, opening a deep crevice in the middle of the town square. He hardly blinked as Jinji used her powers to gently ease the dead into their new underground home.

Rhen said a Whylkin prayer, voice thick. Leena followed suit, blessing them in the words of her homeland. Bran wiped away tears as he dropped a handful of yellow flowers over the grave. And then Jinji knelt, placing her palms to the cobblestone, sealing the hole shut and leaving in its place a statue at the center of Brython—a stone dragon with wings spread protectively over the ground, guarding their souls. And from its eye, a single tear fell. A drop that not even time would dry.

Through it all, Jinji sensed Janu by her side, staring, never once looking away from his sister.

10

RHEN

~ BRYTHON ~

After the ceremony, Rhen had to get away. To escape. His skin crawled with the urge to yell, to throw his frustration into the sky, and release it unto the world, if only to relieve the pressure in his chest.

When the rest of the group went to the castle in search of a meal and a next move, Rhen jumped on Firestorm's back and disappeared into the clouds. Bran shouted after him. Leena made the move to follow, preparing her dragon for flight. But it was Jinji who stopped them, holding out her hand, understanding that he needed space. She had seen him like this before, on those long days spent sailing away from Rayfort, when he believed he was abandoning his family to certain death. But this was far worse than even that. They had failed. Rhen had failed. And a whole city of innocents had paid the price.

So Rhen led Firestorm through the mountains, searching the sloping cliffs for any sign of survivors, for men and women who had fled at the first sign of the ebony mist. But there was no one. The shadow had been thorough in his destruction.

"Do you see anyone?" he whispered in Firestorm's ear.

The dragon sent back a wave of dismay that rippled beneath Rhen's skin, mirroring the emotions in his heart.

No one. Nothing.

He leaned forward, resting his torso against Firestorm's neck, dropping his head and closing his eyes for a moment. The flames covered him in a warm blanket, sinking heat into his cold limbs. The fire soothed. The world became nothing more than crackling sparks, a comforting inferno. Even behind closed lids, the blaze flashed. Swirls of orange and yellow pierced the darkness.

Firestorm roared.

The dragon snapped his wings in, dropping into a steep dive.

Rhen jerked, moving his hands to grip charcoal scales, holding on tight as his body lost balance. Forcing his eyes open, he righted himself, fighting to see through the gray fog, to find what Firestorm saw. They broke through the clouds, sinking quickly toward the rocky terrain.

And then Rhen saw it.

The rough outline of a man.

From so far away, he was just a speck, a blob of black standing on a small plateau. But something felt off. Felt wrong. And the closer they flew, the more Rhen realized he wasn't a man at all.

A phantom.

Alone and watching them fast approach.

A mere twenty feet from crashing into the ground, Firestorm spread his wings, banking in a wide arc, stopping quickly as his claws slammed hard against the earth. Rhen remained perched on his back, watching the eerie black mist glide closer. But Firestorm didn't back away, didn't hurl a ball of fire at the oscillating form, he waited.

The ghost felt familiar.

To both of them.

Rhen stayed where he was. But he couldn't stop from calling out, "Are you the last rider?"

The mist didn't respond. Though it had no face, no true form, Rhen still felt eyes roll over him. The foggy shape paused a few inches from the dragon. Firestorm didn't move. Rhen took his cue, watching warily. The phantom pulled its swirling vapor back into the condensed form of a man, and then it nodded. He was the last rider. He was the soul who had visited Rhen before, the soul who had led him to the cave beneath the castle of Rayfort and to the underground palace in Airedale. Most importantly, this spirit had led him to his dragon.

But now I have my dragon, Rhen thought, running his hand over Firestorm's rough scales, feeling the fire burn his fingertips and pulling the heat beneath his skin. What is there left to show me?

But before Rhen could open his mouth to ask, the phantom stretched out its arm, placing his translucent palm over Firestorm's snout.

As soon as they touched, the world went black.

Rhen slipped away, free falling through an endless abyss. Colors began to swirl in his peripheral. But rather than feel frightened, Rhen accepted the onslaught. Because he realized exactly what was happening. The phantom had sought him out to show him an event from ages past, a memory locked within his soul. Firestorm, the phantom, and Rhen were all connected—two riders and their shared dragon. And through that magical tie, Rhen was being pulled into a vision—a memory from a thousand years before, a memory that might hold the key to defeating the shadow.

He opened his eyes, shooting out of bed as the echo of a scream still rang in his ears. He blinked, twisting his head this way and that, listening. But the room was silent. The halls outside the door were silent.

A dream.

Just a dream.

He breathed a sigh of relief, stretching his arms over his head. The days had been filled with such doom recently, such destruction. But glancing out the window, he saw blue stretch on for eternity. Endless. Today would be a good day. His love was due to return. A new rider was to be chosen in the late hours of the afternoon. All four dragons would be reunited again, and the gaping hole at the loss of his dear friend would be filled in some small way. This had been the second rider to die in his lifetime. And that was two too many. But the darkness had returned to the land.

Eyes still gazing out the window, he shook his head. The morning was too beautiful to be wasted. He sensed his dragon out there, lazily soaring across an empty sky, letting flames roll effortlessly off his back, and he called him home. Today, he wanted to fly—not to some distant battle, but for fun, to remember the joy he too often forgot.

They felt the knife at the same time.

Rider and dragon cried out together despite the distance between them.

He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. But the wound was not there. Instead, a connection in his heart disappeared, winked out of existence. And through the window, he saw a forest-green shape begin to fall toward the sea, wings limp and lifeless. Halfway to the water, the earth dragon dissolved into the air, disappearing. That body would reappear deep in the mountain, slumbering, awaiting a new rider. It could only mean one thing—his dear friend, the earth rider, had been killed.

A scream rippled across the castle.

The scream of a child.

He abandoned the window, forgetting his dragon, forgetting the open sky, and raced through the empty halls.

Another screech pierced, bouncing off white stone, echoing.

Where was everyone else?

The riders? The trainees? The staff?

The bedrooms were empty.

He turned toward the dining hall. Empty too.

Another cry, but this time he knew where it was coming from. The main hall. Of course—the spot where everyone was gathering to wait for her return, for their leader to come home. She had been gone too long, visiting distant cities to warn them of the coming war, of the phantoms now roaming the earth. Already, the human forces had retreated, pulling close to this ivory mountain home where they were strongest. The dragons had buried armies of the dead under rock and under water, and still they came.

Were they here?

Was it possible?

His chest tore down the middle as he turned the corner to a sea of red splashed over the floor, over the walls, staining the stones beneath his feet.

"No!" he shouted.

But the bodies around him were no mirage.

He sank to the closest man, a member of the kitchen staff. He served their meals every morning. He cleaned their rooms while they trained. A normal man, not a rider, not even a potential rider. Why would anyone kill him?

The next was a little girl, a new recruit only recently brought to the mountain fortress, only just beginning her training as a potential rider. Utterly innocent.

On and on it went, his friends and dearest comrades strewn across the floor, blood spattered everywhere. But there was no enemy in sight. Just death. Just destruction. He screamed, anger like a violent inferno raging in his belly. His dragon was close. Vengeance would be his soon enough.

"I saved you for last," a voice said from behind.

He spun, eyes widening in shock as they landed not on an enemy but on a friend he recognized. Their blacksmith. He had only arrived yesterday for his annual monthly stay. "Petar?"

The man smiled gleefully, laughing softly under his breath. His eyes were white, shrouded in ivory, impossibly inhuman. And when Petar spoke, it was in a voice that was familiar while at the same time unrecognizable. "Not quite."

"Who are you?" He slipped his hand around the knife strapped to his belt, yanking it free and raising it in defense.

The smile on Petar's face deepened. "I see my spirit-self has not told you everything." The man shook his head. "Just as I suspected. She can't help herself, always lying. Always telling half-truths to make herself look better to you humans, to fit in. When will she learn? She's not supposed to fit in, not here. She has a place where she can be herself, be every part of herself. Good and bad. I would never judge her for it."

"I don't understand," he said, wasting time as he felt his fire dragon near the castle. Soon, he could fight. For now, he would delay. "Did you kill all of these people? Why?"

The man shrugged. "To show her what it feels like to be alone, to be abandoned."

"To show who?"

The man narrowed his eyes. And even though they were empty and white, they somehow seemed filled with fury. "You of all people know the woman I speak of."

But he didn't get a chance to answer. The face of his love flashed before his eyes, and a moment later, the man rushed him, sword slashing toward his belly. Unlike the real Petar, a former knight of the kingdom, this man was untrained, moving clumsily like a child, weight off-balance, easy to outmaneuver.

And he did.

With a few simple steps, he cornered Petar and jammed his knife deep in his belly. As his friend fell, his eyes cleared, returning to their usual hazel.

"I—" Petar muttered, trying to speak as blood rolled through his open lips.

"I'm sorry," he said, sinking down with his friend, holding him as his life faded. What had he done? He had thought this body a fake, an intruder, the enemy? How? Who?

But a knife landed in his back before he could ask any further questions. Petar slipped from his arms as he spun. A second knife landed in his chest, thrown from the hands of a woman resting on the ground, near death herself. But those eyes were white and full of foreign purpose.

He stumbled back.

He tripped over a body by his feet.

The woman watching him with a blank ivory stare smiled, teeth stained red. "My spirit-self never learns from her mistakes. If she had just told you the truth about me, about who I am and who she is, you might all be alive." She laughed. It turned into morbid gurgle. And then she fell back.

He crawled toward the front steps of the castle, dragging his heavy limbs through the bodies of his closest friends.

His love was almost home. He could feel her through the bond, could sense her traveling toward him. If he could just hold out a little longer, she might be able to heal him. She might be able to tell him the truth. She might be able to explain what happened, why everyone he knew in the world was now lying in an ever-expanding pool of blood.

The white walls around him began to spot with black.

His body stopped listening to his commands.

He stilled, life fading slowly away, waiting and hoping she might save him.

Rhen blinked as the massacre faded from his eyes, replaced with gray stone and gray clouds. A bleak mountain scene gradually came into view. Firestorm shuffled his feet, shifting Rhen around as they both awoke from the memory dazed, skin crawling. He knew what he'd just witnessed—the phantom's last few moments of life, a scene from the shadow's victory over a thousand years ago, the victory that banished the dragons and their riders from memory.

Rhen glanced to the front of Firestorm's snout, searching for the phantom, searching for answers, for an explanation as to why he'd needed to witness this dark moment so long past and what clue it possibly held. But the shadowy figure was gone just as swiftly as he'd appeared.

"Where'd he go?" Rhen whispered, looking around. What had the vision meant? What was he supposed to learn? That there was no defeating the shadow? That there never was?

Firestorm was just as confused. Rider and dragon spent a few moments in silence, searching the gray rock for some other sign, but there was no trace of the shadow or the message he was trying to relay.

"Let's get back to the others," Rhen said, sighing. Perhaps someone else could decipher the warning. Maybe Jinji had seen it in a past life, maybe she already knew.

Firestorm pumped his wings.

As they lifted into the sky, Rhen couldn't help himself. A nagging urge made him look down just one more time, to scan the area quickly before he was gone forever. And when he did, he saw it. Scrawled into the dirt were two words. Though Firestorm had sent a cloud of dust into the air with his wings and shifted the dirt with his feet, the message was loud and clear.

True body.

Rhen squinted, holding Firestorm in place as they hovered over the spot. But there was nothing else. Just those two lonely words and the ominous pulse that prickled the air around them.

Fly, he thought. The dragon listened, swooping away from the plateau and soaring back over the mountains toward the silent city they had left behind.

"True body," Rhen mumbled, speaking to himself, hardly seeing the world around him as Firestorm led him home. Those two words were the key to the shadow's undoing. He was positive. And the closer they traveled to Brython, the clearer the picture became.

By the time Firestorm landed beside the two other dragons, both resting peacefully without their riders, Rhen's skin buzzed with excitement. He barely said goodbye as he jumped from his dragon's back, sprinting toward the empty castle in search of Jinji. He found her in the kitchens with the others, munching on food silently. The mood was solemn, quiet and pensive as the only heroes the world had left contemplated their utter failure. And Rhen, with his newfound enthusiasm, entered the room like a maelstrom of activity.

"Jin! I need to speak with you immediately," he called. Jinji, Leena, and Bran looked up from their plates, a little alarmed but mostly curious. Janu, he noticed, sat in the corner, staring at the wall with a deep frown darkening his features. The man was lost in his own mind, barely aware of the world around him.

"What?" Jinji asked.

He stepped closer, taking her hand from the loaf of bread she had crumbled to pieces and slipping her fingers through his. "I have a theory I need to discuss with you."

"Can you discuss it with all of us?" Leena asked, brows cinched. "We could use the distraction."

Jinji immediately jumped from her seat, glancing around the room and shaking her head. "No, we should talk alone."

Rhen shrugged. "There's no need. This is something we should all hear. I believe I might have found the way to defeat the shadow."

He couldn't help but notice that Janu jerked his head, swiveling quickly to watch Rhen, eyes sharp. But Leena and Bran stepped forward, also captivated by his words. Small smiles gathered on their lips, the first sign of hope they'd had all day.

Jinji gripped his hand tighter. Beneath her skin, he felt her pulse quicken, heart beating rapidly in her chest. "Please, Rhen, let's talk in private."

"Why?" Janu asked, tone low.

Jinji turned on her brother. "Because," she started, frustration evident, "I know many things about the shadow that no one else does. I wouldn't want everyone to get excited if Rhen's discovery is something I have already thought of and know won't work."

"But—" Leena began.

"No!" Jinji shouted.

A blast of wind tore through the kitchen, pushing Rhen out the door and silencing any more protests. He stumbled backward, blown over, until the gust died down, depositing him near the front steps of the castle. Silent and alone.

Shuffling feet drew his attention. A moment later, Jinji appeared in the hall, shoulders drooped low. But her eyes were wide, crazed. And he knew in that instant, there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Jin," he whispered.

She stopped a foot away from him, shaking her head. "Please, not now. Let's go find a place to talk."

He reached out, gripping her arm softly until she gazed up at him. "You can't treat us like this."

She blinked, looking away. Disappointment flashed over her honey-brown irises—disappointment in herself. "I know."

"You are more powerful than any of us," Rhen continued, pushing the point, "but that doesn't mean you should force us to obey you just because you can. You're our leader, and I know you want us to follow out of respect, not out of obligation. The nobles, the kings, perhaps they will only listen out of fear for how you might react should they disobey. But we are your riders. Not your equals, but your comrades, your friends. You have our respect and our trust. Don't lose it, not when the world hangs in the balance."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, stepping away. Rhen let her go, waiting for an explanation, but she offered none. Her eyes were bright with swirling thoughts, but her lips remained shut, sealed tight, and they showed no signs of opening. For the first time in a long time, Jinji didn't let Rhen in.

"Come," he finally said after a few moments of strangled silence. "I know a place where we can talk and I can tell you what I've learned."

He led her upstairs to a sitting room he remembered using once a long time ago, when he and his family had visited Brython on a royal tour of the kingdom. Jinji walked past the row of chairs and the plush couch, instead dropping down on a bench tucked beneath the window. Rhen took the seat beside her, and without warning, she curled into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She hugged her small arms around him, burrowing against his side, seemingly taking shelter from the world. Rhen pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head, holding her as he stared through the window.

Outside, the sun was beginning to drop in the sky, sending a warm yellow light through the mountains, covering Brython in a soft foggy halo.

Inside, the woman in his arms began to tremble.

"Jin, what's wrong?"

She shook her head against his chest. "I wish—" She took a deep, shaky breath, stopping herself. "I wish I could tell you, more than you know I wish I could. But I can't. Not yet."

And Rhen, because he trusted her with his whole heart, ended his questioning. There had been too many times in recent memory that Jinji, so strong and so defiant, had felt so fragile. The woman he held was one breath away from breaking, and it killed him that he didn't fully understand why.

"Shh," he whispered, running his palms up and down her arms, sending the heat from his always-fiery core into her cold, shivering limbs. And then he said the one thing he was hoping might ease her fears, might lighten the burden weighing down her heart. "I think I might have discovered how to defeat the shadow," Rhen murmured, repeating his earlier statement. Jinji didn't respond. She felt numb in his arms. Rhen leaned back slightly, trying to meet her eyes, but her gaze was locked outside, unblinking. He continued, "When I was out with Firestorm, a phantom visited us. The same one I saw in Rayfort, the same one that led us to that underground castle and sent us the clues about the existence of the dragons. He was Firestorm's previous rider, and he touched the dragon, somehow sending us both a memory from ages past."

Jinji finally looked at him. "What memory?"

"Of his death. Of a massacre that took place in the castle at the top of the Gates. He—"

"I've seen it," Jinji interrupted him, tone growing sad. "How does that help?"

"It doesn't," Rhen said, shaking his head to make her listen. "But what happened afterward does. The phantom left us a message scrawled in the dirt. Two words. True body." Jinji inhaled sharply, leaning back as her eyes grew wide, filling with panic—with a worry Rhen didn't understand. He pressed on. "I think I know what it means. We've only ever seen the shadow in possession of another person's body, holding them captive. But he must have a body of his own, a true body that his soul is tied to. If we can find it, and kill it, maybe—"

Jinji stopped him by grabbing his cheeks and pulling his face against hers, kissing him urgently. Rhen tried to pull away, to understand why she wasn't thrilled by the news, but her hands traveled to the back of his neck, grip tight, and he couldn't break her hold. Her lips moved fast against his, pleading with him silently. Everything about her was desperately trying to hold on to the moment, to stop time, as though she were drowning and the air from his lungs was the only thing that might save her, as though he were her tether to life.

Rhen wanted to give in. More than anything, he wanted to melt beneath her touch and forget the world, to kiss her until the sun rose the next morning, and even then maybe not stop. He could so easily get lost in the fire of her touch, the silkiness of her skin.

But he couldn't let himself.

The woman he loved was in pain.

Her kiss wasn't full of passion. It was full of dread. Rhen sensed the dark taste on his tongue.

"Jin," he mumbled against her lips.

But she didn't stop.

Rhen reached back, unlatching her fingers, pulling her forcibly away from him, finding her eyes. "Jin?"

And with that word, she couldn't avoid what was in her heart any longer. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she gave in, collapsing against him as her body racked with sobs. The moans came from a dark place within her, ripping their way up her throat, making him wince at the sound.

Rhen wanted to demand answers.

He wanted to force her to explain, to let him in, to tell him what had her so distraught.

But he didn't.

He just held her, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back. Not questioning. Not demanding. There would be time for answers later. Right now, Jinji needed a shoulder to cry on and nothing more. He gave that to her, embracing her until sleep claimed them both.

11

JINJI

~ BRYTHON ~

Jinji woke shivering against a cold stone floor as the morning breeze brushed her cheeks, stealing all the heat from her skin. Blinking, a cloudy canopy came into view overhead, moving gently in the wind. She hugged her arms around her torso and sat up, trying to understand where she was.

Outside. But where? Why?

She looked around, finding a low stone wall with vertical slits, sensing that the air was the slightest bit thinner. Walking to the edge, Jinji realized she was on top of one of the castle towers, still in Brython. The last thing she remembered of the night before was falling asleep in Rhen's arms, desperately afraid that he would come to his senses, would start to question her, would press for answers she wasn't prepared to give—that she knew about the true body, that it was her brother, that she had been lying to everyone for days while desperately searching for some alternate ending to this war.

But no.

Rhen had done the exact opposite, always surprising her. All night, he had cocooned her in his love, made her feel safe and warm, and now her stomach rumbled with nausea just thinking of how selfish she had been. Maybe her mind had done what her heart could not—maybe deep in sleep, she had left Rhen, unable to continue the lie any longer. But that still didn't explain why she'd come here, outside in the freezing cold, alone.

Taking one last look at the view and the empty city nestled into the valley below, Jinji turned away, leaving her doubts behind. It was time to move on. It was time to find the last dragon. She had to keep moving forward. If she stopped for even a second, if she questioned for even a moment, everything would fall apart. She was certain.

Jinji found the others in the kitchen where she had left them the night before.

"It's time to go," she said.

Leena leaned forward, placing her forearms on the table and narrowing her wide eyes, an expression that fell somewhere between suspicion and hope. "Rhen told us his theory this morning. Why is it you didn't want us to learn what he'd learned?"

Jinji sighed, glancing around the room. Bran was also watching her with a wary expression, and she couldn't judge him or Leena for that reaction. After her actions last night, she had earned their suspicion. But still, Jinji edged around the question, asking one of her own instead of answering. "About the true body?"

Leena nodded. So did Bran.

But when Jinji slipped her eyes to her brother, expecting that same challenging stare, he was instead leaning back with his arms crossed, unrecognizably relaxed. And then he winked, barely covering his grin.

The shadow was back.

He was listening.

"Rhen is right," she admitted, already feeling the weight of so many lies bearing down on her shoulders, exhausting her. "The shadow does have a true body. I've known this for some time, but that will not help us, not really. It is a start, but not the answer we need."

"Why not?" Bran asked, expression guarded. Leena's, she noticed, was the same. They were waiting for her to give them a reason to believe her, to follow her.

Jinji sank into the chair next to Rhen and grabbed his hand under the table, gripping it for strength. The time had come to reveal at least part of the truth. If she didn't speak honestly, she would lose their trust. Already, her riders were slipping away, unease evident in their eyes. And Jinji wasn't ready to let them go, not yet.

"I've not been totally honest with you …" she began. And then Jinji told them all about the spirit inside her head and of the fight that had been cycling for centuries between the shadow and his spirit-self, sharing visions of her past lives. Even as her voice caught, she admitted to her riders that the shadow could be killed if its true body was killed. She warned it would be a temporary fix, not a real solution. She never lied, not exactly. She just forgot to mention that she already knew whom the true body belonged to—that the shadow was sitting and listening to their conversation right now, hidden behind the face of Janu.

And when Jinji looked over toward her brother's body, surprise lined the shadow's eyes as he listened to her spill information he thought she would keep close. But it was partly due to the shadow that she told the truth now. Like he often said, his spirit-self liked keeping secrets, and Jinji didn't want to follow that same road. She didn’t want to end up alone.

With each word, the next came easier. A weight began to lift from her heart.

Maybe she could tell them the whole truth.

Maybe they would all understand.

Maybe.

"So," Rhen said when she was done, still holding on to her fingers. "If we kill the shadow's true self, he will just return as someone else?"

"Yes," she agreed. "Eventually."

"But if we do, the phantoms will stop coming, at least for a time?" he asked.

"Yes, but—"

"I think we have no other choice," he interrupted.

Her heart sank. "I—"

"I agree," Leena said, cutting in.

"Me as well," Bran added.

"But that won't solve anything," Jinji said, voice rising in frustration. "Did you not hear what I just said? The shadow will only come back. The only way to stop this is to figure out what he wants from us and to give it to him."

"But according to this voice of yours, what he wants is impossible," Rhen retorted, his face growing more animated with each passing word. "You say the last time, the voice agreed to go back with him to this middle world, this ether. And with her presence gone from our living world, it began to die in some way that only she can sense. Which is why she came back and broke her word to the shadow, to save our world from destruction. So no matter what, the shadow wants to end the world as we know it. Either this spirit will return with him to the ether and the world will slowly crumble without her presence, or the phantoms will destroy us all. At least if we find this true body and we destroy it, we'll gain some time to figure out a next step. And perhaps there is no next step—maybe that's why the dragons were created in the first place. To keep finding this true body and to keep destroying it."

Jinji had no response. She just swallowed, soul breaking into little shards as she glanced around at her three riders, their eyes shining in agreement. They had a leader. And for the first time, she realized, it wasn't her.

Leena reached out, placing a warm friendly hand on her shoulder. "Rhen's right. If we can just give ourselves more time, maybe when the shadow returns, we will know how to defeat him once and for all."

Jinji didn't move.

Rhen answered for her. "Exactly. First, we find the air rider. And then we concentrate on finding the true body and destroying it."

His voice was invigorated, more alive than it had been in days.

Leena's smile was wide, gaze brimming over with new hope.

Even Bran had more bounce in his step.

Jinji remained still as the three of them continued chatting, discussing the best ways to locate this true body, how they could destroy it. Her riders left the kitchen, not realizing she didn't follow. They searched for their dragons, ready to move now that a plan had been established. But Jinji stayed put, staring into blank space, wondering what in the world she had just done.

Why had she told them the truth?

She had thought for a split second maybe they would be on her side, maybe they would understand. For a moment, Jinji had let herself believe the voice had been wrong about Rhen, about how he would react to her brother's true identity. But now she was more certain than ever. If he found out the true body was Janu, he would hate her. He would kill her brother. And there would be no coming back from that.

"I'm touched you are so bothered by the idea of my imminent demise," the shadow whispered.

Jinji flinched. She had forgotten she wasn’t alone, and she met her brother's eyes with trepidation. "I'm not fighting for you."

"And yet, here we are, alone again. I'm curious, why not just tell them who I am and get it over with? Surely, they'll listen to you."

But there was too much humor coloring those words. He knew exactly why she had remained silent. Jinji chose not to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Did I hear the fire rider say he would lead you toward Roninhythe in search of the last rider? I've been to those ports before. Plenty of ships overflowing with sailors."

She snapped her head up, narrowing her gaze. "He said no such thing."

The shadow shrugged. "I'm quite sure I heard Roninhythe is your next destination. Maybe that was before you arrived. What did happen to you during the night? Wandering the halls again? Did you like the view?"

The mocking edge to his tone was unmistakable. Somehow, the shadow knew Jinji had woken alone on top of one of the castle towers. Even more aggravating, Jinji sensed that somehow he knew what had brought her there in the first place. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of admitting that she herself had no clue why or how she'd gotten there. So, with a shrug, she smoothly replied, "I needed some fresh air."

The shadow's smile deepened meaningfully, as though he could taste the lie hanging in the space between them. "I hope the mountain breeze cleared your doubts. You're going to need to be ready if you want to defeat my army."

"Why? What are you planning?"

"Oh, nothing," he murmured, sighing. "I just hope the city your prince loves so much is still standing by the time you arrive."

"Stop!" she shouted, standing, pulling on the shadow's shirt and tugging him close. "Just stop. Leave those people be."

He started to laugh. "What would be the fun in that?"

And then he was gone. The clouds in his eyes cleared. Jinji shifted, pulling her brother into her chest and hugging him tight, trying to hide the hate gleaming deep in the ebony shadows of her irises.

"Jinji?" The voice was all Janu.

She shook her head, leaning back and turning around, unable to look at him. "We must go. We must wake the last dragon before it is too late."

"What happened? What has the shadow done now?" He grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop. "What aren't you telling me?"

Jinji met her brother's earnest honey gaze, wincing inwardly. "There's no time. The shadow is sending his army to an innocent city, and we must get there before he does."

Janu released her, flinching.

Without another word, they both raced after the riders. All three of them were already sitting on the backs of their dragons, awaiting orders.

"We make for Roninhythe at once," Jinji called out as she and Janu approached. "The shadow is sending the phantoms there, and we must do what we can to stop them."

"What can we do without the last rider?" Bran asked, eyes shaded with doubt.

"I have a plan," was all Jinji replied.

Because, yes, she did have a plan. Not to defeat the phantoms but to find the last rider without the shadow knowing, without him being able to find a way to stop her. There would be no more cut throats. No more people with ties to the elements dying on her account. In the last minute, running through those empty halls of the castle of Brython with Janu by her side, Jinji had a moment of clarity. Though she trusted her brother with all of her heart, she didn't trust the shadow at all. And so even if he was Janu right now, open eyes and honest heart, the shadow could be listening. She needed to act alone. She needed the shadow to believe she was falling into his hands, that the dragons were racing for Roninhythe as he suggested rather than searching for the final rider, as she knew he feared.

Janu stepped inside the cage she wove, waiting for a dragon to carry him. And Rhen, noticing she didn't follow her brother, let his lip rise in a smile. He shifted forward, making room for her on Firestorm's back. Oh, how she wanted to go to him. To wrap her arms around him. To hold on tight and fly, pretending for a little while to leave her worries on the ground.

But Jinji couldn't. Rhen was the leader. He would soar at the front of the pack—too visible to Janu and to the shadow. And if she was being completely honest with herself, he would ask too many questions—questions she wouldn't be able to answer.

Instead, she turned to Leena and the icy dragon. Lightening her now usually grave tone, Jinji commented, "I'm tired of being surrounded by so many men."

The princess grinned, scooting forward. "Tempest and I would be happy to have you."

"Tempest, eh?" Rhen called, voice a notch too jovial, covering his disappointment. A guilty pit formed in Jinji's gut—she had disappointed him too many times of late. And deep down, she knew there would be more disappointments to come.

But Leena didn't notice. She ran her hand over her dragon's cool, reflective body, watching the scales ripple like the surface of the sea. "It fits her." And then she paused before continuing. "It fits us."

"Well, let's see if you ladies can keep up," Rhen shouted over his shoulder, already lifting into the air. Bran took off next, gripping the cage holding Janu in his claws, following Rhen. Jinji took her time climbing onto the water dragon's back and wrapping her arms around Leena's thin waist, not nearly as sturdy to hold on to as Rhen. She shivered slightly against the icy scales, so much colder than those of the fire dragon, but her body adjusted as she knew it would.

"Ready?" Leena asked, voice eager for flight.

Jinji nodded. But as the water dragon shot into the air as smooth as a swiftly moving current, faster than a racing river, Jinji's grip tightened.

"She's fast, isn't she?" Leena teased.

Too fast, Jinji thought, noticing that Bran and his bulky earth dragon were already quickly approaching, despite the head start they'd had. And the fiery blaze of Rhen up ahead burned brighter every second.

"I need you to stay back," she whispered, afraid that even now with the open air rushing by, the shadow might somehow be listening.

Leena heard. Tempest slowed, moving her wings like a rolling wave rather than an ocean storm. But the princess couldn't help but look over her shoulder, turning a curious eye on Jinji, silently questioning her with those beautifully dark umber irises.

"What are you planning?" she asked.

"There is something I must do alone, and I don't want Rhen to see because I fear he would be worried. The dragons are needed in Roninhythe, and I do not want to be the cause of your delay."

Leena kept her eyes on Jinji for a moment longer, locking their gazes. Her olive skin seemed to darken a shade, mirroring the seriousness of her features. "Jinji?"

She nodded, apprehensive. But Leena deserved her attention. After all they had been through, she deserved whatever explanation Jinji could provide.

"I know you have more on your shoulders than any of us could understand, that the presence of this spirit gives you great power but also great responsibility. You have saved my life on more than one occasion, bringing my body back from the dead, giving my soul the freedom and purpose it always yearned for, connecting me to my dragon." Leena paused, swallowing, searching for the right words. Her voice was deep with meaning. "But please do not lie to me. I trust you when you say you cannot tell me something. You've earned that trust. And I believe all of us have earned the truth. When you are ready, we will be there to listen, to help carry the burden you for some reason feel the need to carry all by yourself."

Without another word, the princess turned back around, leading Tempest in a lazy flight path, swerving left and then right in wide sweeps. Her words sunk in, hitting Jinji deep in her core. And she thought of them for a long time, stuck in her own head as they gradually lost sight of Rhen and Bran, flying close enough to follow but far enough that they were nothing more than spots on the horizon.

Time passed quickly, and the mountains soon smoothed into a lush green landscape. Northmore Forest. Her home. Jinji ached to dive deep into those woods and lose herself in the twisting vines and towering trees. But at the same time, her throat began to close and a fist tightened over her heart. When she had left weeks ago, she never expected to return. And even now, just the idea of finding that little clearing she called home for her entire life was too painful to bear.

Jinji closed her eyes, trying to block out the hurt.

But behind those lids, she saw images she hadn't allowed herself to see for quite some time. The face of Maniuk, the person she was to be joined with, as he pulled the knife across his neck, eyes clearing in death and widening in horror as he realized what the shadow had made him do. Leoa, her dearest friend, still on the ground as blood spilled from the arrow wound in her heart. Her mother and father still in their hut, bodies sliced open. And Jinji, alone, surrounded by the dead.

But those weren't even the most painful memories.

The worst was remembering the little things she would never experience again. The music of Leoa's laugh. The silky touch of her mother's hands. The loving warmth of her father's gaze. The minty taste of the tribal tea. The scent of burning wood that filled the clearing as the eternal fire was replenished. The thud of wind pressing against their sleeping quarters at night. The beauty of a life she would never have again. The simplicity of it.

Jinji shifted behind Leena, opening her eyes.

The urgent need to leave filled her gut.

She had to get away before the memories overwhelmed her. Before she let them flood her senses. Before she forgot that the forest was no longer her life, and she had more important plans to follow.

"I must go," she said, louder than she meant, slightly panicked.

"Now?" Leena asked, turning. "Should I land Tempest? Where should we go?"

"No," Jinji shook her head. This had been the plan all along anyway, to make a quick and sudden exit. The timing was just coming sooner than she planned.

Jinji brought her feet in, gripping Leena by the shoulders, and tried to stand. Her small body was crunched compactly, fighting the pressure of the wind, crouching down as her muscles flexed, getting ready for movement. Adrenaline punched through her veins, alighting her every sense on fire, until a giddy excitement filled her chest and raced across her limbs.

"Jinji, what are you doing?" Leena called, alarmed, guttural Ourthuri pitch rising an octave. She tried to turn around, to see what Jinji was preparing to do. But with Jinji putting so much weight on her shoulders, the princess couldn't move at all.

"Don't let them see I'm gone until you are already in Roninhythe."

"Jinji!" Leena hissed.

"Stay calm," Jinji ordered. "And stay close. The other dragons can still sense your presence. You are all connected, especially while in flight."

"Stay safe," Leena said back.

Jinji squeezed her friend's shoulder, a silent thank you. "I'll meet you in Roninhythe soon."

And then she jumped.

Wind whipped and her stomach flew into her throat as she fought the urge to scream as loud as she could. Fear clogged her mind, slowed it. The ground approached quickly. The forest was no longer a large green blanket. Individual trees poked through the top. The blue of the sky was quickly fading from the edges of her vision.

Think!

Jinji screamed at herself, fighting the fear.

Act!

She closed her eyes and wove the elements, squeezing her lids shut and depending on her powers to keep her safe.

A moment later, Jinji landed against a soft body. She ran her hands over the silky feathers, breathing a sigh of relief as the wind rushed around her, sliding over her body. And then she opened her eyes, smiling at the giant eagle that had caught her. Its golden brown feathers shimmered in the sun. To either side, wings outstretched, gliding through the breeze. And in front, its head ticked back and forth before finally swiveling far enough for one fiery eye to land directly on her.

"To the Gates," she whispered, grinning.

Just because she didn't have a dragon didn't mean she couldn't fly. And as the eagle soared below her, pumping its wings, racing through the sky, Jinji couldn't believe she hadn't thought of this before.

The pearly mountain peaks of the Gates arrived too soon. Almost regretfully, Jinji steered the eagle closer, circling the top of the tallest summit. Looking down, her eyes traveled over the steep cliffs, searching for the cavern where the air dragon slumbered. A translucent yellow form slipped in and out of view, camouflaged against the rock, but it was enough for Jinji. The elements called to her. The eagle dropped down, coming to a soft landing beside the sleeping dragon.

You cannot wake him yourself, the voice said, suddenly returning. Her tone was doubtful as Jinji slid from the eagle's back, stepping over to the nearly invisible dragon whose body was almost as clear as the wind, blending into its surroundings.

"I'm not trying to wake him," Jinji said, pushing the spirit away. She wasn't welcome in her head anymore. The voice sighed, but retreated, leaving her alone.

Jinji stretched out her hand, running her fingers over the soft scales at the tip of the air dragon's snout. His breath landed against her arm, gentle and warm. His eyes didn’t open at her touch. He didn't move. But deep in her heart, Jinji felt a connection form, the familiar embrace of two souls rejoining after so many ages apart.

"I need your help," she whispered. "Somewhere out there, your rider waits. A boy or a girl. A woman or a man. I do not know. All I know is that whoever it is, he is in grave danger. I know you can hear me. Have you felt that your rider is alive? You must sense his soul. You must feel the connection. Please, tell me where to go. Tell me who it is. And I will find him for you. I will bring him back. You'll fly once more."

Jinji waited, holding her breath.

The dragon didn't move. The only change was the shifting pressure of air blowing in and then out of its mouth.

And then an awareness blossomed in the back of her mind, a foreign one. Jinji welcomed the dragon's vision. Clearing all other thoughts, she tugged that single image forward until it took over, drew her in, and made the world fall away.

He thrived on panic.

The streets around him pulsed with alarm. Word had come from Rayfort, from Fayfall, word of dragons brought to life and a girl with unimaginable powers. They said the sky had blazed with flames. They said the rebels were crushed before the war even began. That the Ourthuri would soon come to enact King Razzaq's revenge. That the ghosts of the fallen would return with vengeance in their hearts. People whispered that the world was ending.

Nonsense.

People would believe anything, the more absurd the better. A Son of Whyl that could breathe fire? That rumor stayed around for ages. But this, this was something else entirely. The city of Lothlian was going crazy. And for someone like him, that meant it was time to get to work. So he walked the streets, searching for easy prey.

There.

A lord up ahead, fat and lazy, struggling to stay upright on his horse. But that wasn't what had caught his eye. No, what drew his attention was the hint of gold flashing from the pocket of the saddle. Coins like that could keep him fed for days, for weeks. And he was fast—quicker than any other thief on the streets. The Ghost. That's what they called him because he could be in and out of someone's pocket quicker than the wind.

The horse was strolling toward him.

The lord was focused on holding the reins, on trying to keep the animal straight.

He paused, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. His eyes caught a puddle in the street. His reflection glimmered in the water.

Jinji pulled out of the vision as soon as she caught sight of his face. Brown hair. Sandy eyes. Overall arrogant attitude that rolled off of him in waves.

"This is your rider?" she asked the dragon, dubious. "A thief?" The beast remained silent. She could almost sense it shrug in the corner of her mind. "Okay," Jinji said with a sigh, relenting. "Stay connected to me. Guide me toward him. We'll return soon."

The air dragon stayed with her as she climbed back onto the eagle and took off into the sky, headed toward the streets of Lothlian and the pickpocket whose destiny was drastically about to change.

12

RHEN

~ RONINHYTHE ~

"Where'd she go?" Rhen asked gruffly as soon as Leena landed beside him and Bran in the open fields outside the city of Roninhythe. The Great Road leading through the city wall teemed with activity—tradesmen, farmers delivering goods, beggars, and guards attempting to keep the peace. And too many fingers were already pointed in their direction. Too many faces gaped at the dragons. Shouts drifted over on the wind, shouts of fear and of awe. But he ignored them—those reactions were becoming all too familiar to him. As long as the guards on the wall didn't start volleying arrows in his direction, Rhen had bigger concerns on his mind.

Like where exactly Jinji had disappeared to.

But Leena slid off the water dragon and shrugged with a clear face, giving nothing away. "She said she would return soon."

"How did she even leave?" Rhen asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You never stopped flying, I would have felt it. And last I knew, Jinji couldn't grow wings." Then again, he thought, stranger things have happened.

Leena raised her brows and widened her eyes, a look of pure innocence. But the twinkle in her irises told a different story.

Rhen crossed his arms, frustrated. Behind him, Firestorm breathed out a low growl, blowing a cloud of dark smoke into the air.

Rider and dragon, disgruntled as one.

Jinji couldn't just run off without telling them what she was up to. He didn't care if she was all-powerful, that the world bent to her touch, that some immortal spirit was alive inside of her mind. None of that was enough to convince him of her safety, not when she was out of sight doing the gods knew what. Normally Rhen was the one acting rashly, running off into dangerous situations without a second thought. This role reversal was difficult to swallow.

Feeling as though steam was escaping from his ears, Rhen turned to Janu, hoping to find at least one ally. Jinji's brother was also scowling, eyes narrowed as they gazed up at the open sky, flicking across the clouds, searching for his sister.

"Janu," Rhen said, hoping to gain his attention.

But the oldworlder didn’t move, almost as though he didn’t recognize the sound of his own name. Or his mind was just somewhere else entirely.

"Janu?" Rhen tried again.

Nothing.

Concerned, he stepped forward, walking over and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Janu recoiled, glaring at Rhen with flared nostrils, fury filling his gaze.

Rhen stepped back, shocked.

Time paused. They examined one another, neither moving. Rhen had never seen Janu like this, so angry, so venomous. His personality seemed altered. Gone was the normally meek and somber man who spoke almost exclusively to his sister. This was someone else entirely.

"Janu? Are you all right?"

His only response was a smile that made Rhen's skin crawl. But before Rhen could decipher what it meant, a scream filled the air.

"Rhen!" Leena called. He turned to her, eager to look away from Janu and the grin he couldn't comprehend. But before his eyes landed on the princess, they found the source of the panic in her voice.

The mist was back.

Black fog oozed from the earth, as though the grass and dirt were smoking. Ebony coils reached overhead, slowly pulsing wider and wider, stretching until the whole field outside of Roninhythe was blanketed in darkness. Slowly, the mist shifted forward, closing in on the city.

On the main road, the people began to run, fleeing for safe haven behind the wall. The guards of Roninhythe moved quickly, their sky-blue vests running into position. Arrows flew, soaring uselessly into the vapors. The gate was sealed shut, abandoning whoever didn't make it inside to his own fate. Men tried to scale the rocks, women cried to let their children in to safety.

But Rhen knew the harsh truth.

Wall or not—nothing could save them. Not even him.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Let's go," Rhen shouted to the riders. But just as he finished speaking, something stirred in the back of his mind—a bond forming, a circle sealing shut. There was a new presence awakening deep in his heart, wild and carefree, laughing with the wind. A presence that seemed to complete him, to complete all of them.

A new rider.

The last rider.

"Do you feel him?" Leena asked with awe.

Bran looked up, smiling wide. "That must be where Lady Jinji went."

Already, Rhen sensed the dragon soaring closer. He was fast—faster than all of them. He would be here in no time.

Good. No time is all we have, he thought.

"Come on," Rhen said, mounting Firestorm. All three of them took off into the air, leaving Janu behind. Speaking through the bond, he added, "If we can just hold them until Jin and the air dragon arrive, we may be able to defeat them."

The others agreed.

But just as before, very little they did had any effect.

Rhen blasted flames into the fog, dispersing the black for a moment, but it always came back. Leena flooded the ground, but the cloud was undisturbed. Bran shook the earth, cracking the field apart and creating fissures beneath the misty shape, but it just floated over the destruction.

The darkness crept over the edge of the city. All those left outside of the closed gate disappeared into the ebony. Raven wisps drifted up, brushing against the guards at the top of the wall. A single touch was enough. One by one, sky-blue vests dropped out of sight as the guards became paralyzed by the ghostly caress. Anyone not touched ran, risking death as they jumped from the wall, retreating into the depths of the city in terror.

And through it all, the phantoms just kept coming. Slowly. Taking their time, feeding off the terror rising over Roninhythe.

Just as Rhen was losing hope, the air dragon arrived.

Rhen didn't see him.

But he felt his magic.

The air above the city shifted, swirling into a vortex of wind, stirring the phantoms into a spiral over the city, pulling the mist away from the people. The whirlwind tightened, narrowing into an ebony tornado. Flashes of translucent wings circled the cyclone, signs of a dragon made to blend into the sky. And then all as one, the tension of the storm broke, throwing the phantoms out and away, back toward the open field.

Rhen watched from the side, unsure what to do.

And then he saw Jinji, standing alone in the center of the field, waiting calmly as the mist blew toward her. The air to either side of her shimmered, rippling as her magic changed the very makeup of the world, weaving and bending the spirit to her will. Slowly, bodies filled the space around her. Hundreds of them, still, like dolls, lifeless.

The phantoms descended.

Then disappeared, sucked away, sucked inside.

The bodies around her stirred with life.

"Fight," she whispered to her riders. "Fight to kill."

And they did.

Rhen scorched the open field in a bed of flames, but unlike with Rayfort, he couldn't feel these souls die beneath his fire. He didn't drown in their agony. They were already dead. He was just sending them back to where they belonged. Firestorm was confident beneath him, showing no hesitation as he burned the walking corpses, shooting fire out in a massive inferno, so hot that even Rhen began to sweat in the blaze.

Leena worked as his perfect opposite—the frost to his flames. Shards of sharp ice pierced the phantoms. Floods of water gushed across the field, knocking the bodies over and then freezing them below the depths of the water.

The ground swallowed the dead and undead alike as Bran ripped the earth to shreds. Dirt tore apart as the field cracked into deep crevices, holes with no obvious end.

The wind dragon continued to send the mist toward them. Any ebony in the sky was blown away from Roninhythe and straight into the massacre the dragons were executing.

And at the center of them all was Jinji. The key to their strength. The knot that held them all together. Without pause, she wove new empty human shells for the phantoms to get sucked into.

Rhen almost couldn't believe his eyes. Everything clicked. The five of them were united at last, a thousand years in the making. They were born to work together, to be a team. Hope surged in his chest, filling his veins, bringing a warmth to his soul stronger than any fire.

The people of Roninhythe were protected. They were safe.

The phantoms were falling back, fading.

The mist shrank.

The dragons were winning.

And as suddenly as the battle started, it ended. The darkness disappeared in the blink of an eye, retreating to the shadow realm, running away in defeat. Rhen cheered. Firestorm roared into the sky. The sound of four victorious dragons and four victorious riders filled the air, triumphant.

And then Rhen let his heart carry him, swooping Firestorm low to the ground and jumping from his back before the dragon even had time to stop. He landed already running toward her and lifted Jinji off her feet, swinging her around as her laughter filled the air around him, a sweeter sound than any he had ever heard. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight, and Rhen slowed, pulling her close, enveloping her delicate frame in his sturdy arms. Their bodies shifted ever so slightly, searching for each other, until their lips were finally close enough to touch. He dug his fingers into the back of her ebony hair, shifting her chin up, kissing her with the passion exploding from his chest. And Jinji returned his touch wholeheartedly, melting against him.

A whistle from above broke them apart.

A very teasing whistle.

Rhen glanced up, meeting the impressed eyes of their newest rider, the air rider. He was dressed in rags with a smug smile gracing his lips. Raising his brows, he hollered again. Against Rhen's torso, Jinji began to shake with embarrassed giggles, sensing the eyes of the other riders on them.

But Rhen didn't care.

He went back for more, drunk on the taste of her lips, better than any ale in the kingdom. With that intoxication, it was easy to ignore the catcalls raining down from above. But Jinji pulled away, cheeks ruby.

"We did it," he whispered fiercely, finding her golden eyes, always marveling at how they sparkled with the light of the sun, a beacon calling him home.

She reached up, moving her palms over his broad chest, caressing his neck. Even the blush on her cheeks couldn't hide the joy radiating from her honey skin. "We did it."

They started to laugh together.

Jinji dropped her face into her hands, overwhelmed by her own reaction, and he hugged her close, chin resting on the top of her head. With a contented sigh, he met the eyes of the comrades around him. Leena, who watched them with an edge of longing. Bran, who looked a touch self-conscious, yet grinned widely beneath his bowed head. And the unnamed air rider, who barely glanced at them, and instead eyed his dragon with exalted wonder. Already, Rhen recognized some of himself in the rascal, no more than a year or two younger. The self-assured smirk. The bravado. The need for adventure. He would balance out the team nicely.

And then Rhen's eyes slipped to the last member of the group.

He froze.

Janu.

In a heartbeat, Rhen's entire demeanor shifted. Because when he looked at Janu he didn't see the lonely man standing before him now, eyes somewhat shaded with bewilderment. No. He saw that fiendish leer that graced his lips moments before the phantoms had descended. He saw the hate that had clouded his eyes, backed with a lifetime of meaning. He saw someone else. He saw…

But Rhen shook his head.

It wasn't possible.

No.

"Rhen?" Jinji asked, glancing up at him, sensing the way his muscles stiffened, no longer gentle beneath her touch.

But he stepped away from her. Backed away. Retreating as thoughts crashed over him, one by one, too many coincidences to ignore, too many questions all with the same answer.

How had a small boy of seven or eight faked his own death? How had he convinced his family and his friends that he had perished? Why? What possible motive could there be?

And how had he made his way to the Gates? How had he made it through the crashing waves and the crushing cliffs, to a space only Jinji's magic or the dragons could reach?

Why had he returned at the exact moment the first dragon had been awakened? What better time to distract Jinji from the fight? To pull her mind in two?

How had the shadow known they traveled to Brython? How had it beaten them there? And now again with Roninhythe?

Why had Jinji left them in secret to find the last rider? What had she been afraid of? Who?

"No," Rhen whispered.

Terror clenched his gut. Shock pulsed through him. Disbelief.

She wouldn't have lied about that. She wouldn't have let so many perish. A whole city of innocents. Almost two of them. Not when all along she'd had the answer. Not when she could have ended this days ago. Or at least let them work on a solution together.

"No," he said again, louder this time, as anger rippled across his limbs, clenching his fists tight. His head shook, pulsing back and forth. His body refused to believe what his mind knew to be true, his heart refused to believe it.

Janu was the shadow.

The shadow was Janu.

The enemy had been with them all along. The shadow's true body had been within reach all along.

"No!" he shouted, gripping his hair.

Jinji winced, stepping back as though slapped.

Her eyes widened with understanding.

The color drained from her face.

The life.

"Rhen," she murmured, barely more than air. "Please."

He met her stare dead on, unflinchingly demanding. "You knew?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Knew what?" Leena asked, stepping closer, watching them guardedly.

But Rhen was beyond answering. He closed in on Jinji as she cowered away from him, watching him with so much sorrow in her eyes that it pained his soul, but he couldn't stop. Not when the fate of the world was on the line. "You know what we must do."

Jinji shook her head. "He's my brother."

"He's the end of the world."

Jinji stood tall, strength mounting as she stepped between Rhen and Janu, blocking his path. "I won't let you, Rhen. I love you, but I won't let you. He's my family. You know what that means. You burned an entire army to the ground to save yours. An army of innocent people I had to heal."

"It's not the same!" he yelled. How could she be so blind? His family had been at war, victims of a rebellion. Her family was the war, was the literal embodiment of evil.

But Jinji stepped closer, just as challenging, just as demanding. "How is it different? You would have killed anyone who stood against them, no matter how many, no matter who. You would have died defending them."

Frustration mounted beneath his skin, frustration and fury. And it exploded in words he couldn't control, words he knew he would come to regret. But he couldn't stop himself from shouting them anyway, pointing at Janu in judgment. "He's not your family. He killed your family! I found you a hair from death, surrounded by the ashes of those you loved, of everyone you loved. He ripped your entire life away, your entire culture, your entire world. Everything you ever knew, he stole it!"

Jinji wobbled, falling to her knees as her strength gave out.

A broken woman.

"Not him," she whispered, eyes on the dirt, trying to convince herself of the truth. "They are not the same. Just as the voice in my head is not me. He is not Janu."

"He is," Rhen said softly, hating that he had to press the point. But he did. "You must see that."

Jinji hesitated.

Just for a moment. She closed her eyes. Rhen saw her pause, saw everything about her lock up, utterly lost, utterly confused. And though he knew she might never forgive him, he also knew he would never forgive himself if he didn't try.

So he jumped into action, racing past her, hands outstretched for Janu, reaching for his throat. Rhen was bigger, stronger. He could end this now. He could save so many people. This was the decision that had slowly been breaking Jinji, tearing her down the middle. He realized that now. And he could end her suffering. He could hope that eventually she might understand that he only did what he had to do.

Janu didn't even try to step away, didn't even try to defend himself.

He waited for the end.

He welcomed it.

"No!" Jinji shrieked.

A moment later, Rhen fell, jerked back by the ankles as he landed face first in the dirt, spitting blood. He tried to stand, to rush forward. Janu was only a few inches out of reach. But the pressure holding him back wouldn't break. He felt chains against his skin. And then shackles appeared around his wrists too, holding him down like a caged animal, matching the ones that already circled his feet. The restraints were anchored to the ground, unbreakable iron.

"I'm sorry," Jinji cried, moving next to her brother, looking down at Rhen utterly shattered, pulled into pieces. She knelt before him, afraid to touch the man she loved. A wall had come up between them. Invisible, but stronger than anything either of them had ever known. "I'm so sorry."

Rhen remained silent, lip curled, breathing heavily into the space separating their bodies. There wasn't a single word he could think to say. All that remained was the maelstrom of emotions coursing through him, changing from one instant to the next, uncertain and uncontrollable. The woman he loved with all of his heart was turning into a stranger before him.

Jinji closed the gap, unable to bear it any longer. She gripped his cheeks, forcing Rhen to meet her eyes. "We'll find another way. I promise. You have to believe me. You have to know there is no other choice, not for me. You have to understand."

Against his will, Rhen sank into her touch, letting the warmth of her fingers seep into his skin, knowing full well this could be the last time that ever happened. "What other way?"

Jinji bit her lip, brows crunching together. She couldn't admit what she knew in her heart. Rhen could feel the words waiting in the back of her throat, could hear them just as clearly as if she had said them herself.

She didn't know any other way.

She didn't have an answer.

"The world deserves better," he whispered.

Jinji dropped her hands to her side. Rhen's head hung low without the weight of her strength to support him. "What would you have me do?" Her voice cracked. "He's my brother. He's the only family I have left. Would you have me put the knife in his back myself?"

But this time, it was Rhen who didn't have the answer.

What if it were Whyllem? Could he murder his own brother to save the fate of the world? Could he stand by and let someone else do it?

No. Of course not.

But that wasn't the decision fate had placed in his hands.

The real question was could he lose her to save the world? Were the thousands of other souls in need of his help worth more than the love he had for one woman? Could he sacrifice his heart and his soul to help them?

Rhen didn't have an answer.

Not yet.

In the silence, an arm came around Rhen's shoulders, guarding him protectively, holding him close. He had no will to move away. No strength left.

"There is no other option," the princess said softly, umber eyes dark with understanding and focused only on Jinji.

Bran stepped to Rhen's other side, placing a hand on his back, knowing enough of the truth to choose a side. And the air rider closed the circle, unaware of what was going on, but sensing his place was with the riders. That bond was the only thing keeping Rhen together, the only shred of light he had to hold on to.

Jinji ran her eyes over them, pleading. She removed the shackles holding Rhen down, freeing his limbs and waiting for him to go to her. Hoping he would.

But Rhen didn't have the strength to move.

He barely had the strength to meet her eyes. And just as he found the courage to open his mouth, to tell her to stay, to tell her what he knew deep down she needed to hear, Jinji disappeared, taking Janu with her.

They vanished.

Gone.

And Rhen didn't know if she would ever return.

13

JINJI

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Jinji stood behind her illusion, watching all four of her riders as they sided against her, as they banished her. Hand outstretched, as still as a statue, her fingers were close enough to caress Rhen's cheek. The heat of his skin brushed against her, palpable. She recoiled from the warmth. It was too hot compared to her frozen heart.

And with the moment broken, she ran.

"Jin!"

The faint call barely made it to her ears. But it was too late. Jinji was already running. Already sprinting far away. Not even Rhen's voice could call her back.

"Jinji!" Janu shouted next. Unlike the riders, he was on her side of the illusion. Janu could see her. He could follow. And he did, feet pounding in the dirt chasing after her.

But still, Jinji pressed forward, trying to escape them all, to escape a destiny she knew deep down she could never outrun. Despite her shorter legs, Janu couldn't keep up. Desperation fueled her. Potent and powerful, making her legs move swifter than they ever had before. She kept racing, urgent, unable to remove the feel of Rhen's eyes on her back, unable to fight the sense that he was watching her run away even though she knew it was impossible. The world blurred as her eyes filled with water.

And then she tripped.

Jinji lunged forward, falling swiftly, tumbling head over foot, scraping her arms and her legs. The pain overpowered her. She couldn't fight it any longer. Cheek resting on the grass, limbs bent at uncomfortable angles, she came to a stop and didn't move. She couldn't even if she wanted to.

"Jinji," Janu said, dropping to her side.

But he too had little strength. So rather than pick her up, he met her on the ground, body matching hers as he curled into a fetal position, twins just like they had always been. Two halves of one whole, not complete without the other. But unlike the other times they used to lay like this, Janu didn't reach out his hand. He didn't touch her. He didn't comfort her. He watched her with hard, grief-stricken eyes.

She had to look away.

Jinji focused on the blades of grass in front of her eyes, watching as the tips bent over in the wind. No matter how far they leaned, as soon as the breeze died, they straightened back up, unaffected, recovering. The grass never fell so far that it couldn't stand up again. Splayed out, unable to shift a muscle, Jinji was envious of that resistance.

"Jinji," Janu repeated. But she couldn't look at him. He waited a moment longer. The feel of his eyes on her was painful, prickling her heart. "I want the truth. I deserve it." And then he swallowed. The gulp was like thunder in her ear, impossibly loud, making her chest pinch tight. "Why did your prince want to kill me?"

Against her will, her eyes flicked up, meeting his. Behind that question, she heard something else, an admission in her brother's voice. He already knew the answer. He'd been suspicious all along. He just needed her to confirm it, to make it real. Jinji whispered, barely able to get the words out, "Because of the shadow."

"The voice, the shadow," Janu murmured. "He is part of me? Connected to me? We are one person?"

"You are two souls that share one body. He is tied to you and you to him. You cannot live without each other."

You cannot die without each other either, she thought.

And Jinji knew the same phrase had just run through Janu's head. His eyes darkened like bark wet from the rain. He licked his lips, this time looking away from her. "Will killing me end this war?"

Jinji closed her eyes, sealing them as her heart pounded in her ears. "Janu."

"No, Jinji, tell me. Everything."

Coarse fingers gripped her hand, warm. Jinji opened her eyelids, watching his brown skin blend into hers, grasp fierce. The sight gave her just enough strength to sit up. Janu followed. They sat cross-legged, facing each other, holding hands.

Her time had run out.

And before she even realized what she was doing, Jinji was telling him the truth, the whole truth, brutal and unfair as it was. "The shadow in your head and the spirit in mine have been playing a game for thousands of years, and we are just the unlucky souls who inherited their battle. The voice in my head is the spirit dragon, guardian of the living world, of the elemental spirits, of the earth and everyone who lives in it. The voice in yours is the shadow dragon, the guardian of the dead. They are meant to live together in the ether, the world between the realms, but the spirit often escaped to this world, to live among the humans, leaving the shadow alone. And a thousand years ago, the shadow decided he'd had enough of being abandoned. He brought the phantoms to our world, an army of dead souls unnaturally summoned from his shadow realm, and threatened to destroy everything the spirit had created. To end the war, she made a promise to remain with him in the ether for all time, to never leave him alone again."

"That is the promise that was broken?" Janu asked, voice ringing with recognition. The shadow had told him a version of this tale before.

Jinji nodded, hands still firmly holding on to his, as though he would disappear if she let go for even an instant. "The spirit latched on to my soul at the moment of my birth, sneaking back into this world, and the shadow latched on to yours, sensing her betrayal. And everything that has happened since was his attempt to make the spirit agree to a new compromise. To make sure she doesn’t leave him again."

Janu swallowed. "The phantoms? All the deaths I've witnessed through his eyes?"

Jinji nodded. "All to hurt her. He was first trying to take the riders away, to make sure I could not wake them. But now, destruction is his main goal I believe. Chaos. The closer the world comes to falling apart, the more desperate the spirit in my head becomes."

"Can no new compromise be made?"

Jinji bit her lip, breathing deeply, before shaking her head. "The shadow will not make a deal with me, not yet." And she stopped there because Jinji couldn't yet admit that she was the one holding the deal up. The shadow was ready to talk, just not to her. But she refused to let the spirit control her, to determine her fate. The spirit had decided too much of her life already, she wouldn't decide how it ended. Jinji wouldn't let her. There were too many people she loved involved, too many lives she wasn't willing to gamble.

"So killing me is the only way to rid the shadow from the world," he murmured. A statement. Not a question.

All the air left her in one push.

"I'm not going to let that happen," she said sharply.

Janu released her, leaning back, but she held on, not letting him go. His eyes were vacant, and she knew in that instant that he had given up. After fighting for so long, he was ready for peace, for whatever came next. But Jinji wasn't. She never would be.

"Janu," she hissed, jerking on his arms, forcefully regaining his attention. "Dying is not the answer. It is only a temporary solution. The shadow would only come back. He would fuse his soul to another, and in a few years, when the baby had grown into a boy, he would do the same thing he did to you. He would control that poor soul, he would use him, and he would continue to call forth his phantoms, would continue his path of destruction. Nothing would change. I would be right back here, only more lost because the shadow's true body would be a mystery, and I wouldn't have my brother fighting by my side."

"But—"

"No!" She cut him off. "I will not lose you, not like that."

He wrenched free of her grip, standing. "Jinji, that is not your decision to make."

"It is," she said hardheartedly.

"You don't know what it is like to be me, to have him in your head all the time. My hands have killed hundreds of people. I've lived each murder. I'm haunted by them. And to know that my life will cause the death of a thousand others, I cannot live like that. Especially not now, not knowing the full truth. Knowing I have the power to end it. Don't ask me to."

Jinji remained seated, folding her hands in her lap, hating herself but unable to stop the words from passing over her lips. "I'm not asking, Janu. You know as well as I do that you are not strong enough to fight the shadow by yourself, and you cannot ask me to help you. You cannot ask me to murder you. I cannot live with that. I won't."

"Jinji," he whimpered, shoulders falling as he stumbled, unable to hold his own weight. But her heart was stone. It was the only way to keep it from breaking. It was the only way to keep herself from breaking.

"Janu," she murmured evenly.

They stared at each other, neither backing down, neither moving nor relenting. His brows pinched together. His lips pulled into a frown. And Jinji knew her face looked the same. She and her twin had always looked the same when they were being stubborn. Her mother had told her as much.

"Who are you?" he finally whispered.

A knot formed in the back of her throat. "Your sister."

"No," he shook his head, eyes watery and dark. "The sister I remember was not so unfeeling, so incredibly cold. She cried once when she found the body of a bird at the base of a tree. We had to bury it together, humming the song of the spirits. I held her while she wept. The twin I remember would never torture me like this."

"The girl you remember died with the rest of her family," Jinji said softly, unable to look up from the dirt beneath her feet. "The woman I am now would do anything not to be left alone again."

Janu watched her a moment longer. She felt his gaze but couldn't meet it. And then he slowly stepped away, crunching the grass beneath his feet as he backed up. When he turned his back to her, he spoke softly over his shoulder, voice fragile and too caring for his own good. "Look around you, Jinji. Who is left to hold on to?"

The words cut deeper than her brother could ever imagine. And with each step he took away, the knife hit her again, straight through her chest, until she collapsed back on the grass, staring up at the sky. The wound was imaginary, but still, Jinji felt exposed, as though her insides were bare and she was bleeding out, staining the earth around her.

Janu was right.

Who was left?

No one.

Not even Rhen. He'd made his choice. She saw the decision in his eyes, even if he wasn't certain of it yet. The second he jumped for Janu, his mind was made up. And she wasn't surprised. Not really. As soon as she found out Janu was the shadow, Jinji had known it was inevitable that she and Rhen would be on opposite sides. He was too good, too heroic. Even though he loved her, and she knew he did, Rhen would put the world first. Just as she hated him for it, she loved him for it too. He always said she was the strong one, but that wasn't true. He was. Jinji had known that all along.

Are you ready to give me control yet? the spirit whispered across her mind, tempting. And for a moment, Jinji really thought she would give in. What was she fighting for? What did she have left to fight for? No one. Nothing.

I can end your suffering. I can end everyone's suffering.

But the longer Jinji stared up at the clear-blue sky, searching for any sign, the more a strange sense of calm filtered over her. There were no clouds. No storms on the horizon. There was nothing. The air was blank. But not bleak.

It was blue.

Sunny.

Full of light.

Full of hope somehow.

Her chest swelled the longer she breathed the crisp, fresh air. Just like the sky, her heart was clear for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. The lies were gone. The hiding was over. And the more she thought about it, the lighter the burden on her shoulders became. The overwhelming pressure of the past few days lifted. All of her secrets had been found out.

Jinji had clarity.

Even if everyone had abandoned her, Jinji wouldn't give up on them. As long as she still had love in her heart, she would never be alone. As long as the people she loved were still alive, she would never be alone. And that was something worth fighting for.

Let me help, the voice cooed one last time.

But Jinji shook her head. "I don't need your help."

Everyone has left you. Everything you feared has come true. And still you have no better way of defeating my shadow-self. Let me speak with him. Let me make a truce.

"What deal are you prepared to make?" she asked.

Any deal I must to save my world.

Jinji shrugged, sitting up, brushing the grass from her hands. "I'm not prepared to let you make that deal. I have things I'm not willing to lose."

And what if I promise to ensure the riders stay alive? My shadow-self does not seek their death or destruction. I'm sure of it.

Jinji paused. "How can you be sure?"

He only murdered them last time to leave me on my own. But now, in this life, they mean nothing to me. Everything to you but nothing to me. If you give me control, killing them would be worthless because I would have no reaction to it, and any reaction you have, my shadow-self would be unable to see. That is not the sort of game he enjoys playing. This game we're in now, of torture and heartbreak, this is the kind he loves.

"And what of Janu?" Jinji asked.

I'm not sure. One way or another, you both must die to send my shadow-self and me back to the ether. That is the only way to sever the connection between our souls.

Jinji swallowed. The terms of her fate were changing. "We could go together?" she asked, chewing on her lip, thinking.

Yes, together. Forever.

Jinji closed her eyes, squeezing tight. Was she prepared to leave Rhen? Was she prepared for life to be over? Would she join her family in the shadow realm? Would they be waiting for her? Would they welcome her? Would it be an alternate life, the way things would have been if Jinji had just been a girl and Janu had just been a boy? Would she even miss Rhen, would she remember him? Or would their whole adventure become a strange dream once she was returned to the people who raised her?

For a mere instant, Jinji pictured it—death.

For a mere moment, her heart welcomed the idea.

And in that second, while her defenses were down, the spirit acted.

Jinji screamed, falling back as her body collapsed on itself, lifeless. Her head exploded with pain, a tremendous wave of pressure that knocked her over, that dislodged her mind. Invisible hands gripped her, pushing her to the side, trying to force her out and away, trying to lock her up.

No!

Jinji tried to shout, but her lips wouldn't move.

They weren't hers to command.

The spirit was everywhere, everything, blinding as she drowned Jinji in the strength of her magic. The voice was no longer just a voice, it was tangible, and it was taking control.

No. Jinji thought. No, I won't let you.

But the spirit was paying her no mind. She was settling into the body that was once Jinji's to command but would soon be hers. A wave of overwhelming joy sprinkled the air around Jinji as she was pushed farther back and farther away. Her fingers moved, but they were no longer hers. Arms that felt familiar and foreign stretched overhead, working sore muscles, bringing them back to life. The world was growing dense and gray. The color was seeping away. Her eyes were no longer hers to see through, and the grassy field began to fade. The clear-blue sky slowly winked out of existence.

You tricked me! Jinji shouted.

"No," the voice said. Only now, her voice was the one being projected out into the world. Her words were being spoken through Jinji's lips. "I finally made you see the truth. You let me have control. You might not want to believe it, but you want me to make the hard decisions for you. You finally realized you aren't strong enough to make them yourself."

And far away, Jinji felt something that sent a pit of dread into what she still considered her heart—the hilt of a knife. And her fingers were wrapped sturdily around it.

I won't let you kill him.

"Even if you wanted to, you couldn't stop me. Not now. But I'm not trying to kill him, not in the way you think. I'm going to kill us both. I'm going to end it."

And as soon as the spirit said those words, Jinji realized what her choice would be.

Rhen.

Not her family. Not to die with Janu. Not the afterlife and all the peace death might provide.

She wanted life.

She wanted Rhen.

She wasn't prepared to lose him.

Rhen!

She screamed his name. She yelled it with all of her might.

Rhen!

The spirit didn't stop walking. Didn't change her grip on the knife. Distantly, Jinji felt her lips curve into a smile. The spirit was undeterred. In fact, her soul seemed stronger the more desperately Jinji began to shout.

Rhen!

"He cannot hear you," the voice said.

But Jinji knew, she just knew, that somehow he would. Either through the spirit bond that connected all of the riders and all of the dragons to her, or maybe just through love. Somehow, some way he would hear her calling. He would know. And despite everything that had happened, he would come for her. He always would.

Rhen!

The spirit began to chuckle at Jinji's human naiveté, her human hope. But Jinji kept shouting through the void, trying to touch the spirit magic, trying to reach Rhen through that connection.

Rhen!

Her strength began to weaken. To wane.

The spirit pushed harder against her, cutting a sharp slice in Jinji's arm with the knife, trying to dislodge her the same way Jinji used to get rid of the voice—through pain. And just as her world turned almost to black, just as all awareness almost faded away, something stilled them both.

A word.

A voice.

Jin? Jin!

The spirit stopped walking.

Her strength faltered.

And it was just enough of a slip for Jinji to latch on to. She pushed with all of her strength against the spirit, stretching her soul back out to the tips of her toes, to the very ends of her fingernails, reclaiming the body that belonged to her.

Jin!

Rhen shouted again through the dragon bond, and this time his words were as hot as fire, slicing through her core, burning the spirit away and giving Jinji strength. She could almost feel the salty air on his tongue, could almost sense the wind rushing overhead as he rode on Firestorm's back, flying toward her. Their connection strengthened with each passing moment, shoving the spirit farther and farther to the side, giving Jinji more and more access to the magic that would refurbish her strength.

Jin!

Rhen!

And with those words, Jinji remembered something she couldn't believe she had almost forgotten. He would never abandon her. She would never leave him. They belonged to each other.

14

RHEN

~ RONINHYTHE ~

"So," the air rider said a few moments after Jinji disappeared. "Would anybody care to fill me in?"

That had been hours ago.

And yet, Rhen still couldn't get the last image of Jinji out of his mind. Her eyes plagued him. The hurt. The betrayal. The pleading. All because he couldn't open his mouth fast enough, all because he had been too late to tell her the only thing she needed to hear—that he loved her, that they would figure something out together, that of course he could never ask her to kill her own brother, that he forgave her. And now he was the one left desperately hoping she would forgive him too.

Janu was the shadow.

All four riders now knew that to be true. But not a single one of them could figure out what to do with the information.

"We need to kill the shadow," Leena murmured again. They had been talking in circles. Over and over again.

"You mean we need to kill Janu," Bran said softly, sighing.

Leena shrugged. "They are the same."

"Look, Princess," the air rider interjected, voice full of bravado. In the hours Rhen had known him, he'd learned three things about the man—his name was Jasper, he was an orphan, and he showed no problems with voicing his opinions. But Rhen also knew something else—he quite liked him. "I don't know how it is in Ourthuro, but here in Whylkin, we don't go around forcing our comrades to murder their own family members."

Leena narrowed her eyes. "This isn't a game. We have a duty to uphold. We are all new to being riders, but we should all know enough to understand that we were given this privilege in order to protect the world, to save it. From anyone who means it harm, no matter what."

"That's all well and good," Jasper retorted. "But have you thought about the repercussions? What if Jinji never forgives us? What if she abandons the world and us? We can't fight the phantoms without her. We need her on our side for when the shadow returns, or we'll just be worse off than we are now."

"She will forgive us in time. She will see there was no other way."

"And if she doesn't? I might be new to this whole dragon thing, but if today was any indication, I'm not so sure I want to face those ghosts without Jinji's magic there to help us."

"I'm not so sure I want to watch the world fall apart, watch hundreds die, watch the few loved ones I have left perish, knowing I didn't do everything in my power to stop it," Leena replied, calm demeanor rapidly deteriorating.

"What exactly is it that you're going to do? Try to force the most powerful person on earth to murder someone? What are you going to do, launch icicles at her until she gives in?" Jasper mocked, tone bubbling over with disbelief. He snorted. "Good luck."

"I…" Leena trailed off, shutting her mouth and gritting her teeth. Rhen could just read the frustration in the princess's eyes—it mirrored his own. But Jasper wasn't what had him frustrated—it was the fact that the points they both made were true, no matter how opposite.

"I have a little sister," Bran murmured, chest concave as he gazed down at his feet. "I would kill anyone who tried to hurt her."

Leena released a sigh, falling back. "I have a little brother who means the world to me. But that is not the point. Your sister, Bran?" She paused, voice growing distant, passionate, but ominous as well. "What if the phantoms turn on Fayfall next? Would you let them destroy your home and your family all the while knowing you could stop it? Would you defend your sister like you just said you would? Or you, Rhen? What if the shadow turns his eye to Rayfort? Would you rather let Jinji's brother live or save your family and your kingdom from destruction?"

He couldn't help but notice that her hand had come to rest on her stomach, cradling it protectively. Her fingers caressed the fabric, gently, lovingly—maternally. Rhen widened his gaze, searching the princess's face. But her eyes were focused somewhere else, not on him, not on the others. They were glassy and vacant. "Think of all the innocent children, whose futures will be stripped away before they even get the chance to live…" She trailed off, blinking. Her gaze refocused, meeting each one of their eyes, hard and unrelenting. "Our fate is not to make the impossible choice between duty and family. Our fate is to help someone we all care about understand that her impossible choice only has one possible answer."

They all paused, letting the princess's words sink in.

Rhen had thought much the same. But he didn't consider it their fate—he considered it his and his alone. Of all the riders, Jinji loved him most, listened to him most, depended on him most. And so of all the riders, he was the only one who could possibly get through to her, could make her see what had to be done no matter how horrifying it was.

If he could just rewind time.

If he could undo his failure.

If he could have yelled her name a little bit faster, reached out his hand a little bit quicker. If he could have gotten to her in time, maybe things would be different. Maybe she wouldn't have disappeared. Maybe her eyes wouldn't have looked quite so abandoned. Maybe he wouldn't feel quite so lost.

But that was just a dream.

Even if Jinji had stayed, Rhen would be faced with the same choice. Choose the woman he loved and watch the world perish. Or choose the world, choose betrayal, and watch her love turn to loathing.

He had made a promise to himself after burning the rebellion against Whylkin to the ground, after saving the city of Rayfort from certain destruction and using Firestorm to murder so many innocents—never again. He had told himself that even love wasn't strong enough to justify the killing of innocents. But at the time, he had been thinking only of his family. Of Whyllem. Of the baby. Of his mother. Human wars were not his to choose sides in anymore. He had to protect everyone, every man and woman, no matter what kingdom they were loyal to.

But this was different.

This was Jinji.

And the possibility of losing her had never once crossed his mind.

Loving her was as certain as breathing.

He wasn't sure he could live without it.

Rhen!

He looked up, glancing around, but no one was looking at him. All four riders were deep in their own thoughts, not paying attention to the world or anyone around them. Had he imagined it? The word was faint and far away, perhaps drummed up by his own feeble hope.

Rhen!

The word was far off again, barely audible. But a moment later, panic surged over his limbs, suffocating in its intensity. All of his muscles tensed as the foreign sensation rolled over him. His heart raced. He stood, scanning the empty fields surrounding them.

Rhen!

He recognized her voice. He always would, no matter how distant the sound.

And he recognized the terror and desperation in her call.

"Jin?" he asked. But there was no response. Where was she?

Leena glanced at him, brows knotted, and stood. "I feel it too," she murmured, rolling her shoulders as though uncomfortable. Bran and Jasper eased to their feet, eyes focused on the horizon.

Rhen!

Louder this time.

"Jin!" he shouted. He didn't wait for a response. Already Firestorm was soaring toward him, a ball of flames growing larger by the second, and Rhen dove onto his back without hesitation. "Find her," was all he said. But the dragon needed no instruction. He flew with purpose, with a destination already in mind.

Jin!

Rhen shouted through the connection, feeling her presence even more now that he was sitting on Firestorm's back, racing through the air, as close to the spirits as he could possibly get.

Jin! I'm coming! Hold on!

And he kept sending his voice through the dragon's bond, through the connection that tied all of the riders and all of the dragons to their core, to the spirit magic and to her. Leena and the others shouted too, trying their best to lend Jinji strength. But there was only one word coming through her end of the bond. His name. Over and over and over again.

"Faster," he muttered into the blazing scales of Firestorm's back. "Faster."

But Rhen knew the dragon was moving as fast as he possibly could. Jasper shot ahead, as quick as the wind. Leena raced by Rhen's side. Their eyes met through fire and ice, fear and worry bright in both of their gazes. The same thought was certainly on both of their minds—the shadow, Janu, and what he could have possibly done. Or more specifically, what they in their inaction had allowed him to do.

But when the riders found Jinji, she was alone.

Jasper landed first. He was already kneeling over her by the time Rhen jumped from Firestorm's back, racing to place his ear to her chest, to hear her heartbeat. It did. But the rest of her was impossibly still. Only her eyes, hidden behind closed lids, ticked back and forth, showing a sign of life.

"Jin," Rhen whispered, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Jin," he murmured again, cupping her cold hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her gently, hoping the warmth from his touch would wake her.

"Is she alive?" Leena asked.

Rhen nodded, not looking away.

"What happened?" Jasper questioned, standing and backing away, taking a spot by Leena's side, giving Rhen and Jinji space. Bran landed with a thud behind them, rattling the earth but saying nothing as he took the spot by Leena's other side, watching with concern, eyes full of tenderness.

Rhen, Jinji called out to him again, but this time it was calmer, as though she knew that he was there, that he was with her.

And then her eyes fluttered.

Her fingers twitched.

A smile spread across her face, as bright as the sun.

"Rhen." Her arms came around him, holding him close as she shook with relief. "You came."

He ran his fingers through her short ebony hairs, kissing her forehead. "Of course I came."

And then she shifted, moving so she looked over his shoulder. "You all came."

"Are you all right?" Leena asked, tone deep and caring. And in her voice, Rhen recognized a glimmer of love. Despite her harsh words from before—words Rhen knew came from a place of duty and honor—the princess cared for Jinji. She didn't want to see her harmed. She didn't want to be the one who had to harm her.

Jinji sat back, taking a deep breath as she met Rhen's eyes, looking at him as though he were the most important thing in the world. As though he were the world.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked. Her attention was focused on him and him alone.

Rhen had no answer but to repeat the question back. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I'm sorry for lying," she blurted, biting her lip and curling her legs into her chest.

"I'm sorry for not listening," he said, not letting her go.

"I'm sorry for restraining you." Jinji squeezed her eyes shut, cringing.

"I'm sorry for making you."

"I'm sorry for not being strong enough."

"I'm sorry for asking you to be."

"I'm—"

But Rhen interrupted by placing his finger over her lips, shaking his head. There would be so many more apologies in the future—he knew there would be. Because he was sorry for asking her to be strong enough to kill the shadow, he hated that he had to, but that wouldn't stop him from asking it again and again until she found the strength. Begging forgiveness would soon become his fate, apologies would become his future, he wouldn't be able to escape them. But he could delay them for a little while.

"What happened?" he asked instead. "Was it…?" But he couldn't finish. Her eyes darkened just a shade. She knew what he was going to ask. Was it Janu?

Jinji stood, stretching her arms high above her. And then she straightened her shoulders, face returning to its normal focused expression. "No, it wasn't the shadow. Not this time." The softness was gone from her voice, replaced with determination. "I lost myself for a moment. It won't happen again."

Rhen couldn't fight the feeling that she wasn't addressing them—that she was speaking to someone else. Something else. Before Rhen could open his mouth to question her, Jinji said something that stilled them.

"My brother wishes to die."

For a moment, Rhen was afraid to breathe. They all were—worried that even the slightest hint of an exhale might stop her from continuing.

But that was it. Jinji kept her eyes glued to the ground, repeating in a softer, sadder voice, "My brother wishes to die."

And none of them knew what to say next.

Rhen glanced up, meeting Leena's eyes. Then Jasper's. Then Bran's. After hours of trying to convince themselves that killing Janu was the only way, not a single one of the riders could find his or her voice to speak. No one urged Jinji to give into her brother's wishes. No one reminded her that it was the only way to save the world. No one told her that it was the right thing to do.

Rhen tried.

But every time the words came to his tongue, he swallowed them back down.

What could he possibly say?

Jinji filled the silence, staring at the grass crunched below her feet, watching as it shifted in the wind. "His life has been torture." She shook her head, clenching her fists. "The shadow controls his body. Janu disappears for days at a time, never knowing when or where he will wake. And even when he is in his own body, aware of the world, he is tormented with questions—where has the shadow gone now? Whom will he kill? What horrific visions will fill my hours when he returns? That's not life. That's not living."

She sighed, gripping her head in her hands, closing her eyes, speaking more for herself. "He asked me to help him. To help end it. I don’t want him to suffer. I don't want him to live in pain. But—" Her voice cracked, cutting her off. She swallowed, trembling. "But how can I do this? I can't."

Rhen took a deep breath, focusing on the muscles clenched at Jinji's neck, focusing on how rigid and pained her body looked, focusing on how much this decision was ripping her apart. And then he murmured, "Let me do it for you."

She opened her eyes. The golden flecks were gone, snuffed out. "I can't."

"Let me take this burden from you," he said, voice stronger this time. "Let me make the decision for you."

Jinji shook her head sadly. "Whether it is your hands or mine doesn't matter. The choice will always rest on my shoulders."

"Jinji," Leena said, stepping forward.

But Jinji held up her hand. "No."

Rhen shifted his feet, unsure which side he should take. But without consciously deciding, he moved toward Jinji, to comfort her, to support her.

"I need more time," she whispered. "I can try to talk to the shadow again. He might reason with me, he might compromise. I can still find another way. We haven't run out of options yet. I love Janu. I can't let him go, not until I know for certain."

Rhen looked at Leena. They spoke without words, her mysterious umber eyes no longer so mysterious for once. For now, they would give Jinji her time. They would give her what she needed. No one wanted to lose her trust, her companionship. Rhen didn't want to lose her love. But there was something else shared in that momentary glance. An agreement. Rhen and Leena both knew there would be no other way. They would give Jinji time, whatever time they could, but if the phantoms returned, if another city was slated for desolation, that time would run out.

"If there is nothing else that can be done," Jinji continued, unaware of the glance Rhen and Leena shared, "I will find the strength somehow. I promise."

But Rhen heard the weakness in those words even if Jinji could not.

He knew the truth. And he didn't blame her for it. If he were in her position, his choice would be the same. Anyone's would be. She would never find that strength.

So Rhen would have to find it for her.

All he could do was pray that someday she would understand.

"Can I ask a somewhat obvious question?" Jasper drawled, interrupting Rhen's thoughts. He turned to the air rider. The boy had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged. His brows were raised high as he glanced around the group. "We're going on and on about this shadow, deciding his fate, but does anyone know where he is?"

Jinji gasped, spinning on her heels.

"Janu?" she called. But there was no one in sight. She turned back to the group, eyes wide with fear. "He left me. He walked away. I don't, I don't know where he went."

"We have to find him," Rhen said, choosing his words carefully, keeping his voice even. Jinji's tone was full of concern. Clearly, she worried for her brother's life, but Rhen had other worries—keeping his enemy close, just in case.

Leena felt the same. But the princess was not so careful with her words. The harshness of Ourthuri culture seeped in, whether she realized it or not. "We can't let him get away."

Jinji glared at the princess. But Rhen took her hand, leading her toward Firestorm. "Can you sense him anywhere?" Rhen asked her.

Jinji shook her head.

"Can you?" he muttered to Firestorm, running his fingers through the small flames slipping out from between the black scales as the dragon moved his neck, dipping lower to let them on. But Firestorm grunted dishearteningly, letting Rhen know he could not.

They took off slowly, searching the ground. The city of Roninhythe was barely visible on the horizon, far away on the left side of Rhen's sight. Ahead, a sliver of blue stretched across his entire field of vision, starting at the city and spreading all the way to his right. And that's when he remembered something that made his heart stop—in fear or elation, he wasn't sure. When Jinji had run from him after the battle, she had run toward something she didn't even realize was there.

A ravine.

But maybe Janu did. Or maybe it was just fate acting again.

Rhen shifted Firestorm, surging forward, blasting off like a bolt of lightning streaking across the sky.

"Do you see something?" Jinji shouted over the crackle of the fire.

Rhen shook his head. "Maybe. I'm not sure."

But he was. Deep in the pit of his stomach he was.

Cal and he used to ride to the ravine as boys. Cal, of course, had been terrified of the place, leaving Rhen to climb down the rock wall by himself while his friend watched from above commenting the entire time about how they shouldn't be doing this.

The memory brought an image of the ravine sharply back to his mind. It was so unnatural, so wrong. The land was utterly flat for miles, but suddenly it dropped out into a crevice no wider than two men. It was a crack in the land, a sudden fissure, as though the world was breaking apart, but it only stretched on for a hundred yards. There used to be so many stories about how it got there—that a giant died ages ago, and the ground broke apart under the weight of his fall; that a witch cursed the land and used it for sacrifices; that the gods had made the earth shake in their anger and split it apart; that it used to be a secret entrance to the world of the dead. Rhen realized now that the earth dragon likely created the ravine during a long ago battle.

The landscape grew more familiar as they flew closer.

Right where he expected it, the ground split open.

Jinji cried out behind him.

They both saw the body at the same time. Crushed. Arms and legs splayed out at unnatural angles. Immobile.

Rhen gripped the scales beneath his fingers. Firestorm waited for the next command. But he didn't know what to say. Rhen was torn. Dive down in rescue? Or breathe fire and end everything right now?

Rhen saw the flames in his mind, saw Janu's body burned to ash, saw the shadow gone from the world, saw peace restored. He could do it. Here. In this very moment.

Jinji's arms loosened around his waist. "Rhen?"

He hesitated. She stiffened behind him.

Then she was gone.

15

JINJI

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Jinji didn't have to see Rhen's eyes to read his thoughts. The coil of his muscles, the way his biceps tensed beneath her hands, the way his back straightened. He was stuck. He was torn, hanging over a line he wasn't sure he was ready to cross. And she knew exactly what that line was.

He wouldn't cross it.

Not today.

Before Rhen could answer, before he could command Firestorm to do anything, Jinji jumped from the dragon's back. The air cocooned her, carried her. She fell gracefully and slowly, coming to an easy landing against the bottom of the ravine, right beside Janu's utterly motionless body.

And then she looked up.

Rhen watched, lips drawn thin.

"Time," she said, carrying the word toward him with her magic, making sure he heard. And then she did the only thing she could think of to ensure Janu's safety—she sealed the hole above her head, creating a ceiling of dirt and rock to shut out the world and shroud the two of them in darkness. But there was another purpose to using her magic and keeping the two of them apart from the rest of the world, one she hated to admit. If the shadow currently had control of Janu's body, Jinji wanted to speak with him privately, somewhere the riders couldn't hear.

Around her, a hundred candles appeared, filling the cave with soft yellow light. Jinji took a deep breath then looked down, unsure whom she would find.

"Janu?" she asked.

Leaning down, she pressed her head to his broken chest. A heart still beat there, slowly, softly, but alive. Jinji put her palm to that spot and gasped when the spirits connected her to his body.

Pain.

So much pain.

Every bone in his body was broken. Every muscle was stretched beyond its limits. Rocks cut deep into his back, bleeding out. Gashes cut across his arms and legs, slashed open during his fall. There were so many pieces that needed to be fixed, so much to be healed that she didn't even know where to start.

"Oh, Janu," she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the water threatening to flood out. Her heart broke for him in too many ways to count.

He coughed. It turned to a groan of pain then a gurgle as blood filled the space behind his lips, clogging his throat.

Her eyes shot open. Her palm cupped his face, sending him her strength.

"Jinji," he wheezed. "Please."

An invisible fist grabbed hold of her chest, crushing it, because she knew—Jinji heard the truth in his voice. That was not the plea of a man who wished to be saved, who wished for life. No. It was a man begging for mercy from someone he loved, begging for relief.

Jinji paused with her hand on his chest.

Could she grant her brother his dying wish? Could she make the pain go away?

She bit her lip, mind whirling back to her childhood. There had been a time when Janu had meant the world to her. He was more than her brother. He was her best friend. Her everything. And as fast as the snap of her fingers, he had been taken away. For a long time, Jinji didn’t think she would survive. She didn't think she could without him. But she did. And then her whole life was stripped away, her family and everything she had ever known. And again, Jinji wasn't sure how she would survive. But she did. It was in her nature to persevere. She'd done it twice before. Could she do it again? For Janu?

Tears dripped down her face. A solemn rain.

Jinji fell over her twin, landing softly on his chest.

Janu didn't even shift below her weight. He was no longer aware of the pain.

She hugged him close, wrapping her brother in her arms, holding him for just one more moment of silent goodbye. And then she let awareness drop to the side. She searched for his soul. She searched for his freedom. But before Jinji found the knot tethering Janu to the spirit world, a voice interrupted.

"He doesn't have to die."

She shot up. "What?"

The shadow coughed, wincing as his broken bones shook. "Heal us. Your brother doesn't have to die, even if that is what my spirit-self has told you."

"You're lying."

"Will you take that chance?" the shadow asked, nonchalant despite the pain.

Jinji didn't have to answer out loud.

They both knew what she would do.

A few minutes later, the shadow sat up, stretching his newly healed arms above his head, working the discomfort from his body. Jinji wove away the blood staining the rocks around them. It was Janu's, and she couldn't bear to see it. Especially not now, knowing she had defied his wishes again. But what other option did she have? None.

The shadow eased back against the opposite wall, watching her through the candlelight. And then he grinned. "I wasn't sure what you would do for a moment there."

"Neither was I," she whispered.

"Your brother thought he was defying me, that he had managed to beat me. But I'll let you in on a little secret—I let him make the jump."

Jinji gulped. The shadow had just confirmed her suspicions. Janu had done this to himself on purpose. He had been hoping she wouldn't find him.

"But don't feel too guilty for saving us," the shadow continued conversationally, as though they were friends. "We were never in any danger of dying. If you hadn't come, I would have brought someone else here to save us. I would have held on for however long it took. The people of Roninhythe would have called it a miracle sent from the gods when your brother survived his injuries. But it was worth the risk. I was curious how much the fire-user had swayed your mind. I wanted to see how close they were to turning you against me."

"I've always been against you," Jinji muttered.

"And therein lies your problem. We should be on the same side, you and I. And I thought a little more time with my spirit-self might prove that to you."

"Prove that I should align myself with a murderer?" Jinji growled.

The shadow shrugged, waving his hand in the air absently as though swatting her question away. "Murderer. You use this term so darkly, as though death is some horrific evil. How would you know? Have you seen it? Have you experienced it?"

Jinji licked her lips before softly admitting, "No."

"My entire existence has been surrounded by death. It's not so bad as you might think. I can see why you don't understand that. Humans are so afraid of dying, are so afraid of me. But it's not death that terrifies them. It's love that makes dying so frightful, the thought of losing it, of having it taken from you. But for me, the cycle has a certain amount of beauty. I grant life. I take life. The circle never ends. Souls live and die a hundred times without realizing it. So when I take someone's life, when I murder them as you say, I don't see what they leave behind, I see what I will give to them in the future."

"Well, I only have this life," Jinji said, not swayed by his words. "And in this life, when you kill someone, I don't see the life they might later lead a hundred years from now. I see their mother crying, their father weeping. I see a future stripped away unfairly. I see so much loss it hurts my soul to witness it."

The shadow nodded, crossing his arms, relaxed. "That is why my spirit-self loves this world so much. The emotions are so intoxicating, even I feel the rush being surrounded by humans brings. It makes it easier for her to forget who she is. When she runs here, she is running from herself, from her true nature, not from me."

"What nature is that?" Jinji asked, leaning forward. For some reason, her stomach was in knots. For some reason, she felt the need to defend the voice inside her head, to distance them both from the shadow.

He narrowed his eyes, smirking. "You know, whether you will admit it or not."

"I don't," Jinji challenged.

He raised his brows, releasing the tension in his face. "She's done a better job tricking you than I gave her credit for."

Jinji swallowed her retort back down.

She didn’t want to play the shadow's games any longer.

"You said Janu doesn't have to die? What can I do? How can I save him?"

The shadow shifted positions, placing his arms behind his head and lying back, staring at the shadows dancing between the halos of candlelight. He flicked his eyes toward her, and for a moment, Jinji thought she saw pity deep in his expression. "Can you not see the irony in the situation?"

Her whole body stiffened, straightening, growing alert. "No," she said cautiously.

He smiled sadly, and for a moment, Jinji saw her brother in that sympathetic face—not the shadow. But she blinked the affection away, hardening her heart.

"We are the same, you and I, as much as you don't want to see it. Both of us are trying desperately to hold on to someone who is trying desperately to leave us." Jinji remained silent. She had nothing to say. And the shadow just took that as a sign to keep speaking. "You love your brother so much that you are willing to risk the fate of the entire world to keep him by your side just a little while longer. And at the same time, he jumped to his death trying to escape you. I love my spirit-self as much as either of us is truly capable of feeling love. And I am doing everything in my power to keep her by my side while she resists at every turn. Surely you can understand my motivations, at least a little bit."

Jinji's fingers began to tremble.

Because she did understand, and it terrified her.

Was she becoming the shadow? Was she just as guilty as he was? Just as evil as he was? Were they really one and the same?

She shook her head.

No. She didn’t want to believe it. She was only becoming who he was forcing her to be. This wasn't the life she chose for herself. Jinji was reacting to her circumstances. The shadow was proactive in his destruction.

She bit her lip.

Something about the explanation tasted sour on her tongue. But Jinji pushed the nausea aside. She had no other choice.

"How can I keep Janu alive?" she asked again, voice firm, demanding an answer.

"Eventually, my spirit-self and I will come to a compromise," he began. "She—"

Jinji interjected, "That's not what I asked."

"Listen," he hissed fiercely, turning to her with a flash of fury. Her pulse raced with a bolt of fear. Jinji blinked, breathing, trying to calm back down. The shadow shook his head, dispelling the anger. "Listen," he repeated more calmly. But Jinji wouldn't forget that flash of his true nature. "Eventually, my spirit-self and I will come to a compromise. She will not risk the complete destruction of her realm. Already she is caving to my demands. But I'm not as naïve as I once was. I know her. I know the parts of her that even she refuses to see. And I know she will eventually try to betray me. It's in her nature. And if she betrays me, she betrays the world and everyone you love."

"How will that keep Janu alive?" Jinji asked into the silence.

The shadow narrowed his eyes, as though trying to see through her. "When the time comes, I will make you an offer. You will help me, and in return, I will grant your brother life. A deal. Simple."

"What offer?" she asked, already knowing she would do it, whatever it was.

He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her. "My spirit-self is here. She's listening. I know she is. When the time comes, I promise it will be a deal you will be ready and willing to make. It will be the compromise you've been waiting for."

Jinji toughened her gaze, clenching her palms together in her lap. "What makes you think I will trust you to keep your promises?"

The shadow shrugged. "What possible reason do I have to lie? I deal in truths. It is my spirit-self that dabbles in tricks and secrets. After all, death is the absolute truth. It's life that's filled with lies."

Jinji's mind drifted back to earlier that day—to the spirit trying to take control of her body, tricking her to gain the upper hand. But could Jinji truly blame the spirit for that? She was trying to do what Jinji couldn't. To end the shadow, to end the battle, to make peace. Her mind drifted to the other things the spirit had shown her—the visions of the past, the secrets of her powers. Had she been holding back?

"The spirit has been honest with me," Jinji murmured, voice weak, not really sure she believed it.

The shadow smiled. "Has she?" He laughed softly. "How long did it take her to tell you about the dragons? How long before she revealed the extent of your power?"

Jinji paused. Weeks. It had taken the spirit weeks—from the long days in Rayfort to the time on the White Stone Sea. It wasn't until the attack in the Straits, until the shadow made his presence known at the Gates that the spirit revealed the whole truth.

"I take it from your silence that it was not immediate."

"I pushed her away," Jinji retorted. "I wouldn't listen, not at first."

"She could have made you listen," he answered. "I have made Janu listen many times. She waited because she didn’t want you to have all of her power, she didn't want you to know how strong you could be. She was hoping to break you, to gain control, to keep you weak long enough to make herself strong. But nothing worked. You are full of too much conviction. So eventually, she gave in, she showed you the truth, but only when she realized she had to. Only when she realized my threats were no longer empty."

He's lying, the voice suddenly accused.

And Jinji realized the shadow had guessed correctly—the spirit had been listening, quietly, without making her presence known.

Don't believe him, the voice spoke louder.

"She's here, isn't she?" the shadow said, tone filled with delight. "Is she calling me a liar?"

Jinji didn't know what to say.

Her mind was stilled by utter confusion.

"Ask her if we've spoken yet. If we've made a deal," the shadow drawled, grinning.

Jinji chewed her cheek for a moment, unsure. But she wanted answers. From the both of them. Speaking to the voice inside her head, Jinji questioned, "Have you and the shadow made a deal?"

No.

But the word sounded strained. The spirit didn’t expand her explanation.

"She said no," Jinji told the shadow, glancing at him for confirmation.

But he didn't say anything. His smile only deepened, making Jinji's stomach drop. Her nerves tied themselves in knots. Had the shadow and the spirit spoken? When? The spirit had never gained control of her body—aside from those few minutes earlier in the day, the spirit had always been trapped in the back of her mind. Jinji would know if her body had been possessed, wouldn't she?

Or would she?

Don't let him win. Don't let him fool you, the spirit whispered, tone kind and caring. That voice had become as familiar to Jinji as her own.

The spirit was on Jinji's side, wasn't she?

Was she?

"If she is so manipulative, why do you want to spend eternity with her?" Jinji asked instead, shifting the focus from the doubts starting to fill her mind. The spirit was right—no matter what, she couldn't let the shadow see he was influencing her. Not until she made up her mind, one way or the other.

The shadow shrugged. "She is all I have. And whether she wants to admit it or not, I'm all she has. We belong together."

The spirit, Jinji noticed, was silent.

"What if she belongs here, with us, in the spirit world?" Jinji asked.

The shadow snorted, rolling his eyes. "My spirit-self would like to believe that's true. She has tried to make that true for centuries. But then why does she come here and spend a lifetime pretending to be something that she's not? You have not seen all of her past lives, but I have. And not in a single one has she told her riders, the people who are supposed to love her most in the world, who she truly is. In this life, with you in control, the riders know more of her nature than they ever have before." The shadow stood, pacing, frustration mounting. "In the spirit world, all she has are lies. She can't even appear here in her true form! But in the ether, we have everything we'll ever need. Endless power. Endless beauty. Endless strength. And together, endless companionship. There are no lies. What else does she want?"

Jinji waited for the voice to say something.

To give the shadow any sort of response.

But nothing came.

"I don't know," Jinji whispered.

The shadow stopped pacing and turned to her. "Think about what I said. You can have your brother. I can have my spirit-self. We can both get everything we want. When the time comes, you'll know. And I will need a final decision."

And then a tremor coursed through him.

The shadow stumbled on uneasy feet.

When he opened his eyes, he was Janu. Her brother took a moment, blinking, glancing at his surroundings. He stretched his fingers out then clenched them into a fist. Momentary strength giving out, Janu dropped to the ground, falling on his knees and bowing his head against his chest.

"I tried," he whimpered. "I failed."

"You didn't fail," Jinji murmured, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him. Janu softened beneath her touch, letting his sister cradle him, protect him. "Janu?"

He leaned back, looking up at her, brows pushed tightly together.

As she looked down at her brother, Jinji couldn't stop her lips from spreading apart in a wide smile. Joy found its way to her heart, a heart that had been cold for too long. "I think I found a way to save you. To save us all."

He shook his head, unable to understand. "How?"

"I've made a deal with him."

"Jinji!" Janu gasped, taking her hands, squeezing them tight. "Don't trust him. Don't believe him."

She removed Janu's hands and eased back. "I don't," she said, completely honest. "I don't trust him, but I do trust this. We have a mutual understanding, people we are both unwilling to lose."

"Jinji…" He trailed off, voice growing soft as he wilted, gazing at her with concern evident in his deep brown eyes.

"Shh," she hushed. "I don't want to talk about it any longer. Tell me something else. Tell me about your life. Something good that I missed."

But Janu continued watching her with a tense expression, not ready to leave the conversation behind. When he opened his mouth to speak, Jinji already knew what he was going to say and already knew that she wasn't going to like it. She'd had enough talk of deep, dark things with her brother. It was time for something light, something fun. So she reached out, pressing her finger to his lips to silence him.

"Please, Janu. The world is safe for the moment. I have so many stories I want to tell you. I know you must have so many things to tell me. Can't we have one night to just be us, to just be two siblings who love each other, who missed each other desperately?"

He paused, chewing on his lip for a moment, a habit they shared. And then a happy grin spread over his broad, tanned cheeks. "One night."

Jinji's chest filled with warmth as she settled into her seat, weaving a few trays of food into the space between them. They spent the rest of the night sharing stories. Jinji told Janu of her time on the ship, of the crow's nest, and the battle on the open water. He told her about learning to cook, to carve sculptures into wood, to read. She regaled him with her tale of sneaking into Da'astiku and meeting Leena for the first time, of her and Rhen's epic escape. He told her of the garden he tended at the top of the Gates, of the many sunsets that had taken his breath away, of the adventures he read about in the pages of his books. They fell asleep midconversation, nodding off at the same time, unable to hold out any longer.

When Jinji woke the next morning, her head pounded.

Her eyes were bleary with exhaustion.

Her throat was sore and scratchy.

And she told herself that it was the long night spent with Janu, the hours talking. She gazed around the cave, searching for clues, for any differences in her surroundings. But candles still spotted the floor. The space was still dark and holed away from the rest of the world. Not even a pebble seemed out of place. And she and Janu were in the exact same spots where they had fallen asleep.

"Breakfast?" Janu asked, voice sluggish.

Jinji nodded, weaving plates of food at their feet.

Janu grinned, rubbing his eyes, happy for once. "I think I can get used to your magic. At first, it was so strange to see you so different than I remembered. But it's growing on me."

Jinji shoved him, digging into her food.

But despite the jovial mood, she couldn't dislodge the anxious feeling tugging at the back of her mind. The sense that she had forgotten something important. That something else had happened in the night—something she couldn't quite remember.

16

RHEN

~ RONINHYTHE ~

As Rhen watched the sun set, he couldn't help but realize it had been more than two full days since he had seen Jinji, more than two full days since she had locked herself in that hole in the ground with Janu.

Time.

The only explanation she had given him. And she'd meant it. But time felt like distance to him—the longer they were apart, the farther and farther away she started to feel. Especially when all he really wanted to do was hold her in his arms and forget the world for a little while.

Instead, he found himself curled into Firestorm's side as the dragon slumbered, blowing tiny flames from his nostrils as he snored. It was slightly scary how much the two of them had in common. The snoring part, not the flame part. If Ember were here, she would be snorting at the two of them, pawing the ground in disgust, waving her elegant tail in their direction. Though he loved flying, he missed his horse and the certain spice she brought to his life—spice that would be at full heat when he eventually returned home. A whole bag of apples might not be enough to get back into her good graces.

Laughter filtered into his ears, and Rhen looked over his shoulder to see Jasper and Bran playing games in the sand. The four riders had made camp on a nearby beach, keeping an eye on the ravine but doing their best to give Jinji what she'd asked for—time. The two boys were crouched over a circle of pebbles, tossing rocks at targets. Every so often, an unnatural wind would blow by, and then the ground would tremble. A clear sign that Jasper was cheating, and Bran was trying to make him honest. Rhen grinned, shaking his head.

Firestorm shifted behind him, shoving Rhen into the sand.

"Hey," he chided, but then he followed the dragon's gaze, spotting a splash on the horizon. The water dragon broke free of a wave, emerging from the depths of the ocean with Leena crouched against her back.

Rhen watched them approach, noting how the dragon's skin had changed color to match the darkening sea as the fading sun turned the sky to a soft indigo. They came to a stop by Rhen's side, and Leena slid from her dragon's back, gracefully taking the open spot beside him on the sand.

"Why do you insist on swimming when you can fly?" Rhen asked, gazing at her from the corner of his eye.

Leena grinned, gripping her long ebony hair and twisting the water from the soaking strands. Her skin glistened with droplets that sparkled as the moon began to reveal itself. "If you knew what it felt like to soar beneath the sea, Son of Whyl, you would too."

Rhen shuddered. "Fire and water weren't made to mix."

The princess nudged him. "We do all right."

Rhen's lips widened, and he released a soft laugh, letting some tension ease from his body. He'd come to realize the princess was far less stiff than she'd first seemed when he formally met her in Rayfort. When the opportunity allowed, she was fun, adventurous. It was just that recently those opportunities had been few and far between. Rhen sighed, watching Firestorm and Leena's dragon Tempest take flight together, nipping at each other's tails in play. He leaned back on the sand, cupping his head in his hands. Though he searched the sky for stars, he couldn't help but smile when flames and snow filled his vision instead.

"Did you find Cal?" he asked.

Leena gripped a handful of sand between her fingers, and then released it slowly, watching it fall back to the beach. "No."

"He wasn't in Roninhythe?"

She shook her head. "No one has seen him or his father in weeks. Wherever the Lord of Roninhythe is hiding, it's not in his home."

"Cal will find him," Rhen assured.

Leena nodded absently. "I know. I'm worried what will happen when he does. I didn't know him for long, but he seems like a gentle soul, a kind soul. I would hate for that to change."

"Time makes us all tougher." Rhen shook his head, pursing his lips. "But Cal has always been driven by his sense of what is right and what is wrong. His moral code is stronger than anyone else's that I've ever known. He understands that what his father did was wrong and that it cost innocent lives. He'll do what he must. He won't let this change him."

Leena's eyes shifted, turning down at the edges as her gaze pierced the horizon. "I sympathize with his plight." And then she twitched, breaking her focus to fall back against the beach. The sand stuck to her skin, speckling her olive, tattooed arms. "Has there been any sign of Jinji while I was away?"

Rhen sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and breathing deeply. "No."

"She too will do what she must," Leena said. "Eventually."

They fell into a peaceful silence after that. Rhen listened to the waves crash against the shore, heard the tide roll in and out, and let the sound calm him. Bran and Jasper later pulled the two of them from their seclusion, enlisting them to play another game, refusing to allow Leena and Rhen to do what the two of them did best—ruminate. The dragons circled, watching from above. When an odd breeze rolled through every now and again, Rhen instructed Firestorm to blow a flame in the air dragon's face. And when the dragons grew bored of watching their riders play, they swooped down and roughed up the sand. After that, there was nothing left to do but fly.

Many hours later, after sleep had claimed them all, Rhen woke to the pressure of a finger against his lips. He opened his eyes, unsure if he was dreaming or awake.

"Jin?" he murmured against her skin.

But she shook her head, not responding and signaling quiet. Then she motioned for him to follow her as she crept away from the others, away from the circle of light the campfire created, and into the night.

The farther they walked, the more Rhen tried to fight the tingle down his spine, warning that something was wrong. That Jinji was wrong. Her hips swayed seductively with each slow step. She cast a glance over her shoulder to make sure he followed, but her eyes were dark and dangerous, not sparkling with gold. Her shoulders were pulled back, her posture was strong and domineering—unusual for the woman who, Rhen knew, always tried to make her small frame even less imposing, who tried to fade.

He shook his head.

I'm just tired, he reasoned.

But when they stopped at the other end of the beach, skin silvery from the light of the moon, Rhen still couldn't shake it. Jinji pulled him close, running a finger from his navel to his nose, drinking him in. Her hands caressed his cheeks, slipping to his neck, gripping his hair. Then she tugged him down, hard, commanding, and pressed against him for a kiss.

Rhen wasn't complaining.

Well, his body certainly wasn't complaining.

But though he longed to give in to whatever mood had taken over the woman he loved, he just couldn't. Because he knew that whenever she acted out of character, it stemmed from something deeper, from worry or stress or fear. And though Rhen wanted her, he didn't want her like that.

"Jin," he murmured, trying to pull away.

But she wouldn't listen. Her lips tasted familiar yet foreign.

"Jin," he said softly again, insistently—a voice that normally made her pause, made her listen. But Jinji was unaffected.

Immediately, Rhen tensed.

Gentle but firm, he pushed Jinji away, holding her at a distance. He narrowed his eyes, peering deep into hers and was unable to recognize them. "Who are you?"

Jinji smirked, raising one brow. "Can't you guess?"

Rhen tightened his grip. Though the sound came through Jinji's lips, the voice was unrecognizable. This was the spirit—the soul sharing Jinji's body. It had to be. "What did you do?"

She didn't respond.

Rhen shook her furiously. "Let her go!"

Immediately, vines erupted from the sand, twisting around his ankles, up his legs, wrapping around his torso. Rhen tried to move, but he was trapped. The ivy tightened, suffocating. New coils roped around his arms, pulling them against his side. Rhen clenched his biceps, trying to fight, but it was useless. The plant stopped around his throat, leaving him just enough space to breathe and keeping his face untouched.

"You do not give orders to me," the spirit said and stepped closer, ignoring Rhen's struggles. Her palms cupped his cheeks, and she gazed into his eyes, lovingly running her thumb across his lower lip. She sighed. "You remind me so much of him."

"Of who?"

She dropped his cheeks as though they were on fire, stepping back. "No one."

"What do you want?" he growled. But in his mind he spoke different words. Jin! he shouted into the void, trying to find her, trying to find the mental connection the dragons had created between them. Jin!

"She can't hear you," the spirit said, fully aware of his actions. "She's asleep."

"For how long?" Rhen asked.

The spirit glared at him, flaring her nostrils. "The usual amount, a few more hours. I'm not strong enough to control her while she's awake, not yet. So we have limited time and much to discuss."

Rhen shook his head. "I have nothing to discuss with you."

The vines tightened around his throat.

"There is no need to be rude," the spirit accused. "We both want the same thing. To send my shadow-self back to his world, to rid him from my realm. And we both know your precious Jinji won't do it, no matter how hard she tries."

Rhen licked his lips, remaining silent.

She was right. He knew it. And she knew it too.

Unfortunately.

"I see everything Jinji sees," the spirit continued. "And I saw your face when she left you, dropping down by the body of her mangled brother. I saw the expression in your eyes the moment before she sealed you out. And I knew you understood. Jinji will never end his life. But if you help me, I can."

In a flash, the ivy holding him disappeared. Rhen stumbled over the sand, searching for his balance. The spirit turned away, focusing on the spot to their side. Instantly, a table and two chairs appeared, along with food and Rhen's favorite thing—ale. She sat down, motioning for him to follow. And though it felt as though he were being disloyal, he did.

Rhen grabbed a pint, taking a deep sip as his mind wandered back. The spirit was right. He could picture Jinji at the bottom of the ravine, crouching over her brother protectively and staring up at him with a challenging glint in her eye.

Time.

There was no time. There would never be enough time. It was just an excuse.

Jinji could lie to herself but not to him. He'd seen it in her stance, and he'd heard it in her plea. She would never hurt Janu even if she promised otherwise.

"I'm listening," Rhen whispered, forcing the words through his lips.

The spirit smiled. "I thought you might."

Nausea sprouted in his gut. The kind he couldn't drink away. He shuddered, unable to fight the pain. Just having this conversation was a betrayal. Even listening to the spirit for a moment felt like infidelity, felt wrong. When he looked at the spirit, though she was so different from Jinji, he was reminded of his love—reminded that she was trapped somewhere within her own body, without control, at the mercy of a god Rhen didn't trust or understand.

The spirit noticed, narrowing her eyes. A moment later, the air before her face shimmered. She ran her hands through her hair, and it grew long, changing to the color of straw. Her face shifted before his eyes, chin lengthening, cheeks brightening, eyes turning to blue. Even her body transformed, becoming taller, curvier. No longer Jinji but a stranger.

"Perhaps it will be easier for you to speak like this," she said.

Rhen swallowed. The woman he loved was gone. And though it was simpler to speak to the spirit like this, as though she were a different person, a thought broke his heart.

At this very moment, Jinji didn’t exist in the world.

Not even her body.

Nothing.

"No," he said quickly, voice strangled. "I'd rather look at her, even if I can't speak to her. I'd rather be near her."

The illusion faded. "Very well."

The sight of Jinji's face calmed him, gave him strength. The elegant angle of her eyes. The fullness of her lips. The defined curve of her cheeks. All of it reminded Rhen what he was fighting for—the world, yes, but also to save Jinji from having to make a choice that would break her. He would rather she hate him than hate herself.

"What do you need me to do?" Rhen asked, voice a little sturdier than before, a little more assured.

"My shadow-self and I have come to an arrangement," she said. "You—"

"What arrangement?" Rhen interrupted.

She pursed her lips, eyeing him with frustration. "You don't need to be concerned with that. The deal will move forward whether you approve of it or not."

Rhen leaned back, smirking and taking a long sip of ale. "You've come out of your way to wake me in the middle of the night, to lead me here alone, to convince me to come to your side. You need me more than I need you. Clearly, this arrangement won't move forward without my help. But I've made plans of my own, plans that you aren't involved in, and I can move forward with them should I please." Rhen paused, letting his words sink in. He didn't have other plans, not really. He had visions of burning the shadow to a crisp, but that was little more than a dream. Still, the spirit didn't need to know that. "Tell me the truth. What is the deal?"

Her nostrils flared again, and she scowled. But then she blinked, clearing her face of all emotion, all expression. "Your precious Jinji has made a deal with my shadow-self to keep Janu alive. You need me more than you might think."

Rhen inhaled sharply.

Jinji made a deal with the shadow? Jinji was siding with the shadow?

He shook his head, bringing his brows together, unable to hide his confused reaction. How could she do that? How could she trust a murderer more than she trusted him? How could she choose the side of a killer? How could she doom the world to that fate?

"Yes, that's right," the spirit continued, twisting the knife a little deeper, making it hurt. "Jinji has already betrayed you all. If you don't help me, she will let the world perish. Do you love her enough to watch everyone else you care for die? Your brother? Your little nephew? The other riders? The fire dragon? Are they enough to convince you?"

"Stop," Rhen said darkly through gritted teeth. He didn't want to believe the spirit, and yet something in his gut told him that her words were true. The image of Jinji looking up at him, whispering the word time, came to the forefront of his thoughts, flashing across his mind once more. Jinji would agree to anything to keep Janu alive—even a deal with the shadow.

"My shadow-self and I have come to an arrangement," the spirit repeated forcefully. "Rest assured it will send him from this earth, and he will not return. Not ever. I have given into his demands. He will have no reason to haunt my realm any longer. But the only way to finalize this bargain is to put a knife through his heart myself."

"To kill Janu?"

"That is the only way to send my shadow-self back to his world. And once he is there, I will follow."

Rhen licked his lips, thinking. An uneasy feeling settled over his limbs—mistrust. "And what will happen to Jinji? How do I know you will not do the same to her once he is gone? How will you hold up your end of the deal?"

"She will be safe," the spirit said, shrugging, unconcerned. "Death is the only way to send my shadow-self from this realm because he is death. But I am life and this is my spirit world, and I can come and go as I please."

The explanation did not satisfy Rhen. "I want your promise that Jinji will not be harmed."

"I promise," the spirit said, not pausing. But it slid almost too easily off her tongue. Before Rhen could interject, she continued, shifting in her seat and folding her hands in her lap. "Now that brings us to you."

The food on the table between them disappeared. The ale, the plates, the cups, everything. And in their place, a small vial appeared—sealed tight and filled with a clear liquid.

"Tomorrow night, Jinji will come to you, warning that a great battle will be taking place the next day. And the following morning, when she wakes, you will slip this into her drink."

Rhen picked the vial up. The glass was no larger than his thumb. "What is it?"

"The elixir will make her drowsy, lethargic enough to diminish her strength and allow me to seize control of her body."

Rhen glanced up, meeting the spirit's eyes. "Why do you need this? You are controlling her right now. Why can you not carry out this plan in the dead of the night, while she is fast asleep and none the wiser?"

On the tabletop, the spirit's hands clenched into fists. Her voice came out strained when she spoke. "Because right now, I am playing a very perilous balancing act. I'm using all of my strength to keep her mind asleep, all of my focus. And I cannot afford to be so distracted when the time comes."

A sliver of pride surged in Rhen's chest, as though Jinji's strength were his own. But then another thought brought him back to the reality of the situation. "Why do you need me to give this to her? Why must I betray her? Why not you? Why not the shadow or Janu?"

"Because," the spirit hissed, aggravated, "the elixir will affect only her mind. She must be awake and in control of this body when she drinks it. I cannot drink it for her or my mind is the one that would be affected. And the shadow? Do you really believe she would take anything from my shadow-self? She might trust him enough to make a deal, but she doesn't trust him that much. And Janu is a weak fool. He would never be strong enough for this. You are the only one she trusts, which means you are the only one wh—"

"Who can deceive her?" Rhen interrupted softly.

"Who can save her from herself."

Rhen tightened his fingers around the vial, pausing. Swallowing. Breathing. Thinking. And then he put it in his pocket, tucking it safely away.

The spirit grinned. And though she wiped the smirk from her face quickly, Rhen saw it. He stored the image in his mind, tucking that safely away too. He didn't trust this woman. He never would.

The spirit reached across the table, placing her palm over his hand. "I was hoping that would be your response."

"I haven't made my decision yet," Rhen spat, standing, repulsed by her touch.

"You'll do the right thing," the spirit said calmly, unfazed, no doubt in her mind. "When the armies of my shadow-self are scattered across the land, when the phantoms are poised to make their final strike, you'll understand. You'll do what needs to be done. You'll do what Jinji cannot."

Rhen turned his back on her, unable to listen any longer. In the distance, the orange flicker of his campfire and the luminescent glow of his slumbering dragon called to him. Rhen walked toward them, digging his feet into the sand, doing his best to walk and not run away.

"I'll be seeing you soon," the spirit called, voice blowing over him like a gentle breeze, making him cold.

Rhen didn't want to give her the satisfaction of a response.

He didn’t want to give in to the taunt.

But he did want to see Jinji one last time. He couldn't help it. He just wanted one second longer to take in her beauty, to remind himself what he was fighting for, to remember the compassionate soul he was trying to protect.

When he turned, she was gone.

The beach was empty. The ocean glistened with the light of the moon. The sand was blanketed in darkness. The whole night could be a dream. But Rhen placed his hand to his chest, feeling the bulge in his pocket, the small cylindrical shape he couldn't ignore, the vial of poison he would have to feed to the woman he loved.

Tonight was no dream.

It was a nightmare.

And it was the only option he had left.

17

JINJI

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Jinji woke exhausted for the third morning in a row. Stretching her arms overhead, she opened her eyes to darkness once more. But in those shadows, a face lingered, remnants of a dream Jinji couldn't quite hold on to.

Rhen.

Watching her intently.

No love in his eyes.

She blinked, sitting up, trying to dispel the image. For some reason, it felt more like a memory than a dream. But Rhen would never look at her like that—like a stranger, like the enemy. It was just a nightmare, something concocted by her mind in the fearful hours of the night. Nothing more. Definitely nothing that should concern her now.

"I think this darkness is making me crazy," Jinji murmured, turning to Janu. "It's time for sunlight again."

He nodded sleepily, still waking from his dreams—dreams Jinji guessed were far darker than her own. They both needed the fresh air and the warmth of the sun on their skin. Neither of them was made for the underground. They were made for the forest, for the sounds and sights of life. So Jinji lifted her palms, closing her eyes for a moment, and willed the ceiling over their heads away. She smoothed out the angles of the ravine, turning the steep cliffs into a rolling hill instead. The sharp rocks around them disappeared, transforming to soft grass. No one else would be injured in this spot ever again, especially not her brother.

When she opened her eyes, Jinji noticed something in the stark morning light, and she lifted her toes, inspecting them.

Sand.

Trapped under her toenails were little grains of sand, and she had no idea where they'd come from. Hadn't her dream with Rhen been on a beach? Hadn't the waves been rolling in her ears?

"Jinji?" Janu asked, interrupting her.

"Yeah," she said quickly, jolted, trying to clear the doubts from her mind.

Her fears were getting the best of her.

The shadow's taunts were getting the best of her.

But she refused to let him win.

"Will we rejoin the others today?" Janu asked, stretching and pushing the sleep from his limbs.

Jinji bit her lip, pulling her knees into her chest, curling up and thinking. "I don't know." And then she smiled playfully, turning to her twin. "Why? Do you tire of me already?"

Janu rolled his eyes, reminding Jinji so much of herself for a moment. "I know you well enough to know that this is your version of running and hiding. I don't want to steal you from your friends, Jinji. From your loved ones." He paused, licking his lips, furrowing his brows for a moment as though coming to a decision. And then he completed his thought. "From Rhen."

Her brows shot up. "Since when are you concerned with Rhen?"

Janu shrugged, leaning back and turning his face to the sky, letting the sun make his tan skin even tanner. "I admit I was hesitant at first," he said cautiously. Jinji glanced at him pointedly, but he didn’t see. "We spent our entire lives hearing only one thing of the newworlders—that they were untrustworthy. That they stole our entire civilization from us—our lands, our culture, even our language. And while that's true, that was a long time ago. And with my own eyes, I've seen how he looks at you. I've seen how all the riders look at you. And I think maybe there are a few newworlders out there who aren't quite so bad as I once believed."

"Janu, I—" But Jinji paused, swallowing as her throat closed with heady emotion. Never in her life did Jinji think she would get approval from her family, not when it concerned Rhen. And in this moment, it felt to her like Janu spoke for their whole tribe, as though their lost loved ones had come alive through him for a split second. For those first few weeks with Rhen, she had been tormented by what her parents would think of her, what Leoa would think to see her dearest friend falling for one of them, what Maniuk would think to see his matched betraying him with a newworlder prince.

But in this moment, Jinji felt vindicated.

If they were here, they would understand, just like Janu had.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Janu shrugged, unaware of how strongly his words were affecting her. "I've seen your eyes on that last day with our family a thousand times. The shadow haunted me with that memory over and over again. I've tortured myself with how broken you looked, how lost, how alone. And when I saw you again at the Gates, you were strong, defiant. You were more powerful and more self-assured than I had ever seen you before. And if that is because of Rhen, then I owe him thanks, not judgment. I want you to be happy, Jinji. When all of this is over, I want you to move on, to live your life, to let the past go, to let us go, and be free to be whoever you want. With whomever you want."

Jinji swallowed. "Us?" she asked.

Janu sat up, finding her eyes. But he didn't say a word.

"Why does that sound like goodbye?" she questioned.

His brows pulled tight. Frown-lines grooved into his forehead. But he didn’t say anything. He didn't have to. Janu still didn’t believe he would come out of this war alive. And Jinji wasn't truly sure he wanted to.

"What do you want to do today?" she asked, looking away first, letting her back fall down against the soft grass. Jinji wasn't in the mood to fight, they'd argued enough already. She was tired of it.

Instead, she turned her gaze to the blue sky and the green that stretched until the edge of the horizon. Janu was behind her. The riders were behind her. The dragons were behind her. She could sense them all just over her shoulder—Janu a few feet away, the others farther away but still connected to her through the bond of the spirit magic. All of them were waiting for her to make a move. But she didn't want to do anything except lie in the sun, letting the rays warm her, letting the warmth calm her. If the world allowed, she would stay there all day, letting the peace wash over her.

"Janu?" she murmured, realizing he never responded.

The silence stretched on suspiciously.

Fear jolted through her—fear of what her twin might be doing.

Jinji jumped up, turning. "Janu?"

The shadow regarded her calmly, a slight smile on his lips. "I didn't want to disturb you. Not when you looked so serene."

"Why are you here?" she grumbled. The shadow had left her and Janu alone for two days—two blissful days. She had not spoken with him since he'd made his offer. And she still didn't know what to say. Jinji would do anything to keep Janu alive—but she couldn't bring the words to her lips, couldn't bring herself to admit that out loud. She couldn't get the riders out of her mind. What would they think—what would Rhen think? Every time she pictured speaking to the shadow, shaking his hand, agreeing to his terms, the image of Rhen's fiery green eyes took over. And each time, they blazed with betrayal.

"I'm here with a warning," the shadow said lightly.

"A warning?" Her eyes narrowed.

"I've grown tired of this world," he commented, sighing. "The draining emotions, the tiresome conversations, the heavy limbs, the weak body, the fighting, the bickering, everything."

The shadow dug his fingers into the grass below them and tugged, pulling out a stalk, letting it go in the breeze. Jinji watched the green float away and fall, blending back in with the rest. But she knew soon it would brown and disintegrate—it would disappear.

"So leave us be," she growled under her breath, annoyed. "Leave us in peace and go home."

He grinned. "You misheard me. I've grown tired of this world, yes, but not of my quest. I'm ready to go home, and I'm ready for my spirit-self to come with me. Once she's gone from this place and the confusion it brings, everything will return to the way it's supposed to be. Just as it always does."

"So what are you going to do?" Jinji asked with a sigh. She had grown tired of the shadow's endless taunts. What new game was he asking her to play? What now? What next?

"Tomorrow, I'm going to end the world."

Jinji paused, blinking.

He said it so nonchalantly, without a worry or a care.

"What?" she asked, sitting up, eyes growing fierce.

He turned to her, unconcerned. "You heard me."

"How? Why?" she questioned, tone deepening, voice getting louder.

The shadow dropped down to the ground, eyes on the sky as his hands came behind his head, utterly relaxed in the bright sunlight. "I've used these past few days to figure out my final plan, and this morning I realized I had it. Tomorrow, the phantoms will return. The cities of Rayfort, Da'astiku, Fayfall, and Lothlian will be surrounded. You and your dragons will have to figure out who to save, what to do. And in the meantime, I will wait and see if my spirit-self is strong enough to end it."

Jinji's jaw dropped.

Her eyes ticked back and forth as she repeated the list of cities in her mind. Rayfort—Rhen. Da'astiku—Leena. Fayfall—Bran. Lothlian—Jasper. A city full of loved ones for each rider. How on earth would they choose? How on earth could they?

"But…" Jinji sputtered. Then she reached over, grabbing her brother's hand, jerking the shadow upright and forcing him to look at her. "I thought we had an agreement. I thought you were going to make a deal with your spirit-self? You promised I'd be able to save Janu."

"I have made a deal with her," he replied calmly, not giving any information away. "I'm just raising the stakes to ensure she holds up her end of the bargain."

"What deal? How?" Jinji's voice grew frantic, panicked.

"That doesn’t concern you. Just trust me."

"Trust you?" she spat, flinging his hand away. Jinji stood, pacing in circles around the shadow.

He sat at the center, not bothering to move. "There are three possible scenarios as to how tomorrow will work out. The first, and what I hope will happen, is that my spirit-self holds true to the bargain we've made. The world will be saved, and in the moment of her inevitable betrayal, you will have the opportunity to save your brother through our bargain. The second, perhaps the worst in your mind but not so in mine, is that my spirit-self is not strong enough to hold her end of our deal. My phantoms will ravage the land, leaving only you, your riders, and any other spirit-affinity humans alive. The world for a time will seem over, but in a few thousand years, you will rebuild. And for those few thousand years, my spirit-self will be forced to stay by my side. Not a horrible outcome. And the third situation, the worst in my understanding, is that to save the world you kill your brother. I will be sent back to my world, but I will return in a few short years, and I will not be willing to reason with you a second time around."

"Reason?" Jinji cried, pausing, staring at him. "You call this reasoning with me? What would you have me do? You've given me no options—no choice that I can possibly choose!" She threw her hands in the air, screaming just to release some of the tension in her limbs. "Would you have me wait for the morning to come, do nothing, let the spirit control my body without a fight, and just hope she betrays you, so I have a small chance of saving my twin? Or should I fight with my dragons and lose to your phantoms, letting the world perish, knowing that when the battle was done, all four of the other people left alive would despise me until the end of our days? Or, of course, I could murder my brother and delay the inevitable?"

The shadow shrugged. "Just because you don't like the choices, doesn't mean they aren't there."

What should I do? Jinji called into the back of her mind. But the voice didn't respond. The spirit was done helping her. The spirit was nowhere to be found.

Please, Jinji tried again. I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to decide the fate of the world.

Nothing.

No one.

What deal did you make? Jinji shouted at the spirit. What fate did you decide for me? For Janu? For Rhen?

The voice remained silent.

Jinji was abandoned, left alone with the weight of the world on her soul.

If I give you control tomorrow, can I trust you with all of our lives? Can I trust this compromise you've made with the shadow? Jinji whispered the thought, wilting under the utter quiet on the other side of her mind. Can I trust you? Could I ever?

"You can trust me," the shadow murmured, as though reading her thoughts.

Before Jinji could blink, could bring her attention back to the real world and respond, something hard slammed into the side of her head. She screamed, dropping to the ground as the pain zipped its way down her spine. Jinji lifted her hands, trying to weave anything that might protect her. But she was stupefied. Her thoughts were hazy and confused. The world was blurred. Her mind was utterly dazed, stunned into incoherence.

Her eyes opened just enough to see Janu looking over her.

"Trust me," the shadow purred.

He winked.

And the plate between his hands slammed down again, right in the middle of her forehead, turning her world black.

Darkness took over.

Time stopped.

Thought stopped.

Jinji stopped.

When she woke hours later, the sky was dark. The sun was gone. Even the stars seemed to be in hiding.

"Janu," she murmured, blinking, trying to sit up.

Even that slight movement made her head explode in pain. Jinji cried out, cringing, as a rainbow of agonizing colors burst behind her closed eyelids, each hue representing a different part of her that hurt.

Heal, she thought.

The spirits came. Even though the voice was in hiding, the magic of the mother spirit—the jinjiajanu present in the world around her—still listened. And her powers came quickly, shooting warmly across her body, sending a wave of sweet relief over her skin.

"Janu?" she said again when her strength returned.

Jinji jumped to her feet, peering through the ebony night. Spinning in circles, her eyes tried to cut through the shadows, to find shapes in the distance. But her brother was nowhere to be found. The shadow was gone, taking Janu with him. And then far off, Jinji saw something that comforted her—even now.

Flames danced across the sky.

A blaze sparked far off in the distance.

A small orange glow shot across the night like a falling star.

The fire dragon.

"Rhen," Jinji whispered, saying the word like a prayer.

And then she ran. And the burn in her legs felt good, felt like life. Even though her powers would get her there faster, Jinji didn't weave the spirits into a bird to carry her closer. Instead, her blood pumped. Her heart sped. Her breath came short. And her feet continued to pound against the grass. Each thump renewed her strength. Each beat brought the blaze closer, brought Rhen closer. The riders and their dragons came into view. Three of them slept. One of them did not—as though he were waiting for her, as though he knew tonight would be the night she would need him.

At the very edge of the sand, a wave of déjà vu stopped Jinji in her tracks.

Panting, she gazed at the beach.

Had she been here before?

The scene felt so familiar. Leena, Bran, Jasper, and their dragons were circled around a fire, peacefully fast asleep. Rhen stood far off to the side, feet submerged in the pulsing waves, eyes watching his dragon drift over the sea.

As though sensing her, he turned.

Jinji inhaled sharply.

So did Rhen.

All the doubts fled from her mind, all the worries.

She ran.

He did too.

Somewhere in the middle, Jinji jumped into his embrace, letting Rhen lift her. His arms wrapped tightly, catching her, and she buried her head into his chest, breathing in the burned charcoal scent that always hung around him.

"Rhen."

"Jin."

Each voice held as much joy as it did sorrow, as much relief as it did fear, as though they both knew they had almost come to the end.

Rhen released his hold just enough to let her smaller frame slip slowly to the floor. Jinji's feet hit the sand, digging in just slightly, and Rhen held her steady, keeping his hands firmly on her waist, refusing to let her go. Jinji met his smoldering evergreen eyes. Her hands found his blazing red hair. Her fingers touched the burning heat of his skin. She wanted so much to kiss him.

So she did.

The space between them was filled with unanswered questions, with conversations they both had to have, with words that needed to be said before the night was through. Jinji had to tell him of the shadow, of the battle the morning would bring, of the choice she had already decided to make. But as his lips pressed against hers, gently at first, all will to talk vanished. Jinji pressed firmer against him, removing the space between them and everything it represented.

In the morning, they would speak.

In the morning, they would face the decisions that awaited them.

In the morning, they would wake to the harsh light of day, unable to avoid anything any longer.

But tonight was for them.

Tonight, there were no words left.

Tonight, Jinji and Rhen held each other close, not coming up for air as their bodies found their way to the sand. Jinji's back pressed into the soft curves of the ground as Rhen leaned down over her, sighing into her ear. A delicious shiver curled down her spine, making her whole body tingle as Rhen's hands followed the path. She drank in his lips, his taste, his touch.

Tomorrow, Jinji didn’t know if she would live or die.

Tomorrow, she would choose the only option left.

Tomorrow, Jinji would give in to the shadow's wishes and would place all of her trust in a deal she had made with the enemy. A deal that had no details and no terms save one—it would keep her brother with her, it would keep them both alive.

Tomorrow, good or bad, her fate would find its fruition.

So right now, Jinji forgot everything and everyone else. She stole these last few hours of life that still belonged wholly to her and bestowed them to the one person who mattered most—Rhen. Jinji wove their love the same way she would the spirits, cocooning them in a place free of time, free of duty, free of everything except each other.

Hidden in their private world, Jinji held on tight to Rhen. He held on tight to her. And they fought the rising sun together.

18

RHEN

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Rhen didn't want to open his eyes.

The world behind his closed lids was washed in orange, bright from the light of day. His skin prickled with the heat of the sun's rays. Birds chirped in his ears.

The morning was undeniable.

But Rhen wasn't at all ready to face it.

The woman in his arms shifted, groaning softly in frustration. Without looking, Rhen pulled her close, sighing as her head fell on his chest, as her lips pressed softly into his shoulder, hot even through the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"No," Rhen growled.

"Me neither." She sighed, wriggling against his body to find a comfortable position. But in the exact moment that Jinji relaxed into her spot, water rushed over their feet, rolling up Rhen's legs, soaking his skin and clothes. They both jumped up, throwing their eyes open, a rude awakening. The sand beneath them grew soft and squishy. Rhen's toes sank into the soaked beach. He watched the wave retreat back to the ocean, staring at it accusingly as he shook the water from his skin.

Jinji didn't look over at him.

Rhen didn't glance at her.

The air between them was charged with mutual avoidance. The longer they took to meet each other's eyes, the longer the inevitable would be delayed. Last night was the prelude to goodbye. They both knew it. They both wanted to deny it as long as they could.

So Rhen's gaze flickered over everything except for the woman by his side. The sun that had seemed so forebodingly bright against his closed eyes had really barely risen. The sky was a soft lavender. Morning had barely even begun. The riders on the other side of the beach still slept. Firestorm rested with them, but his eyes were on Rhen. Even from this distance, there was concern in the dragon's gaze. As Rhen ran his hands over his clothes, shaking the sand and sea from the silks, his fingers found something else. The vial in his pocket. The one the spirit had given him along with the promise that Jinji would be safe, the world would be safe, and the war would be over. But only if Rhen could do one thing—betray the woman he loved.

Just like that, he couldn't deny the choice he had to make any longer. The sun was rising, the morning had started, and the spirit had been adamant that today was the only chance they all had to defeat the shadow.

Against his will, Rhen's eyes found Jinji.

Sensing his attention, she turned slowly, head spinning far enough to meet his gaze out of the corner of her eye. Shoulders dropping, she wilted just slightly before turning fully to face him.

"Rhen."

"Jin."

They both paused.

"The shadow is calling forth his phantoms today," Jinji said softly.

Rhen's heart began to pound in his chest. That's what the spirit had told him Jinji would say—that the phantoms were coming, that a great battle was about to begin. It was the cue he was waiting for, the signal that it was time for him to trick the woman he loved into taking an elixir that would strip her of all control—an elixir that would allow the spirit to gain ownership of their shared body in order to meet with the shadow and end this war once and for all.

His fingers trembled.

Rhen took a shaky breath.

The moment had come too soon, and all he could think to do was prolong what little time they had left. Trying to act surprised so Jinji wouldn't realize he'd been expecting those words and had been dreading them, he infused shock into his tone, quickly responding, "When? How?"

Jinji bit her lip. Her aura oozed with unease, with indecision. "The shadow spoke to me yesterday, he told me his plan. The phantoms will appear outside of the cities of Rayfort, Da'astiku, Fayfall, and Lothlian. And they will not relent until the world is destroyed."

Rhen inhaled sharply as the image of a black cloud descending over his home filled his vision. Whyllem. Whyllean. His mother. Everyone else he knew in the world, everyone he loved. And then the names of the other cities sunk in. "One for each rider?"

Jinji nodded solemnly.

"What will we do? What can we?" he questioned, voice raw.

Jinji shook her head, plump lips pulled thin. "I don't know. Each rider will have to choose for themselves and decide whether it is best to stay together or part ways to protect your homes and your families as best you can."

But they both knew that the riders alone would be helpless against the carnage. Rhen swallowed, trying to clear the tightness from his throat. "And what will you do?"

Jinji collapsed as her legs gave out. She sank silently to the sand, landing softly on her bum, not even aware of the cold, wet beach beneath her. "I don't know," she said, voice utterly hollow.

Rhen followed her down, bringing his arm around her and pulling her against his side. She melted into him.

"The shadow gave me three choices," she confessed. "The first is to try my best to fight with the dragons and save at least one city from destruction, but he says there will be no retreating today. The phantoms will kill everyone on this earth."

"Jin—"

"I know," she interrupted, already anticipating Rhen's words. "I won't let that happen. My second option is to murder my own brother, but the shadow assures me he will only return. And next time, vengeance will be that much stronger in his heart."

Jinji looked up at Rhen, waiting for an immediate denial, waiting for him to say the choice wasn't a viable option. But Rhen kept his eyes on the horizon, hating himself for the emotionless words that sprouted from his lips. "Where is Janu?"

Immediately, she glanced away, releasing a disappointed breath, a sound completely devoid of hope. "I don't know. The shadow caught me unaware. He knocked me unconscious and then ran away. I can't sense his presence anywhere. I don't know where to even begin to look."

Instead of pressing the point, Rhen let it go. "What's the third option?"

"To give the spirit control," Jinji admitted.

Rhen didn’t know what to say. Those were the exact words he expected, the exact words he feared. When the spirit had come to him in the dead of the night, she confessed her plan to take control of Jinji's body in order to meet with the shadow to finalize their deal and save her world. In fact, she confessed to needing Rhen's help to do it. The vial she had given him still rested in his pocket, and it suddenly began to weigh a hundred pounds, bringing an ache to his heart, a hunch to his back. The inevitability of betrayal left a bitter taste on his tongue.

She judged his silence as a sign to continue. "The shadow says he has made a deal with the spirit, one that will save the world. I don't know if I can trust him. I don't know if I can trust the spirit. I'm not sure I have faith that this compromise will not kill us all, will not leave the dragons destroyed and the riders struggling for life, will not leave Janu and me with daggers in our hearts, will not leave you and me on different paths, moving in opposite directions, traveling toward places the other cannot follow."

"Do you have faith in us?" Rhen questioned softly.

Jinji met his gaze. "We are the only thing I have faith in."

He kissed her forehead, remembering the spirit's promise that if Rhen did what she asked and gave the elixir to Jinji, the woman he loved wouldn't be harmed. She might hate him, but she would be safe.

Speaking almost to himself, Rhen whispered, "Then have faith that whatever you decide, we'll find our way back to each other. We always do. We always will."

Jinji nodded but remained silent, as though unwilling to say her next words out loud.

But Rhen needed to hear them. "It sounds as though you've already made your decision."

A statement, not a question.

Jinji licked her lips. "I have."

"And what is it?"

"The first option would bring utter destruction to the world. The second would remove any possible chance of my brother surviving. So there is only one option left, one option that provides at least the slightest hint of hope, to give myself over to the spirit as she has longed for, to give the shadow exactly what he wants." Jinji paused, breathing deeply. "I must trust in someone I'm deathly afraid will betray me."

"She won't," Rhen assured.

"Mhmm…" Jinji murmured, staring off into the distance, mind somewhere else.

"The spirit," Rhen said, squeezing her arm encouragingly, "she's led us this far. She's shown us the dragons. She's shown you your powers. Why would she lead us astray now? Why would she betray you?"

Why would she betray us? he added silently, all too aware of the vial in his pocket and the choice he still had to make. A choice that was starting to seem like the only option left.

Jinji shook her head, not saying anything. Then she pulled her legs into her chest and rested her chin atop her knees. Goose bumps rose along the exposed skin of her arms. Trembling, she whispered, "I'm frightened."

"Me too," Rhen admitted, feeling his own heart skip a beat, fluttering erratically in his chest.

Jinji shifted her head, peering at him. "What are you afraid of?"

"Losing you," he said without hesitation. Losing you by trying to save you. Losing your forgiveness, losing your heart. "What are you afraid of?"

"Not being strong enough to give you up," she whispered.

Rhen knotted his brows. "Why would you have to give me up?"

"Why would you have to lose me?" she retorted solemnly.

Neither answered.

But the silence was answer enough.

They were both keeping secrets. Yet Rhen couldn't press Jinji for the truth, not when he knew in his heart that he couldn't tell her the truth about the doubts that plagued his mind. Even after hearing from her own lips that she intended to give the spirit control of her body, Rhen wasn't sure what to do. But he couldn't ask for her help or her opinion. The spirit had been adamant—the elixir had to be a surprise, Jinji couldn't know about it, couldn't have any opportunity to fight it. Would it still be a betrayal? Or now, knowing Jinji's choice, would Rhen be helping her? Would she welcome the aid?

"What do you think will happen when you give the spirit control?" he asked, more for himself, to convince himself that there was no other choice.

"The shadow will be waiting for her," Jinji said, squeezing her knees tighter against her chest. Anxiously, she began to dig her toes in the sand, burying her feet in the moist beach. "Somehow, without my knowing, they've spoken, they've made a deal with each other."

Rhen swallowed, sealing his lips shut. He knew how the spirit had spoken to the shadow, he knew the spirit's dirty little secret—in the dead of the night, she could take control of Jinji's body and have whatever conversations she wanted to. But he bit his tongue.

Jinji continued talking, eyes on the water lapping around her toes, unaware of Rhen's pursed mouth. "I'm not sure what their arrangement is, but I know deep down I won't be entirely happy with it. Which is my fear. I worry that when the time comes, I won't be able to stop myself from fighting—for Janu, for myself, for you. I'll give the spirit control, for now. But it's not in my nature to sit idle. It's not in my nature to give up. I'm not sure I know how."

Rhen clenched his fist, digging his free hand into the sand and squeezing it dry. What else did he need to hear before he would act? What else did Jinji need to confess? She wanted to give the spirit control. She wanted the world to be saved. And he could help her. If he gave her the elixir, Jinji wouldn't be able to fight. He could make her guiltless. The choice to kill Janu would belong only to him and to the spirit—Jinji could fight with all of her heart. She could resist until the end. She could come out the other side knowing she tried whatever she could to save him, knowing there was nothing else she could have done to keep her brother alive.

"Will you be safe?" he whispered, forcing the words up his tense throat. All of his muscles were coiled tight, waiting. This was the last assurance he needed to hear. The last piece of the puzzle.

Jinji broke her far-off stare and turned to look at him, feeling the sudden firmness of his clenching muscles. "Would that change anything?" she murmured. "We still need to save the world."

Rhen gritted his teeth, shaking his head. "It would change everything if I thought for one moment you wouldn't come back to me."

And it would.

Because there was another option he was willing to consider even if Jinji wasn't—sending Janu from this earth before the compromise could be made. Sure, the shadow would return. But they would be ready when he did. They would find him. They would kill him again. On and on for as long as they had to. Rhen would fight that battle for the rest of his life if it were the only way to keep Jinji safe. All of the riders would.

Sensing his darkening mood, Jinji shifted, placing her palms on his cheeks, forcing Rhen to meet her golden eyes. They were soft and loving, regarding him with an outpouring of affection. And deep in those irises, there was understanding, as though she could read every thought racing through his mind. And maybe she could.

"Rhen," Jinji cooed, holding his gaze.

At the sound, his entire body relaxed. The pent up tension released.

Her gaze ticked back and forth, jumping from his left eye to his right, trying to uncover all of his secrets. "I'll be all right," she said softly. "I promise."

Rhen released a long breath.

That assurance from her lips was all he needed to hear.

There was no avoiding his fate any longer.

Before she could move, he leaned forward, pressing their lips together for a quick kiss. And then he jumped up, stretching his muscles, trying to change the mood of the morning. The more jovial he seemed, the less she would expect anything and the easier it would be to fool himself into believing it was just another day.

"Are you thirsty? Hungry?" he said, speaking lightly, trying to ease the strain from his voice. "We deserve one last meal together before the battle begins. The morning is too beautiful to be wasted with so much worry."

Jinji shrugged and a small smile graced her lips. But dark thoughts still swirled in her golden irises. "What do you want? I can weave it for you."

He shook his head quickly…too quickly. But Jinji was still deep within her own thoughts, in another world entirely, and she didn’t notice his growing panic. "No," he answered evenly, clearing the anxiety from his tone. "Let me bring you something. Let me do this the old-fashioned way."

Jinji peered at him for a moment, eyes glistening with amusement. Then she lifted her brows in defeat. "Okay."

"Stay here," he instructed, backing away.

After a few steps, when he was certain she was no longer paying attention to him, Rhen turned and marched back to the rest of the riders to search through the meager bit of supplies they had managed to scrounge together. Moving as quietly as possible, trying not to wake the others, he dug through their bags, pulling free some of the fruits Leena had gathered on her trip to Roninhythe, some of the berries they had plucked from nearby bushes, some of the bread they still had from their short stay in Brython. It was a little hard, but it would do. Lastly, Rhen grabbed the empty pot, wincing just slightly, guilt filling his empty chest. But he forced his grip to remain firm as he walked over to Tempest and nudged the water dragon awake.

"Please?" he whispered.

Usually Leena did this for them. But the desperation in his gaze must have spoken to the dragon because without protest, she filled the pot with water and even snorted a few small cubes of ice in to keep it cold. Rhen ran a hand over her snout, thanking the dragon silently. And then he dropped to his knees, grabbing two empty canteens and filling them to the brim. He sealed the first, and then paused, shutting his eyes tight, torn. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the vial, and stopped cold.

Could he do this?

Did he have the strength?

Rhen opened his eyes, staring at the small glass cylinder in his hand, trying to gather his will. The spirit had promised that Jinji would be safe, had promised that this was the only way to end the battle with the shadow. Jinji herself had promised that she would be all right, had admitted that giving herself to the spirit was the only choice she would make. So why was he hesitating?

Rhen swallowed. There was one last question.

How would Jinji react when she found out?

Would she ever forgive him?

Was Rhen willing to risk that to save her soul, to save the world?

He bit his lower lip, clenching his fist around the small vial, heart pounding wildly in his chest. If he didn’t pour the liquid in her drink, Rhen shuddered to think what might happen. Either Jinji would regain control of her body before the spirit and shadow could come to a deal—in which case the phantoms would run rampant over the earth, killing everything in their path—or Jinji would sit idle while the spirit murdered her brother in order to send the shadow away from this world, and she would take all the blame on herself for not fighting for his life. Either way, she would end up broken, spent, a mere shell of the woman he loved.

Or he could do this.

He could steal the decision from her.

Rhen imagined her eyes clouded in self-loathing, in disgust. He pictured her broken, soul shattered, left as a weak replica of the strong-willed beauty he knew her to be. And he knew.

He would do anything to keep that from happening.

He would rather risk losing her love than risk Jinji losing herself. He would rather she come to despise him than despise herself. He would rather she never forgive him than never forgive herself.

Before he could second-guess, Rhen poured the contents of the vial into her canteen and sealed it shut.

It was done.

Rhen looked up, heart leaping in his chest as he met the dark, questioning eyes of the princess. Leena watched him curiously, brows knotted as her gaze flicked between the canteen and his eyes, back to the canteen, back to his torn expression. She tilted her head, sitting up, widening her lips to speak.

Rhen reached out quickly, putting his hand over her mouth, hoping Jinji wasn't watching, hoping she couldn't hear. And then he shook his head silently, desperately. And though Leena didn't understand, she nodded. Her gaze slipped over his shoulder, and he knew the princess was looking at Jinji. He didn't dare turn his head to follow her gaze.

After a moment, Leena sank back down to the sand.

She closed her eyes.

She pretended for his sake to be asleep.

But in Rhen's mind she was something else—a witness to his betrayal. And he felt her umber eyes on him the whole time he walked back to Jinji—they bore into his back with a judgment and accusation concocted by his own mind.

"What did you find?" Jinji asked when he returned and sat silently by her side.

But Rhen couldn't speak. His throat was closed with heady emotion, with confession, and if he opened his lips, he knew the truth would spill out. Instead, he laid the food down on a cloth and stretched his trembling arm, offering her some water. Jinji didn't notice the tremors pulsing over his bicep, the shake of his fingers. Or if she did, she wrote it off as something else, as a side effect of the battle ahead. Jinji reached out, trusting him completely, and took the canteen.

Her mouth closed over the lip of the bottle.

Her head leaned back.

Her throat pulsed with a swallow.

Rhen watched it all mutely. He was stuck. Jinji didn’t know it yet, but this was their goodbye. This was the moment that everything in their relationship would change. This was the moment Rhen betrayed her trust, betrayed their love. And this was the moment that would cause hatred to fill her golden eyes the next time she gazed at him.

"Rhen?" she asked teasingly, watching him with bemusement, shaking her head at his odd behavior.

Jinji took another sip.

And another.

As she raised her arm for a fourth taste of the cool liquid, she paused. The canteen dropped from her fingers as her grip slackened. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the confusion. Her body swayed, losing strength. Rhen caught her before she fell. He cradled her in his arms, apology filling his wet eyes as he hugged her close, leaning over her protectively.

"Rhen?" she asked.

But the tears had already started to fall. He couldn’t hold them back any longer. She watched a drop slide from the corner of his eye, following its path down his cheek, staring as it slipped from his chin and landed on her chest. Then her gaze returned to his eyes, questioning him silently. She opened her mouth but nothing came.

"I love you," he whispered, throat raspy and choked up. "Please forgive me."

Jinji's eyes slid shut while he spoke.

The woman he loved was gone.

His plea hung in the air, unanswered.

19

JINJI

~ RONINHYTHE ~

Rhen?

Jinji tried to say his name again, but her mouth wouldn't open, her lips wouldn't move. A woozy, dizzy feeling washed over her as the world spun. Was he crying? A warm droplet landed on her chest, then her cheek, slipping over her lips. Were they his? Were they hers?

"I love you," he murmured.

I love you, too, she tried to answer. But the words wouldn't come. His face was starting to fade away. The world was growing black. She focused on the brilliant green of his eyes, trying to hold on to his despair, trying to understand it. Just before her lids slid shut, Jinji heard his final words.

"Please forgive me."

And she understood. Pain rippled across her senses—heartbreak. He'd done this to her.

But why?

To find Janu?

Was Rhen taking matters into his own hands now? Was he going to find her brother, to kill him?

Jinji had seen it in his eyes when he asked if she would live—an unyielding determination to ensure that she was safe, that no harm came to her. And she didn't have the heart to tell him that no, she wouldn't survive if the spirit gained control, not if her plan was still to send herself and the shadow from this realm, to drive a knife through both of their hearts. Jinji hadn't wanted to say goodbye to the man she loved, couldn't bear to let him know she marched to her death. But there was no other outcome Jinji could visualize, not unless the shadow came through on their deal. He had said that the spirit would betray him, would betray them all. He had said that when that moment came, he would offer Jinji a way to keep Janu safe, to keep them both alive.

But what if the shadow had lied? What if that moment never came? What if there was no way to keep Janu and her alive?

What if this was her last chance to say goodbye?

Rhen!

But he wasn't there. No one was. She was drifting in a dark sea, directionless, waiting for someone to take control.

And then someone did.

Pressure filled the void Jinji floated in. The ebony nothingness behind her closed eyelids became cramped and crowded. Her soul was pushed away, pushed over. Jinji felt herself grow smaller, crushed beneath the weight of the force, squeezing more and more compact until she was shoved into the corner of her own mind, locked away there.

Jinji tried, but she couldn't fight.

Her limbs were no longer connected to her.

Her mind was slow and sluggish. Her thoughts were confused. She couldn't focus for even a second, definitely not long enough to struggle, not long enough to provide even the façade of competition over the control of her own body. Her eyes opened, painfully bright. But they weren't hers any longer. She was a spectator, locked far away, staring at a distance.

Rhen's face loomed above. His wet cheeks glistened in the sun. His eyes were closed, pressed shut, creating deep frown wrinkles. His lips wobbled. His shoulders shook. Jinji watched as though staring at him through a clear film, so close but so far away. She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over his cheeks, but her hand remained still by her side.

And then she wasn't still.

Against her will, she rose, sitting up. Jinji watched Rhen jerk, shifting away, eyeing her cautiously, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I told you we'd meet again," the spirit said, speaking through Jinji's lips, voice similar yet so very different.

Locked away in the prison of her mind, Jinji jerked with understanding, off-balance as though an ocean wave had knocked the land out from beneath her. But she didn’t want to admit what was now so blatantly obvious. She didn't want to believe it could be true. Her soul shook in its little hovel, helplessly watching the scene unfold.

Rhen stood, jumping away, clearing his throat. "It's done."

And there was not a tremor of doubt in his voice. He knew exactly whom he was speaking to. He knew exactly what he'd done. Somehow, someway, he had made a deal with the spirit. The betrayal stabbed like a knife in her heart. Sharp. Merciless. Fatal.

Rhen! Jinji shouted. What did you do? Why?

He didn’t hear. She was gone. She was right where he'd helped send her.

Rhen, she whimpered silently in her cell.

That's right, the spirit suddenly snapped, speaking to Jinji silently so that Rhen could not hear. Her voice brimmed with smug victory, yet her tone was sharp and edged with loathing. He betrayed you, just like I told you he would. Did you really think he would listen after finding out Janu's true identity? Did you really think you could trust him? Did you truly believe he loved you enough to risk the world?

Stop, Jinji cried. Denial—denial was all she had left to fight with.

I told you, the voice continued. I told you that as soon as he discovered your lies, you would lose him. That his love would turn to hate. You chose your brother over him. He chose the world over you.

Rhen! Jinji shouted again.

But the spirit was unmoved by Jinji's pleas. Instead, she turned away from Rhen without so much as a goodbye. But a hand grabbed her arm, spinning them both around.

"You promised to keep her safe," Rhen growled.

Jinji paused.

That was the deal. Of course, that was the trick the spirit had used to make him agree. Jinji's safety in return for his help. The world's safety in return for his help.

Oh, Rhen, she thought sadly. His heart was too big. He had wanted to remove the burden from her shoulders. He had wanted to save her from a decision he knew would break her. Jinji saw everything so clearly now. The spirit had taken his innocent, pure, naïve desire and had twisted it to fit her needs.

Jinji wished to reach out to him. To touch him. To tell him she understood.

But loathing brought goose bumps to her skin—the spirit's loathing. And a moment later, her body was shrugging out of Rhen's grip, pushing against his warm skin as a blast of wind hit him squarely in the chest, knocking him away.

The spirit took a deep breath, struggling for control.

"I promised you no harm would come to her," the spirit said smoothly. But Jinji heard the strain in those words, the gritted pressure the spirit used to force them through her lips.

Lies.

Always lies, just like the shadow had said.

But Rhen didn't hear what Jinji heard. He heard the silky smooth voice the spirit projected, and he nodded. He thought they had an understanding. He thought he could trust her. He thought the spirit was trying to help, that she was on their side. And why not? Jinji had never bothered to fill him in, to tell him any differently.

Rhen! she tried again, cursing her own stupidity.

Jinji needed to talk to him, to tell him the whole truth. If she had just done that in the first place, if she had explained her deal with the shadow and explained the spirit's lies, none of this would have happened. If she had revealed her secrets—all of her secrets—how much heartbreak could have been avoided? If she had trusted in their love, trusted in Rhen's faith in her instead of fearing how he would react to her plan, what might have happened?

It wasn't his fault that he believed the spirit's lies, not really. It was hers.

And she would pay for that mistake with her life.

"Are the phantoms really coming?" Rhen asked with a haunted tone, completely unaware of Jinji's struggle to reach him, to speak with him.

"They are," the spirit said, devoid of emotion. "My shadow-self would like to be sure I hold true to my word. When you arrive at your destinations, you'll see I've done all I could do to help."

Rhen nodded, looking as though he wanted to say more.

But he shook his head, stepping back, stepping away, and watched her intently. And though he was looking into the spirit's eyes, Jinji knew he was seeing her instead. His gaze pierced through the spirit's control and touched her soul, warming her with his love. So rather than fill these last few moments with bitterness, Jinji drank Rhen in and let tenderness fill her heart. She would miss running her hands through his vibrant red hair, would miss the way his forest eyes penetrated her, making her every nerve spark to life. But mostly, she would miss the way he looked at her as he did right now, as though she were everything in his world, as though her presence made life brighter, as though her kiss could heal any wound, as though she was the strongest person in the world.

She wanted to hold him one last time.

To kiss him one last time.

She wanted to whisper goodbye. To tell him she loved him and that she forgave him. To relieve the guilt she knew would fill his heart when he realized the spirit's betrayal. The last thing she wanted was for Rhen to think she left this world hating him when all she'd done since the day they met was fall more and more in love.

But Jinji could do none of those things.

While she fought to move just one finger, to lift it even an inch in his direction, to prove to Rhen in some way she was there, and she would miss him desperately, the spirit turned, removing him from sight. She swatted Jinji's attempts to resist back down as though she were a petulant child and walked away without glancing back.

Why did you make him do that? Jinji yelled.

The spirit ignored her. With the wave of her hand, she wielded the powers that Jinji had taken for granted these past few days. Never before had she felt so hopeless, so helpless, so trapped. In the blink of an eye, a giant bird appeared, and the spirit climbed onto its back, taking off into the clouds. Jinji pushed with all of her strength, aching for the spirit to just turn her head, to look down at the beach once more, to give her one last glance of Rhen.

The spirit didn't.

Tell me why! Jinji tried again. Words were the only weapon she had left.

"Because," the spirit said evenly, "I needed to show you that there is no one left in the world that you can trust. There never was. It will make what's about to come much easier for you to bear."

You failed, Jinji whispered. I still trust him. I still trust other promises as well.

The spirit barked a laugh, letting her face fall into the soft feathers of the eagle soaring beneath them, drunk with her position of power. "My shadow-self? Don't tell me he fooled you?"

Jinji tried to hide the anxiety building within her mind, the fear that maybe the spirit and the shadow had fooled them all, had played Rhen and her against each other for their own sick amusement, had been working together the entire time. She shoved the doubts back down, holding on to her courage, infusing that optimism into her voice.

The shadow and I have a deal, Jinji said, surprising herself with her confidence.

"Oh, I know all about this deal," the spirit retorted, spitting that last word as though it were vile. "There is one problem with your deal—it relies on my actions. My shadow-self waits for me to betray him, and you are just his safeguard. But I'm not plotting to betray him, not this time. So you see, Jinji, there is no way out for you. I wish things could have been better, could have been different. I've enjoyed many lifetimes in this world, but this one is the exception. I have never been so happy to leave my spirit realm as I am now. I'm ready. There will be no escape for you."

Jinji didn't know if her soul could tremble, but she felt as though she did. Shivers worked their way across her mind, foreboding and dreadful.

The spirit was just lying.

This was another ploy, another plot.

The shadow was right—Jinji couldn't believe a word the spirit said.

She would not let doubt overcome her. The shadow had promised he would keep Janu alive, that he would keep them both alive. She had to have faith in that promise, it was the only hope left to cling to.

Where are we traveling? Jinji asked, changing the subject, soothing her mind.

"Can you not guess?"

Jinji glanced through her open eyes, watching the world as though it were a reflection on the water, shimmering in and out of reach, not quite real. Below the clouds stretched an endless expanse of turquoise-blue, broken only by the occasional pearly crest of a splashing wave. And in the distance, Jinji could already see those ivory peaks poking through the clouds. They were traveling fast, speed enhanced by the pressure of the wind against their backs.

The Gates, she murmured.

"It will end at the place where it all began."

Jinji didn't know what to say after that. All she could do was look ahead, peer through the window her eyes provided, and watch the mountains grow larger. Straining her senses, she yearned to feel the wind on her cheeks, to smell the salty air, to live. Every so often, the coolness of the breeze touched her, but she missed the way it whipped her short ebony hair, brought excited tears to her eyes and a shot of adrenaline to her heart.

The thought froze her soul.

Jinji would never feel that way again. She would never again run through the forest, letting the dirt soften beneath her feet. She would never again dive deep into the ocean, sensing the water close over and cocoon her. The night would never again be filled with stars. The warmth of the sun would never again seep into her skin. The spirits were far out of reach. She would never weave her magic again, would never wrap the elements around her, would never feel the mother spirit dance with her soul once more.

Rhen, she knew she would miss.

Janu, she knew she would miss.

But Jinji had never before thought of the world as a person, as a loved one she didn’t want to let go. But it was.

All too soon, they landed in the courtyard at the top of the Gates. At its pearly center, the shadow already waited, watching them curiously. Jinji noticed a bird by his side, undoubtedly woven by the spirit at a time when Jinji wasn't aware. How long had they been speaking? How long had they been plotting this together? How long had the spirit been lying to her?

Ignoring Jinji's questions, the spirit slid from her bird's back, making both animals disappear with the wave of her hand. And then she paused, facing the shadow from a distance.

"Hello," she said softly.

He grinned. "You did it. I'm impressed. I wasn't sure if you would be able to take control."

"Whatever you told her last night must have worked," the spirit murmured, shrugging. And Jinji suddenly realized something, something that shocked her.

The shadow doesn't know, she mocked. He doesn’t know that you had to use Rhen to get to me, that the only reason you have control is because of some poison you gave me. He thinks you were actually strong enough to do it yourself. Or does he?

Be quiet, the spirit sneered silently.

Jinji snorted. You never were.

"All I told her was the truth," the shadow said. "You know I don’t deal in lies. That is your game, not mine. And right now, my phantoms are gathering beneath this earth, preparing to rise, preparing for destruction should you back out of our arrangement at the last minute."

The spirit shook her head, denying the accusation. "I assure you, my days of tricks are over. I'm ready."

Jinji searched for a sign beneath those words—a tremor, an increase in their heartbeat, a flash of heat across their skin. Nothing came. The words were truth as far as she could tell. But still, Jinji didn't believe it. The shadow didn't either. He raised his brows pointedly, but said nothing, turning with a shrug. He walked to the rail, gazing out at the brilliant sea stretched out beneath them. The spirit followed, coming to a stop by his side.

"I've always enjoyed this view," the shadow commented.

The spirit placed her hand above his on the rail. "That's because it reminds you of home."

The shadow looked at the spirit, brown eyes softer than Jinji had ever seen them. It was a look Janu would have given her, so full of love, so full of affection. "Can we go there?"

The spirit nodded, turning to face him fully.

In each of their hands a dagger appeared. Plain iron. Long and sharp. Bright from the reflection of the blazing sun.

Jinji tensed.

No!

But the spirit ignored her.

No!

Jinji pounded her invisible fists, but the barrier locking her in didn't budge. The wall was solid, immobile. She shoved it with all of her might, until the entire length of her soul hurt from the pressure.

Rhen! she called, trying to reach him.

Rhen!

It worked last time, it worked once before. He would find her. He would save her.

Rhen!

But no response came. Jinji couldn't feel him. Couldn't feel the dragons. The elemental spirits were out of reach. The world and everything in it was out of reach.

The shadow and the spirit stepped closer together, each raising their hands and placing the point of their dagger against the other's heart. Jinji continued to fight, to scream, to stretch her soul around the entire length of her body, searching for a spot of weakness, a way to regain control. Nothing worked. Nothing changed.

"You promise to remove your gateway to this world?" the shadow asked darkly, eyes flickering with mistrust. "You will let the dragons do what they were created to do, maintain the balance of your world, and you will interfere no longer? You will never leave me again?"

"I promise," the spirit said, confident and without hesitation.

Lies! Jinji shouted. But her words held none of that same confidence, and the spirit didn't bother to respond to the accusation. She knew there was no need. She was in complete control. And in a matter of moments, she wouldn't be connected to Jinji any longer.

"And you will promise to keep your phantoms from this world from this moment on?" the spirit asked. "You will bring the souls from your realm as you were meant to do, bringing death and bringing new life in the way you were created for? You will help maintain the peace of my realm and will never again try to destroy it?"

The shadow nodded. "I promise."

"On the count of three?" the spirit questioned. Her heart felt pure. Her words felt untainted.

No! Jinji screamed.

The sight of a blade against Janu's skin made hers crawl. The spirit had to betray the shadow—she had to. Jinji needed her opportunity to save Janu. The shadow had promised to give Jinji the chance to let her brother live, he'd promised.

We had a deal! she shouted.

But the shadow didn't hear. He just nodded his agreement to the spirit, not acknowledging the deal he had made with Jinji—not acknowledging Jinji's existence at all.

"One," the spirit said.

"Two," the shadow confirmed.

Their eyes met.

In that moment, Jinji knew the spirit wasn't lying. She wasn't going to betray the shadow, not this time. And without that betrayal, the shadow had no obligation to follow through on his deal to keep Janu alive. To keep her alive.

The battle was over.

Let me see him, Jinji whimpered in the silence.

She was done. She was exhausted. There was no fight left in her. If this was the end, she would accept it. If this was how the world had to be saved, Jinji could pass on knowing her death made a difference. But she wanted to see her brother. She wanted to say goodbye. She wanted one more moment of life before it was stolen from her.

Please, let me look into his eyes one last time.

"I'll see you in the ether," the spirit murmured to the shadow, ignoring Jinji's plea. She pushed her hands forward, bringing a bead of blood to the center of Janu's chest.

"I'll see you at home." The shadow pressed the blade into Jinji's skin. Distantly, she felt the prick of the metal, the pierce of pain.

They paused.

And then together they said, "Three."

20

RHEN

~ RAYFORT ~

Rhen circled the city of Rayfort, soaring on Firestorm's back, fighting the sense of déjà vu threatening to overwhelm his system. In his eyes, he saw flames. In his heart, he felt the pain of all of those he once burned. His fists clenched at the memory, at the promise he'd made. To save them all. To save the world.

And he'd done it.

Right now, the spirit was meeting with the shadow. They were carrying out their compromise. The world would soon be at peace once again.

So why was his chest hollow?

Why was his soul broken?

Why did it feel as though he had nothing left to fight for?

Rhen blinked, clearing his thoughts, pushing the doubts away as he brought Firestorm lower, closing in on the front gate and searching for a fellow man with red hair whom he desperately wanted to see again.

Whyllem.

There he was. At the front of his guards with a crown on his head, eyes wide at the scene before him. The dragon landed. Rhen slipped from his back, sending Firestorm into the sky, and turned to his brother instead.

"Rhen," Whyllem said, words full of relief. "What in the gods is going on?"

He followed his brother's eyes to the open fields outside of Rayfort, to the hundreds of immobile bodies standing as still as statues waiting for the enemy to come. He understood the horror filling Whyllem's gaze, filling the gazes of all the guards around him. He understood their revulsion.

But to Rhen, those empty shells of bodies represented hope. The spirit had told him the truth. She had done what she could—woven bodies to help capture the phantoms, to hold them off for as long as possible until the compromise was met. And if she had told the truth about that, she must have told the truth about everything else as well. Why lie? There was no reason.

"The phantoms are coming," Rhen said solemnly and then pointed to the field. "Those are our only defense against them."

Whyllem narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "I don't understand."

Rhen sighed. "There is too much to explain in the time we have left. The phantoms will be here any moment, I'm sure of it. All you must know is that when they arrive, they will get sucked into those bodies below, and in that form you can kill them. Send word across the wall, fight to kill—but not to maim. Those men out there, they will come to life again and again, as long as their bodies have form, the phantoms will reanimate them. But we want that to happen. Because the longer they are trapped in those empty shells, the longer it will take for the darkness to descend upon us."

Whyllem nodded. He had learned not to question Rhen, at least not about matters like this. Within minutes, the whisper rose to a murmur as word spread to the left and right, commands shooting across the wall. Heads turned upward to watch Firestorm cast a blaze wherever he flew. The people of Rayfort knew their prince was there, knew their Lord of Fire had come to save them once more, and they had hope at the sight of those flames.

Whyllem watched too. But on his lips was a frown instead. "Where are the other riders? Lady Jinji?" he asked, turning to his brother. "I told you if the time came again to choose between us and your soul, to choose yourself. I don't want the destruction of another brother on my conscience. I would rather die than have you sacrifice yourself for me, for us."

Rhen placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder, squeezing affectionately, more thankful for those understanding words than Whyllem would probably ever realize. "They are by their families' sides as well," Rhen said, voice full of confidence, not at all torn. He was where he was supposed to be, they all were, and they had made that choice together. "This is what our dragons were made for, to fight this foe. And this is what the riders were made for, to do whatever is necessary to save the world."

Just as Rhen finished speaking, a collective gasp filled the air.

He turned quickly.

It didn't take long to notice the ebony film gathering on the horizon.

"They're here," he murmured darkly.

Whyllem's fist closed around the hilt of his sword.

"Get me a bow," Rhen ordered, speaking to the guard to his left. The man ran off in a hurry. Firestorm roared into the sky, blasting an inferno into the air, catching his rider's attention. Rhen glanced up, finding his dragon's eyes.

The truth was he would rather be up there, he would rather be flying, be blazing. But right now, he was needed on the ground. Right now, it was not the time for fire. In one swoop, he and Firestorm could wash the grounds before them in a sea of smoldering flames, burning the bodies to a crisp as soon as the phantoms were trapped inside. But today, Jinji was not by his side to create more. The bodies the spirit had woven were all he had, and he had to do whatever was necessary to preserve them.

Firestorm understood.

But he didn't like it—which was why Rhen watched with a small grin on his lips as his dragon flew into the gathering mist, separating it with a blast of hot fire, letting the phantoms know he was there waiting for any opportunity that might come his way. But as the darkness continued its unrelenting approach, Rhen tightened his fist around the body of an arrow, testing the strings of his bow. He would rather hold the hilt of a sword, but he wanted this to be a game of distance for as long as possible. If it came to swords, it came too close.

The men watched him, switching their gaze from the expanding black cloud on the horizon to the firm set of his jaw, back and forth and back and forth, waiting for a command. It was an unspoken understanding—Rhen was the leader now. Rhen was the one whom they trusted to keep them safe, to understand what it took to defeat an evil they never thought they would see outside of their nightmares.

He lifted his hand, waiting for the perfect moment to drop it.

The blueness of the sky was beginning to disappear behind the ebony film. The ghosts billowed closer, as though blown toward Rayfort on an invisible breeze. Thin tendrils stretched out, and Rhen held his breath.

Just a little closer, he thought, eyes intent.

The bodies at the far edge began to move, to twitch with life as the smoky tendrils touched them and disappeared within. The mist separated into individual circles, shapeless men that floated across the fields. The ghostly army spread wide as each phantom searched for a body of his own. Through it all, Rhen waited, watching the dead come to life before him. They were clumsy, awkward in their movements, and had they been alive, they would be no match for the armies of Rayfort. But they weren't alive—everything about them was wrong, was unnatural, and made his skin crawl. Fear tightened the air of the wall, but not a single guard spoke, not a single knight ran. Dread was there, but courage was too. When nearly every body on the field thrummed with stolen life, Rhen dropped his hand.

Without hesitation, a volley of arrows soared.

The battle had begun.

Rhen released the string of his bow, listening to it vibrate with liberated tension as his arrow flew. The metal head landed squarely in the chest of an enemy soldier below. The man went down. From a distance, Rhen watched his eyes clear and held his breath. But a moment later, the man rose again with the arrow protruding from his chest and took a step forward. A shiver raced up Rhen's spine, making him twitch. But he fired, sinking another arrow into the man's flesh. Darkness swarmed over the fallen man as soon as he touched the ground, and the mist disappeared inside his body. Despite the blood dripping down the center of his breastplate, he rose again with unnatural life filling his eyes.

Gasps and cries filled the air.

All around him, the protectors of Rayfort watched corpses return to life over and over and over again. Arrows flew. They landed true. But they did little to slow the approach.

Every second, the enemy came closer.

Every second, the scene grew more and more gruesome.

The dead were descending, and the living were powerless to stop them. It was worse than anything Rhen had ever witnessed before—worse than the vision Firestorm had sent him of the battle long ago, worse than the massacre that occurred in the city of Brython, worse than the battle outside of Roninhythe. With perfect clarity, Rhen realized that everything he previously experienced had been a mere glimpse of the shadow's real strength—just enough to scare them, to taunt them. But this was something else entirely. The shadow was using his full force, and if the spirit did not finalize her compromise with him soon, there was no doubt in Rhen's mind that the world would be destroyed.

"Stay strong!" he yelled, sensing the changing tide of despair. Firestorm flew close to the wall, setting a blaze above the battlefield, hoping to instill faith. He torched the mist and forced the phantoms to swerve and bend around his fire, but without Jinji and without the other dragons, there wasn't much he could do.

The undead reached the city gate.

The guards dropped rocks on their heads, bashing in their skulls. But every time one man fell, another stepped over him to press against the door, ramming his weight into the metal and wood, trying to force it open. Brains oozing out, the phantoms crept forward. They could sense the souls of the living, and the only thing filling their minds was an uninhibited need to rejoin the world. The shadow had abandoned his control of them, Rhen realized, he wasn't holding them back as he had before, wasn't trying to stop them. The phantoms fought to taste the thrill of life once more, to be surrounded by it, to steal it no matter the cost of their theft—and the shadow let them.

The mist pulsed as more phantoms oozed free from the soil of the earth.

There weren't enough empty bodies to fill.

There never would be.

Smoke slipped over the edge of the wall.

A guard in front of Rhen fell, twitching on the ground, seizing and foaming from the mouth as a phantom sank within him, trying to steal the place of his soul. He would be dead soon. And in Brython, that would have been the end of it. But not now, not this time, with the shadow unleashing his full fury. Another phantom would soon reanimate the corpse, and the fight would continue. There was no way to stop it.

"Retreat!" Rhen shouted.

But as the word left his lips, the gates beneath him burst inward. The undead swarmed through, filling the streets of Rayfort.

The wall was compromised.

The city was compromised.

There was nowhere to go.

Refusing to give up, Rhen grabbed the hilt of his sword. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but the time had come. He ran down from the wall, slashing at the writhing, bloody bodies of the living corpses pouring into his beloved city.

They had no weapons.

They were defenseless, and yet, no matter what Rhen did to stop them, they kept coming. Limbs fell to the street, so they walked without hands, without feet, crawling as far as they could go, as long as they could go. The guards were beginning to fall. The darkness was descending, sinking into the streets, and following the path the undead created. The defenders of Rayfort were becoming the enemy, bodies consumed by floating death at the moment of their soul's parting.

But Rhen refused to give up hope.

The compromise.

The spirit had promised she was going to save them, that she and the shadow had made a deal, that the fight would end. If he could just hold out a little bit longer, peace was coming. The spirit promised peace would be here.

What if she lied?

The thought came quick. And once there, no matter how hard Rhen tried to push it to the back of his mind, the doubt wouldn't disappear.

What if the spirit had abandoned them? What if there never was a deal with the shadow? What if she wanted to let the world crumble?

What if everything she had said was a lie?

Jin.

Rhen stopped.

What if she had lied about Jinji? What if the woman he loved was in danger? What if Rhen was responsible for putting her at death's door?

His mouth went dry.

His heart stopped.

His eyes grew wide.

Rhen reached into the back of his mind, searching for her presence. He felt Leena and Tempest. He felt Bran and the earth dragon. He felt Jasper and the air dragon. All of them were fighting, distracted, at war.

But the spirit was nowhere.

There was a void where her presence used to be.

Pure fear struck his heart.

"Firestorm!" Rhen shouted then swung his sword as bleeding hands grabbed for his neck. The blade sliced deep into the man's already gashed stomach. He pushed with his foot, jerking his sword free, spinning quickly to ward off another foe. His eyes found Whyllem's red hair in the crowd, relief flooding his veins when he saw that his brother still wielded his weapon deftly, still fought with the vigor of life.

Their eyes met through the chaos.

Distracted, Rhen failed to notice a hand reach for his shirt, jerking him back. He fell, landing hard on his backside while he whipped the blade around, catching his attacker in the leg. The man didn’t even register the pain. He fell on top of Rhen, clasping his fingers around Rhen's throat, trying to steal the life from his body. Eyes bulging as his air ran thin, Rhen noticed a silver glint at the man's back. The hilt of a knife driven deep into his body, evidence of a previous kill. Rhen dropped his cumbersome sword, unable to use it from the ground. He reached up with his free hand, pulled the knife free, and drove it into the undead man's gut. Blood gushed from the wound. The hands around his neck released, and Rhen shoved the man away, not turning around to wait for unnatural life to flood his gaze once more.

"Rhen," Whyllem called, closing in. "I saw you go down."

They had a momentary reprieve from the fight, a second to breathe and find relief that they were both alive. Then Rhen grabbed his sword from the ground and turned to the sky. Firestorm circled, waiting for his rider's signal.

"I must go," Rhen told Whyllem, turning back to his brother. "Something is wrong. I can sense it. Jinji needs me. The plan is falling apart around us."

"Go." Whyllem nodded.

Rhen grabbed his brother's arm. "Stay safe, Whyllem. Don't let the mist touch you. Not even for a second. If it comes to it, use the tunnels beneath the castle to escape with our family. Don't be ashamed to run away, there is nothing that will stop these phantoms, not if the plan has failed."

And then a new undead enemy attacked, coming between them. Whyllem twisted his sword, cutting into the man's thigh. And Rhen slipped away, running through the madness, searching for an open spot where Firestorm could retrieve him. As soon as he reached an empty street, his dragon was already landing on the cobblestones. In less than a second, Rhen had leaped onto his back and they were flying.

"Do you sense her?" Rhen asked.

But Firestorm didn't answer.

He was afraid to.

Rhen leaned against his blazing neck, breathing in the flames, calming himself in the warmth of those charcoal scales.

"Where is she?"

But Firestorm was just as lost as Rhen, just as in pain. Both of them wandered without a tether to bring them home, searching for a connection that was impossible to find.

"Go to the Gates," Rhen whispered, throat tight. It was the only place he could think of, the only hope he had left.

Jinji was okay.

She had to be.

Otherwise, Rhen wouldn't survive. He couldn’t. Not without her.

Trying to shake his fear, Rhen reached out through the spirit connection, searching for Jinji within the magic. He sensed the other three riders, sensed a desperation and exhaustion that matched his own. But he couldn't sense Jinji. He couldn't sense the spirit either.

I'm worrying over nothing, he tried to reason, tried to control his surging horror. Maybe the spirit had closed the connection so she could speak to the shadow in private. Maybe the compromise was just finishing. Maybe the phantoms were disappearing at this very moment, already gone from the city he had left behind.

But they weren't.

In his gut, Rhen knew.

The dread mounting beneath his skin couldn't be denied.

As they approached the Gates, it only strengthened.

When they soared over those towering ivory peaks, catching their first glimpse of the scene below, his heart shuddered to an immediate halt.

Firestorm landed softly.

Rhen slid from the dragon's back, lifeless, and stopped dead in his tracks. Surrounded by the flames billowing from his dragon's skin, Rhen was frozen. His veins were ice. His skin was cold. A frost filled his chest, burying his soul in snow.

His strength gave out.

He fell to his knees, landing in the pool of brilliant red blood surrounding Jinji and Janu's ashen bodies.

Rhen screamed, a guttural noise that ripped free of his throat, tearing his entire torso down the middle as the sound broke its way free. Firestorm roared his rage. The sound echoed, surrounding them both, and then silence. Deafening.

Heat flooded Rhen.

"No! No! No!" he repeated over and over.

Tearing the knife free from Jinji's chest, he held his hands over the wound. His fingers stained red quicker than he believed possible as the blood continued to flow. Unsure what to do, he caressed her beautiful face, shaking as her golden tanned skin grew more and more gray. The blood on his hands stained her cheeks, making her deathly pallor even starker.

"Jin," he cried, pressing his lips to hers, shuddering against her ice-cold mouth. "I love you," he said, as though the words themselves could bring her back to life. "You can't leave me."

His tears landed on her face, washing the blood away, drawing lines across her skin. Rhen wrapped Jinji in his arms, gathering her limp limbs, uncaring as his red robes of Whylkin turned gruesomely maroon. He hugged her close, leaning over her, unable to find the strength to let her go. They shook together as sobs racked his frame, each one stronger than the last.

Rhen was a broken man.

His will to live died with her.

And as his soul shattered into pieces, a confession he couldn't deny burned the back of his throat.

"I did this," Rhen whispered, gasping for breath, unable to find it. The last shred of his strength unraveled. "I did this."

21

JINJI

~ THE SHADOW REALM ~

Jinji blinked in the soft light of the morning sun, opening her eyes slowly. A dream tugged at the far end of her mind, luring her back to sleep, urging she remain in bed a little while longer. But the images that had seemed so vivid moments ago began to dissipate at the first glance of day. Night was gone. The time for dreaming had passed.

The tan hides of the hut around her billowed softly in the breeze. Green leaves and blue sky were visible through the smoke hole at the top of the hut. Her eyes searched, and for some reason, her heart filled with so much love it nearly burst as her gaze landed on her parents. The same as every other day, yet this day it felt so incredibly different. Overwhelming. And she had no idea why.

"Are you awake?" Janu whispered.

Jinji spun upon hearing his voice, turning to her twin who rested on the other side of their shared pallet. She nodded, signaling for quiet.

"It's the morning of my joining." Janu shrugged, voice growing louder as a hint of mischief filled his eyes. Then he breathed deeply, screaming, "I can be as loud as I want!"

"Aye!" Their father shot up, eyes wide. Then he turned on his son, glaring disapproval. Jinji giggled, covering her mouth. Janu smiled too innocently. "You are turning into a man today, becoming the future leader of this tribe. It is time to start acting responsibly."

"Shh," their mother hushed, reaching up blindly to find their father's shoulder and pat it gently. "Take your son on his hunt. Find him a good offering that will bring good fortune to his joining. The lessons can wait for tomorrow."

Jinji grinned, amazed at the way their mother always took control of any situation—especially now, having not even opened her eyes to peek at the light of day. Already their father hunched his shoulders, softening his stance, and nodded gently toward Janu.

"Son?"

Janu jumped from the pallet, eagerly reaching for his bow and the set of arrows Jinji had prepared for him these past few weeks, a present for her dear brother on the joyous day of his joining. Within minutes, the men had disappeared.

"Are they gone?" her mother whispered, sounding far more awake.

Jinji giggled, shaking her head. "Yes."

Her mother shot up, eyes twinkling, reminding Jinji so much of her brother. "Then we have no time to waste."

Now it was Jinji's turn to jump from the pallet and join her mother. Together, they lifted the wooden frame. Resting underneath her bed, loosely wrapped in tan hides, was the dress her dear friend would wear on the day of her joining to Janu. Jinji and her mother had been working on it for weeks, making sure the hides bleached to perfect white, stringing dried berries of every color into the fringe lining the edges, sewing red and green and yellow patterns around every inch of the garment. The ancient symbols were a sign of good luck and good fortune, a promise that the newly joined couple would lead the tribe into a better future.

"I found these just yesterday," Jinji whispered, reaching into the satchel hanging next to her bed.

Her mother gasped.

They were deep brown hawk feathers, and when they caught the sun, they shimmered like the surface of the river on a hot day, reflecting rainbows. Together, she and her mother stitched them into loose sleeves, the perfect finishing touch for the most important dress her best friend would ever wear.

"I think we're done," her mother said, brown eyes shining proudly at her daughter.

Jinji gripped her mother's fingers and squeezed them tightly, unsure why tears were brimming in her eyes. The beat of her heart raced, and her throat dried. This was not the first time her mother had been proud of her, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but for some reason, Jinji was overcome by the words, undone by them, as though she had been waiting a lifetime for such affection.

"No time for that," her mother whispered, reaching out to wipe away the tears. "Everyone will be waiting."

Jinji nodded, knowing they were late. And together, she and her mother left their home, walking the short distance to the hut the rest of the tribe shared. The elders were already circling her friend, pulling at her hair and pressing scented waters to the bare skin of her arms.

"Jinji!" a voice called from the center of the group.

She smiled, excitement building beneath her skin, and shouted back, "Leoa!"

Her best friend broke free of the nagging tribeswomen, leaving the elders behind as she threw herself into Jinji's arms. And even though Jinji was the smaller of the two, she caught Leoa, hugging her tight.

A sob rose up her throat, surprising her.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Tremors shook her limbs—tremors of relief, of something she couldn't quite identify.

"Jinji?" Leoa asked, leaning back with a teasing smile on her lips. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know," Jinji said, laughing at herself as she wiped the water from her cheeks and shook her head. "I'm just so happy for you I guess. We're going to be sisters!"

"We always have been," Leoa said, reaching for her hands.

But Jinji shook her head, signaling behind to where her mother stood, holding out the dress. Before she even had a chance to explain the gift, Leoa was shrieking.

"It's so beautiful!" she cried, grabbing Jinji's hands. They twirled around for a moment, and then Leoa released Jinji's hands, jumping up and down on her own, flitting her way to the dress. She held it at arm's length, marveling at all of the detail, then hugged it tightly against her chest with a sigh, before holding it out for everyone else to see. The elders gushed, congratulating Jinji and her mother on their work, running their fingers over the stitching and admiring the feathers.

Jinji nodded silently, biting her lip, embarrassed with the compliments. But the quieter Jinji became, the louder Leoa did, bringing the attention back to her. Jinji grinned at her friend in thanks, always the more silent of the two. But it worked for them—Leoa was the loud and crazy one, Jinji was the soft and strong one.

While everyone watched, Leoa slipped into the dress, bringing more nods of approval. And then everyone sat around her in a circle, joining hands, humming silent prayers for the spirits. Leoa's mother stood behind her daughter, gently running her fingers through her long ebony hair. And Jinji sat in front, holding both of her friend's hands, grinning from ear to ear.

It was time to get her braid.

Leoa's fingers shook nervously, and Jinji gripped them tightly. They giggled together, still sounding like young girls, not the women they were becoming. But her friend grew silent as her hair was divided into three strong and sturdy strands. Leoa licked her lips. Jinji had never seen her so afraid.

"Janu is going to stop breathing when he sees you," she whispered low enough that no one else could hear.

Leoa looked at her gratefully, cheeks blushing pink. "Do you really think so?"

Jinji smiled. "I do."

"Taikeno," Leoa's mother said loudly, holding out one third of her daughter's hair and showing it to the group.

"For your joined," everyone replied in unison.

Leoa breathed deeply. Jinji watched her eyes fill up with joy. She had never seen her friend look so happy.

"Ka'shasten," Leoa's mother announced, holding out the middle section.

"For your children," everyone answered.

"Arpapajona," she said next, displaying the final grouping.

"For your people," they all whispered.

Jinji held Leoa's hands tightly as the elders began repeating those three words, a chant to the spirits to keep Leoa safe, to bless her joining, to grant her healthy children, and to help her watch over the tribe when it became her turn to lead. Leoa's mother continued the braid, weaving her daughter's ebony locks into a strong hold that signified so much more than just a hairstyle.

Taikeno.

Ka'shasten.

Arpapajona.

As Jinji said the words over and over again, a heavy feeling settled in her chest. Was she jealous? Was she sad? An odd torrent of emotions washed over her as the ancient words filled the air, raining down upon her. Her own hair was long, tumbling freely down her back. But for a second, the ghost of a breeze swept across her neck, making her shiver, as though all her beautiful curls had been cut free, as though she were in desperate mourning.

Taikeno.

The word made her wince.

My love. My life.

Why did it feel as though she had said those words before? As though she had meant them?

Taikeno.

Ka'shasten.

Arpapajona.

Jinji closed her eyes, shaking just slightly, trying to dispel her darkening thoughts. And then she opened, jerking away as her gaze met Leoa's, and a vision crossed over her eyes—a memory that never was. For a moment, she saw her best friend splayed out below her, blood seeping from an open wound as an arrow protruded from her chest. For a moment, she saw her best friend's honey irises closing with a vacant expression. For a moment, she saw her best friend dead.

Jinji screamed.

Everyone stopped.

Leoa watched her worriedly.

Jinji closed her eyes, but in the darkness, all she saw was the image of these walls splashed in blood and countless throats slashed in sleep, countless bodies leaking life and dying.

Her eyes shot open.

Jinji ran.

Air. She needed fresh air. Nightmares were washing over her. She couldn't breathe. She ran from the hut, shaking violently as a chill shot down her limbs, so cold even the sun provided no warmth.

"Jinji?" a voice called.

She spun. "Maniuk!" She sighed.

He walked over, grabbing her by the upper arms, watching closely, affection evident in his gaze. "What's going on? Is everyone okay? We heard you scream."

"Yes," she admitted, feeling insane now that she was out beneath the open, cloudless sky. What could be wrong about a day that was so beautiful? Jinji looked up, preparing herself to meet the warm brown eyes of her betrothed.

She gasped.

His eyes were green. They were on fire. They blazed with the heat of the sun, watching her with more love than she had ever felt in her entire life. They were alive with a burning desire she had never seen before.

Maniuk blinked.

The image vanished.

Jinji released a hot breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"Are you sure?" Maniuk whispered.

Jinji nodded. But when she looked away, a new vision took hold—one of Maniuk with a knife to his throat. Of him watching her with malicious ivory eyes.

"Jinji," he said again.

She jerked free of his arms, backing away.

"Jinji?" Janu's voice called.

She spun, but the brother she saw before her was not the one she remembered. He was thin and frail. His eyes were haunted and hooded. The life had disappeared from his soul. The will to discover what the future held had vanished.

"Jinji," he said again, soothingly. But this time it was not his voice that spoke, it was someone else, someone who sounded familiar, someone whom she had somehow been expecting.

"Jinji," he called again, as though from a very far distance, as though he wasn't standing right in front of her, holding out his hand, waiting for her to take it.

She didn't.

Janu closed the gap, grasping her fingers.

Instantly, the world around her began to fade. Colors dropped away like leaves from a tree, blowing in the wind, landing somewhere out of sight. Twilight descended. Jinji watched with a surreal fascination, mind already in another world as memories from a different life filled her thoughts, overwhelmed her.

"Jinji," a voice said again.

She was surrounded by black, washed away in a sea of ebony with no end in sight. Eyes open or closed, there was no difference. There were no shapes, no colors, no hints of anything but never-ending darkness. And yet, the place didn't feel empty—it felt full. The air was charged with life. And the scene provided her with comfort, not fear. Because she knew where she was now. And she knew exactly whom she spoke to.

"This is your realm?" she asked the shadow, knowing he listened even though she could not see him.

"You are seeing it as no one else ever does. When souls come here, they get to live an alternate life, a better one that I provide for them. You with your family, others with riches, others with a love which life neglected to provide. They live whatever life I wish for them to lead—whatever life will make them happy enough to be at peace in my realm and to forget those they left behind in the world of the living. I told you before, death is not so scary."

"No, it's not," Jinji agreed, mind already back with her tribe, back with Leoa, back with Janu, and her mother and father and everyone else. In the darkness, Jinji shivered, trying to hold on to the warmth of their presence just a little while longer. Her limbs grew cold as she felt their absence anew, missing the dream. Were any of them real? Had her family truly been with her? Were they still with her now?

But before Jinji could ask, the shadow spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm sorry to have pulled you from the happiness you are due, but I made a promise to you and I always hold true to my word. My spirit-self has betrayed me. Has betrayed us all. And now it is time for me to reveal the terms of our bargain."

Jinji inhaled sharply. "How? I'm here, aren't I? I've died. Janu has died as well or we wouldn't be speaking. What could there possibly be left to do?"

"Much," the shadow said gravely. "My spirit-self was supposed to close her portal to the spirit world, to cut her soul off from ever reentering that realm. And though she claims to have done what I asked, I know she is lying. I never expected her to find the strength to do what she was supposed to do thousands of years ago but never has."

"What's that?" Jinji asked.

"Create the final dragon."

Jinji scrunched her brows, unsure if she had a body in this shadow realm but expressing herself just the same. There were four elements. Four dragons. What was missing? And then she realized the obvious truth.

"A spirit dragon," she whispered. "How?"

"My spirit-self and I are two halves of one whole, in perfect balance with each other. I am the internal half—my powers are of the soul. But hers are external, they always have been. You see, I can never be parted from my magic. My magic is me, and I am it. That is why my realm lives within me, in the darkness at the center of my soul. But my spirit-self was made to be parted with her magic. That is why you could wield her powers, but Janu could never wield mine. Her magic is woven into the very fibers of her world, and that is where it was always meant to stay—not within her, but within her world."

"What can I do?"

"My spirit-self has always known her destiny. There were always supposed to be riders and dragons, they were always meant to keep the balance in her realm. That is why there are souls with affinities to the elements—they were created that way. Your soul has been tied to the spirit in every life you've lived. Rhen's has been tied to the fire. And so on. It is how it was written. It was also written that my spirit-self would create dragons for each of the elements. They were meant to hold her powers in one single body, to keep them in check, to contain the magic. Not every soul with an elemental affinity deserves to be powerful in every life. Her realm would be chaos if that were true. So instead, there is only one rider per generation who gets to join with the dragon and touch the magic his soul longs for."

"But there is no spirit dragon, which is why I've been able to draw illusions my whole life, why I've always been connected to the magic."

"Correct," the shadow agreed. "But spirit affinities are much rarer, and every time one was born, my spirit-self used her magic to connect with the soul and steal that life for herself. And I allowed it to happen because what other choice did I have?"

Jinji shuddered. "So my soul has never been free? Each life I've lived, she's been in command?"

"Yes," the shadow said. "But you were always the most difficult for her to control."

"What changed in this life?" Jinji asked. "Why was she absent until that day in Rayfort when I touched you and we fell into the ether together?"

"I changed," the shadow whispered. "I decided I wasn't going to let her leave me any longer. I decided she was finally going to regret breaking her promises to me. I fought her as she tried to connect with you at the moment of birth. I held her soul back. I wouldn’t let her use her magic to complete the merge. Instead, she was divided, half with you in the spirit realm and half in the ether with me. Until the moment you touched me and connected all three of our souls together again, allowing her to complete the bond."

"I don't understand," Jinji murmured, shaking her head as the information sank in, growing more and more confusing. "But you just killed me. You just shoved a knife into my heart. You brought me to your realm."

"Yes," the shadow agreed, "to separate your soul from hers in the event that she betrayed me and would not willingly create the fifth dragon on her own."

The picture was becoming clearer. "You're going to send me back without her knowing."

"Yes," the shadow confirmed.

Jinji's heart swelled.

Immediately, her mind went to Rhen, to those vivid emerald eyes even death couldn't erase from her memories. To their love, to the connection their souls might have been waiting centuries to find. In all of those lives when the spirit controlled her body, had Rhen's soul been alone, unfulfilled, always missing her but never realizing it? Jinji's soul cried out for him with a resounding yes.

"You want me to create the spirit dragon?"

"Yes," the shadow agreed. "Once the spirit dragon has been created, all of my spirit-self's power will be locked within its body. She won't be able to use her spirit magic to overtake any souls like yours ever again. The gateway to her realm will be sealed. She will be able to see her world through the spirit dragon's eyes, to connect with the magic vicariously, but her soul will remain in the ether with me, the way it was always supposed to."

"Why didn't you explain all of this before?" Jinji whispered sadly, thinking of all the hardship that could have been avoided—all the heartbreak, all the death, all the pain.

"Because at first I was mad, and I wanted her to hurt," he said, now utterly calm. "And later, she was constantly listening, and I couldn't risk revealing my plan. My spirit-self has always been more concerned with herself. She has never fully cared to know me. I don't think she's ever realized I can bring a soul back to life at any time, whenever I want. Right now, she thinks she's won. And that's exactly what I needed her to believe. She won't be looking for your soul to make its way back to her realm. So I'll be able to do it without interference."

"And what of Janu?" Jinji asked, remembering the bargain they struck only days ago—the chance to save his life. But now that Jinji had experienced death, she wasn't sure Janu would want to be saved. What if he was dreaming the same thing she had? What if right now he was living through death, experiencing the moments his real life had never given him? Could she take that all away and bring him back to a world that had only provided him with pain?

"That choice is up to you," the shadow murmured gently.

Jinji shook her head. "No, it is up to him. Can you tell him all you have told me? My brother deserves to decide his own fate. We both owe him that. And if he chooses to remain in your realm, please make him forget that everything he dreams is not real. Make him believe life was just a nightmare that has now faded from awareness."

"Done."

Jinji stretched her mind, searching for her family somewhere within the darkness. And for just a moment, her soul felt warm, felt surrounded in their love. "I'm ready."

Sharp claws sank into her soul, grabbing hold.

Jinji remained silent, ignoring the pain.

Together they flew through ebony until the world began to lighten. Bit by bit, the darkness faded. And with each gathering ray of light, Jinji pictured one thing, the only thing keeping her sane as she soared farther and farther away from her family.

Rhen.

Watching over her with love.

22

RHEN

~ THE GATES ~

"I did this," Rhen cried again, voice cracking, hoarse and barely there. His world had faded to shades of red, blurred by the tears in his eyes. He was unable to see anything but the deep maroon staining his arms, the vibrant red pool surrounding them, the crimson still leaking from Jinji's chest. He was drowning in her blood, losing himself within it. And all he could think over and over again was that he was responsible, he had done this. He may as well have wielded the knife himself. He had given Jinji that elixir. He had allowed the spirit to take control over her body. He had removed any chance Jinji had to fight back. The spirit might have tricked him into believing her, but he should have known not to trust the safety of the woman he loved to anyone but himself. Rhen should have known better. The fault was his and his alone.

A glimmer of celebration stirred in the back of his mind.

Faint and very far away.

Rhen reached back, feeling the triumphant cries of joy of three dragons and their riders. Their elation brought no pleasure to his chest. Instead, their happiness stung painfully, a new wound in his already bleeding heart.

It could only mean one thing.

The phantoms were gone.

The shadow had removed his presence from their world.

They had won.

But all those roads led to the same conclusion—Jinji was truly dead. This was no ruse, no ploy to trick the shadow, no illusion woven with her powers. The body he hugged closed to him was really hers. The battle was over, and there was nothing left for him to do but mourn.

Rhen?

For a moment, his heart leaped at the womanly voice.

Then it fell.

It was the princess, reaching through the bond, trying to figure out why he wasn't celebrating with the other riders.

Rhen closed off his mind, slamming the door shut. He wanted to be alone with Jinji, to hold her until all the warmth was gone from her limbs, and even then maybe still not let go. But he knew he couldn't hide forever.

Jasper arrived first, landing softly, gasping quietly over his shoulder.

Bran was second, shaking the ground beneath Rhen, bringing ripples to the ever-expanding pool of blood.

Leena was last.

She screamed when the water dragon crested the top of the Gates. Her cry brought goose bumps to his skin, as though confirming for the first time that the scene before him wasn't an illusion. If Leena saw it too, then it truly must be real.

Rhen looked up, finding her dark umber eyes through his blurred vision. They were filled with despair and horror. She ran to his side, falling next to him and reaching out to hold Jinji's lifeless hand. But all Rhen noticed was the edge of her golden clothes turning ruby.

"What…" She trailed off, unable to find her voice.

Rhen just shook his head.

There were no words to explain.

"Rhen," she murmured, deep voice filled with empathy rarely heard on an Ourthuri tongue.

The sound shredded him.

Destroyed him.

Rhen fell limp over Jinji's body, unable to hold back his sorrow, unable to find any strength. With the three riders watching over him, Rhen was safe to melt away, to let all awareness fade, to give in to the grief overwhelming him. The world was saved. His duty was done. There was nothing left to fight for, so he didn't. He surrendered to his emotions, to the shattering pieces of his heart, and let the hurt come.

Visions of Jinji filled his eyes.

Visions of her alive, of the glow in her eyes.

He wanted so much to hold her again, to kiss her again, to feel her again, that he imagined it were so. His mind tricked him into believing that her heart began to beat. The drumming grew loud in his ear as warmth filtered across her limbs. Rhen shook even more, trying to dispel the illusions his mind played. But they wouldn't go away. He hallucinated that her arms gathered strongly around him, that she held him just as he held her. In his mind, her perfect lips pressed against his skin, piercingly hot.

Part of Rhen wanted to scream for the visions to stop—they only made goodbye more difficult. But part of him wanted to give in to the insanity, to live in the false world his mind was creating, to do anything to have her with him.

"Rhen," her voice whispered softly into his ears.

"Jin," he sobbed, holding her tighter, not caring what the riders might think to hear him call her name. Not caring if they heard him have an entire conversation by himself, if it meant he could pretend to speak to her again. "Forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," she whispered, only confirming for Rhen that she couldn't be real, that this voice existed only in his head.

"I'll find you again," he whispered, voice cracking with the heartfelt promise. "Not even death can keep us apart."

"Rhen, I'm here," she said, sounding louder and louder in his ears. And her voice was edged with joy, with happiness. A hint of humor played on her tongue. "I'm right here."

He stopped.

Breath tickled his neck. Or was that just the wind playing an evil trick on him? But the body on his lap was warm. Did it move? Or did he move it? A soft sigh filtered through his ears. Rhen shook his head, unable to believe his dreams could come true. Frowning, worried this was an illusion woven by his mind, he sat up, unable to deny the resistance of arms embracing his torso—a resistance that felt too real to be false.

He opened his eyes.

Golden glittered irises stared up at him, filled with life.

"Jin," he whispered, unable to believe the sight before him.

But then she reached up, brushing her warm fingers against his cheek, cupping his skin, rubbing it with the edge of her thumb. A smile spread her lips, blindingly brilliant. Her ashen skin flooded with blushing vivacity.

"I'm alive," she said giddily.

"You're alive," he wondered, dumbstruck by the sudden shift of emotions filling his heart. Those words wrapped around him as his eyes roamed the rest of her body. The gaping hole in her chest was sealed shut. No more blood poured from the open wound. All at once, the tension in his body released as the truth sank in.

"You're alive!" he cried, jumping to his feet and taking her with him, holding her close, tight enough to make her gasp as the breath was stolen from her chest. Then he held her away, eyes roaming over every inch of her face. Then he pulled her close again, this time pressing their lips together, kissing her in a way that very much proved her liveliness. Laughter leaked from his lips, a joy that could no longer be contained.

"How? When? Why? How?" he asked, overwhelmed, thoughts jumping from one to the next as he breathed her essence in and let it bubble over him. Jinji watched him joyously but pressed a finger against his lips, calming him, quieting him.

"Later," she whispered, infusing that single word with a lifetime of promises. And then she turned to the other riders, confessing, "There is one more task that needs to be completed before we can put the war fully behind us. There is a fifth dragon, and I need your help bringing her to life."

"Anything," Rhen asserted without hesitation. The others agreed.

Jinji turned on him, pursing her lips just slightly. He didn't like the hesitation in her eyes. "I need you to ride your dragons, and when I say so, focus all of their ferocious fury on me."

"No," Rhen said immediately. "Absolutely not. I just got you back. I'm not—"

"Rhen," she murmured gently, interrupting him. Taking his hands in hers, she held his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere. We've both lied. We've both made mistakes by overprotecting each other, by hiding the full truth. We've both been trying to do everything on our own. And it hasn't worked. Please, trust me."

Rhen swallowed slowly, understanding the earnestness in her gaze.

He nodded once.

He loved her. He had to trust her. There was no other choice.

Jinji smiled widely, beaming up at him for a moment before turning to the others. "Use your full strength. Do not be nervous, and do not hold back." She tilted her head toward the sky. "Go."

Rhen squeezed her fingers. And then, even though it took all of his strength, he dropped them. He walked to Firestorm and mounted the dragon, holding Jinji's gaze as they lifted into the air, hovering above her with the others.

I love you, Jinji whispered across his thoughts, speaking to him through the spirit bond. For a moment, the muscles in his gut clenched tight with worry. But Jinji shook her head slightly, eyes shining with the promise that the words weren't meant as a goodbye. Rhen understood.

I love you, he replied. Not because he was worried or afraid. But because for a short time he had thought he would never be able to say those words to her again, and now that he could, he would, whenever the urge struck.

Jinji's lips widened. The creases of her smile reached all the way to the corners of her eyes. And then she blinked, watching all of her riders.

"Now," she commanded.

Rhen trusted her with all of his heart.

So he ducked against Firestorm's scales and thought, fire.

Flames raged toward the woman he loved. For a moment, her skin shone orange then she vanished beneath the inferno, disappearing from sight. For a second, Firestorm resisted, but Rhen held him strong. He forced the blaze to continue, letting his faith in Jinji fill his heart.

Water, earth, and air met his fire on all sides. The elements merged, exploding against one another, crashing in the center, and dissolving upon contact. They were all equals, no one stronger than the other. And the more they pushed their strength, the brighter the epicenter became. Soon, the point was beaming more intensely than the sun. It pulsed with life, shimmering with a rainbow of colors that all blended to create a pure ivory glow.

Rhen had to look away.

Spots filled his vision.

He looked down toward the mountains, gasping when he noticed they glowed with the same white charge. The Gates were radiant with a light that came from the inside out. The longer Rhen watched, the more luminous they became, until finally, in one single moment, the entire spark went out, vanishing like a candle blown out by the wind.

Stop.

The demand reached them all at the same time.

All four dragons stopped.

It took a moment for their powers to clear, for the blotches to fade from their eyes. Blinking, each rider gasped as one. Rhen's heart stopped. A pearlescent dragon sat in the center of their circle, wings spread protectively, head bent and wrapped around a body on the ground.

Jinji.

Her eyes opened.

They found him.

All the air he held in his chest rushed through his lips. All the fear, all the worry, all the heartbreak, every emotion he had pent up for so long exploded out.

Done.

It was finally done.

And Jinji was still there, was still watching him with love.

The ivory dragon unwound itself, releasing Jinji, no longer needing to protect her. Rhen waited for her to do what he had done when Firestorm had awoken—jump on her dragon's back and join them in the sky. To fly with all of her riders. But Jinji didn't. She looked away. A frown crossed over her lips.

Rhen followed her gaze to Janu, to his motionless body still resting in a pool of blood. Jinji ran to him, falling by his side, and cupped his head in her hands, watching him intently. She looked as though she were waiting—waiting for something that might never come.

23

JINJI

~ NORTHMORE FOREST ~

Weeks had passed since Jinji's reincarnation, weeks of cleaning up after the mess the phantoms had left in their wake, of rebuilding crumbling cities, of reaffirming that the battle was over and won, of reigniting the people's hopes and dreams.

Jinji was exhausted.

The maps of Whylkin had become just as familiar as the lines swooping across the palm of her hand. These roads led to these cities led to these families led to these rivers and these mountains and these forests. She had flown across the Dueling Sea, over the Weeping Mountains, up and under and around, all trying to rebuild the spirit realm that was now hers to watch over. Her small fortress at the Gates teemed with life, just as it had a thousand years ago. Spirit affinities were called upon to learn and train. And with her fingers gently caressing the smooth pearlescent scales on her dragon's back, Jinji knew there was so much more to come, too much. The world was bigger than she had ever imagined, and connected to the spirit dragon, truly at one with all of that magic for the first time, Jinji was starting to understand the scope of the task ahead. But for now, only one thing concerned her.

Jinji hovered in the air, heart beating fast as she looked down over the forest clearing that had once been her home. Before the shadow had killed her family, before Jinji had set fire to their bodies in her grief, this place had once held the last surviving tribe of an ancient culture. But studying it now, that was nearly impossible to believe. The ground was burned and blackened, covered in dirt that seemed stained by gray ash. The once vibrant forest had melted away, leaving ugly charred trunks that jetted harshly into a vacant sky. There were no birds, no animals, and hardly any signs of life.

The land had died.

But Jinji had come back to restore it.

"You're late!" Rhen called.

Jinji grinned, eyes immediately dropping to the two men stepping out from beneath the branches, staring up at her expectantly.

Rhen and Janu.

The two people she loved most in the world.

Healthy. Alive. Smiling at her happily.

For a moment, it was hard for Jinji to believe this wasn't a dream, that she wasn't still in the shadow realm imagining a life that was too good to possibly be real.

But it was.

Already, the memory of cradling Janu's dead and bleeding body filtered up to the forefront of her thoughts. As she held his cold, unmoving arms in her limbs, she had been convinced he would never return to her, that he had chosen to remain in the shadow's realm, content to live within his dreams. And she couldn't blame him. But just when she was about to give up, his fingers twitched, tightening around hers, and his eyes opened.

Janu had chosen life. He had chosen the sometimes harsh realities of the spirit realm over the ignorant bliss of the shadow realm. And Jinji would never forget the sacrifice he had made to be reunited with her.

Without hesitation, she brought the spirit dragon to the ground, landing her bright ivory body starkly in the center of the blackened forest clearing. A riderless Firestorm appeared in the sky a moment later and landed by her side. Janu and Rhen met her in the center of the clearing, pulling an auburn horse stubbornly behind them.

"Ember," Jinji murmured, reaching out her hand. A wet nose pressed against her fingers as Ember sighed into Jinji's palm, accepting the soft brush of her fingers with a contented neigh.

"Sure," Rhen commented, snorting, "she forgives you in a heartbeat. But me, I get a glob of spit in my face. You wouldn't believe how fast she turned her back on me. The whip of her tail almost knocked me over." He shook his head. "Women."

But there was a fire in his eyes that spoke to the humor in his voice—one Jinji matched with a sparkle in her own. "Well, we ladies have to stick together."

Ember stomped, pressing farther into Jinji's embrace.

Janu stepped closer, running his hand down the horse's long ruddy mane. "I think her ire is set fiercely upon Rhen. Ember has been patient with me while I've learned how to ride."

"Yeah, yeah," Rhen remarked, shrugging. "I've been cast aside. Replaced."

Jinji raised her brows. "You did it to Ember first."

Rhen dropped his jaw. "Not by choice!"

To the side, Firestorm lifted his head, blowing a flame through his nostrils as he stared at his rider, annoyed.

"I didn't mean," Rhen sputtered, head looking from one animal to the other, at a loss for words. Then he threw his hands in the air, turning to Jinji instead, changing the subject. "Are you ready?"

She turned to Janu, holding out both of her hands. "Are you?"

Her twin took her palms in his, holding them tight.

Jinji breathed in the charred scent that still seemed to linger even though months had passed since her Arpapajo home had burned down. Closing her eyes, she imagined the way it used to look. The huts, the people, the fire always burning bright in the center of their home, the heart and soul of the tribe. All around, she felt their spirits woven into the life of the land. Their essences still lingered in the elements. And those memories, those remnants of a forgotten world, they deserved to be honored.

Jinji reached out for the magic, still in awe at how different her powers had become. Before, she pulled the spirit from the fibers of the world, able to feel it in everything and everyone. Now those powers all came from a single source, a bottomless well located in her dragon's heart. Through their connection, the magic responded to Jinji's plea, bursting from beneath her dragon's scales and swirling out into the world, weaving with the elements as she commanded.

Jinji wove.

The dragon wove with her.

Two minds connected as one, working together.

Blackened tree stumps disappeared. In their place, towering emerald stalks regrew. The scent of mossy bark filled her lungs as the rustle of new leaves found her ear. And along the ground, replacing the charred charcoal dirt, emerged a field of vibrant flowers. Reds and blues and yellows and oranges. Each color popped brighter against the next, bringing vibrancy back to the place that used to be so utterly full of life.

Janu gasped.

Jinji sighed, content for the first time since she had left this place so many weeks ago. Reaching up with her hand, she ran her fingers over her short, coarsely chopped ebony hair, and wove a long silky braid in its place. There was no more need for mourning. She had her love. She had her brother. She had a home. And eventually she would be with her family in the shadow realm once more.

Rhen walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Jinji leaned back against him, letting her head rest on his chest as her eyes drank in the scene. When she thought of her home, she would no longer think of blood and loss and tears that could have formed a river as they fell. She would think of these flowers. She would think of hope. It was time to let the past fade to a soft, serene memory and to embrace the future, whatever it might be.

"Where will you go now?" Janu asked, voice more choked up than he wanted to admit. Before Jinji could see the water in his eyes, he knelt down, brushing an indigo petal with his fingers.

Jinji closed her eyes, remembering the visions her dragons had shown her. "There are lands at the edges of the world, places we've never heard of, places we never guessed existed. The spirit was gone for so long, the elements slipped from her control, especially in those far away kingdoms so distant from the Gates and the magic core it provided. There are people living among rivers of fire, monstrous ocean waves that flow across the land, storms that blow deep-rooted trees from the ground, mountains that quake and divide the earth. Those people need our help. We must restore the balance. I realize now that's why the spirit broke her promise to the shadow, why she risked so much to return to this realm. Her intentions were pure before they got corrupted by the selfishness located deep within her soul. The spirit realm is falling apart, and I must weave it back together."

"And the riders are going to help," Rhen added, supporting Jinji wholeheartedly.

But Janu still wouldn't meet her gaze. Softly, he asked, "When will you return?"

"Soon," Jinji assured, breaking free of Rhen's hold to reach out to Janu and grasp his shoulders gently.

That small touch was all Janu needed to pull her into a firm hug. "I'll miss you," he whispered fiercely.

Jinji eased back, brows furrowed in concern. Even though she had no choice, she hated to be leaving him so soon. Guilt gnawed at her heart. "What will you do while I'm gone?"

Her twin lifted the corner of his mouth, bringing a wide grin to his lips—one that matched the happy, twinkling glow in his eyes. "Live," he answered simply.

Jinji smiled. The knot in her gut unclenched, and a warm bubbly feeling spread over her because she knew exactly what he meant. For the first time in his life, Janu was free—free to travel, to make mistakes, to try new things, to fall in love, to find himself. He had the chance to live. And that was everything she wanted for him and more.

"Pajora jinjiajanu," Jinji whispered. Be with the spirits. Be safe. Be happy. Be free. Usually the words were spoken in remembrance, as a final prayer for the dead, but Jinji spoke them as a prayer for life, in anticipation of the wonderful things to come.

"Pajora jinjiajanu," he whispered back, voice full of hope and love.

They let go.

Janu stepped back, tugging Ember with him and lifting his hand in parting.

Jinji and Rhen mounted their dragons, sweeping up into the sky in a blaze of red and silver flames, fire and spirit swirling in their wake. Their eyes met through the glow, burning just as bright.

"Where to?" Rhen shouted.

Jinji bit her lip. "The others will be waiting for us at the Gates."

Rhen frowned. She couldn't help but smile at his lackluster response. But a moment later, a devilish gleam filled his eyes, making her heart speed rapidly in her chest.

"Rhen?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down, murmuring something into the fire dragon's ear—something that made her own dragon rumble in agreement. Jinji tried to pierce the bond, to break through the sudden wall the spirit dragon had erected between them, but a moment later, the chance was gone. Just as she was about to open her mouth to demand to be clued in to whatever the three of them were planning, her dragon dove into a deep spiral, then shot up and flipped upside down, throwing Jinji from her back.

Before she could scream, fire licked her cheeks. Jinji landed on Firestorm and Rhen's arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her close. His lips found the soft skin at the base of her neck, kissing her and sending a delicious shiver down her back, one that tingled all the way to her toes.

"Jin?" he whispered gently, breath tickling her ear.

Jinji melted into the heat lacing the edges of his voice, passionate and fueled by fire. "Hmm?"

"Are the others expecting us right now?" he murmured.

Yes, she thought. But Rhen continued tracing kisses over her skin, and when she opened her mouth to respond, a breathy no was all she could reply. Jinji let herself fall under the spell of his touch, a magic stronger than any she'd ever known, and decided that for once, the world could wait—for a little while, at least.

###

Want more A Dance of Dragons?

Don’t miss the novellas, following the story of the mysterious Princess Leenaka!

The first one is free!

From bestselling author Kaitlyn Davis comes a fantasy adventure perfect for fans of Throne of Glass, Graceling, and Game of Thrones.

In the land of Ourthuro, cruelty is a way of life. The king rules with an iron fist and no one dare defy him—no one except his daughter. Princess Leena is keeping a dangerous secret, she has fallen in love with a soldier and it would mean both of their lives if her father ever discovered their affair.

But Leena will risk it all to be with the man she loves—her heart, her life, her freedom. And when her brother's birthday celebration takes a dangerous turn, Leena is forced to make a decision that will change the fate of her nation and eventually the world.

Want more from Kaitlyn?

Don't miss her other series—Once Upon A Curse and Midnight Fire!

Once Upon A Curse is a series of fairy tale retellings all set in the same dystopian universe! Once Upon A Time meets La Femme Nikita in the first book, Gathering Frost, a romantic dystopian reimagining of Sleeping Beauty!

Midnight Fire is a bestselling young adult paranormal romance perfect for fans of The Vampire Diaries, Vampire Academy, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The first book, Ignite, is free!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling author Kaitlyn Davis writes young adult fantasy novels under the name Kaitlyn Davis and contemporary romance novels under the name Kay Marie.

Always blessed with an overactive imagination, Kaitlyn has been writing ever since she picked up her first crayon and is overjoyed to share her work with the world. When she's not daydreaming, typing stories, or getting lost in fictional worlds, Kaitlyn can be found indulging in some puppy videos, watching a little too much television, or spending time with her family.

Connect with the Author Online:

Website:

KaitlynDavisBooks.com

Facebook:

Facebook.com/KaitlynDavisBooks

Twitter:

@DavisKaitlyn

Tumblr:

KaitlynDavisBooks.tumblr.com

Wattpad:

Wattpad.com/KaitlynDavisBooks

Goodreads:

Goodreads.com/author/show/5276341.Kaitlyn_Davis

Table of Contents

- All Works by Kaitlyn Davis
- Dedication
- World Map
- 1. Jinji ~ The Gates
- 2. Rhen ~ The Gates
- 3. Jinji ~ Rayfort
- 4. Rhen ~ Rayfort
- 5. Jinji ~ Rayfort
- 6. Rhen ~ Rayfort
- 7. Jinji ~ Fayfall
- 8. Rhen ~ Fayfall
- 9. Jinji ~ Brython
- 10. Rhen ~ Brython
- 11. Jinji ~ Brython
- 12. Rhen ~ Roninhythe
- 13. Jinji ~ Roninhythe
- 14. Rhen ~ Roninhythe
- 15. Jinji ~ Roninhythe
- 16. Rhen ~ Roninhythe
- 17. Jinji ~ Roninhythe
- 18. Rhen ~ Roninhythe
- 19. Jinji ~ Roninhythe
- 20. Rhen ~ Rayfort
- 21. Jinji ~ The Shadow Realm
- 22. Rhen ~ The Gates
- 23. Jinji ~ Northmore Forest
- The A Dance of Dragons Novellas
- More Books by Kaitlyn Davis
- About The Author