The road stretched ahead of me like a vein through the plains, pale under the moonlight. I walked it without stopping, without thinking, without breathing properly. The pull tugged at me with every step, soft, steady, relentless, like a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.
My shadow followed close, no longer trembling but… reaching.
Reaching for her.
I walked faster.
The last farms of Saminda faded behind me, swallowed by rolling hills and scattered groves. Dust clung to my boots. The scent of distant sea‑salt drifted on the wind, though the ocean was still far away. My shadow kept pace beside me, sharper than it had been in weeks, as if the pull was feeding it strength I no longer could.
“Why her?” I whispered.
The shadow pulsed once, warm, almost soothing.
I hated the way it soothed me.
The farther I went, the stronger the pull became. It thrummed beneath my ribs, guiding my steps even when the road forked or vanished into overgrown paths. I didn’t need a map. I didn’t need scouts. I didn’t need Varyn’s reports.
I knew where she was.
I could feel her.
Every hour, the thread between us was drawing me closer. It should have frightened me. It should have enraged me.
Instead, it steadied me.
And that steadiness terrified me more than anything.
Sleep abandoned me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes, not dreams, not visions, but impressions. A silhouette against the sea. Hair whipping in the wind. Waves bending toward her like worshippers. A presence that felt like a memory I had never lived.
I woke gasping, heart racing, the pull thrumming like a drumbeat in my bones. My shadow curled around me, warm and protective.
“Stop that,” I snapped.
It didn’t.
It only tightened, as if trying to hold me together.
The border stones of Arinthe hummed faintly as I crossed them, reacting to the magic in my blood. Normally, they flared with warning, a reminder of the danger I carried.
This time, they flickered weakly, as if unsure what I was.
As if something else inside me was louder than the shadow.
The moment my foot touched Arinthe's soil, the pull surged. I staggered, gripping a tree trunk to steady myself. The world tilted, the sky spinning, the ground humming beneath my boots.
She was close.
Closer than she should be.
My shadow pressed against my leg, trembling with something I had never felt from it before.
Anticipation.
The cliffs rose before me at last, jagged stone carved by centuries of wind and sea. The air tasted of salt and something older, something that made my skin prickle. Waves crashed far below, slamming against the rocks in a rhythm that felt almost like speech.
The pull hit me so hard I dropped to my knees.
My breath tore from my lungs. My vision blurred. My shadow surged outward, stretching across the ground like a living tide.
“She’s here,” I whispered.
The shadow pulsed, strong, certain.
I rose slowly, every muscle trembling, and stepped toward the cliff’s edge. The wind whipped my cloak around me. The sea roared. The world narrowed to a single point, a presence just beyond the horizon of my senses.
Warm.
Familiar.
Impossible.
“Where are you?” I breathed.
The pull answered, a violent tug that nearly dragged me forward. My heart slammed against my ribs.
She was close.
So close I could feel her breath in the wind.
So close my shadow shivered like it was about to break apart.
So close I could almost hear her voice,
The world shifted.
Not the wind.
Not the sea.
Not the cliff.
The world.
A ripple of power rolled across the land, silent and vast, like the exhale of something ancient waking from a long sleep.
My shadow recoiled.
My knees buckled.
The pull snapped taut like a wire about to break.
And then,
A voice.
Soft.
Distant.
Impossible.
“Carlosa.”
I froze.
The wind died.
The sea stilled.
The world held its breath.
My shadow curled around my ankle, trembling violently.
I turned toward the sound—
Nothing.
Only mist rolling in from the sea.
Only cliffs stretching into darkness.
Only the echo of a voice that should not know my name.
My heart hammered once.
Twice.
Then the pull surged again, stronger than ever, ripping through me like a tidal wave.
I staggered forward, breathless.
“Where are you?” I whispered.
The mist thickened.
The pull tightened.
And the voice, impossibly soft, impossibly close, whispered again.
“Come find me.”
The world snapped back into motion.
The wind roared.
The sea crashed.
My shadow surged outward like a living storm.
And I ran.
Straight into the mist.
Straight toward the woman who moved the sea.
Straight toward the woman, my shadow recognized.
Straight toward the woman who should not exist.