Chapter Thirty-Six
The surge of power coursing through my veins feels alien after so long without my Gifts. But this—this is nothing like I remember. It’s stronger. Denser. As if my blood has been replaced with lightning, too bright and violent to contain.
My arteries tighten and flare with each pulse, expanding and contracting in an electric rhythm that feels like it might tear me apart from the inside. I gasp, fingers curling into fists as my body struggles to remember how to hold this much power.
Before I can find my balance, Lunaris is gone—vanished like a ripple swallowed by still water.
And in the very next breath, I’m back.
I stand before the rippling wall where it all began, the air humming softly around me, familiar and changed all at once. The realm feels… aware. Watching. Waiting.
I step through.
A new, steady confidence settles into my bones as my boots hit solid ground. Across the canyon, River and Ryder come into view, both slumped against a tree like exhaustion finally claimed its victory. Their shoulders are heavy. Their heads bowed.
Then River looks up.
“—No way,” he breathes.
Ryder’s head snaps up a second later.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moves. Their faces flicker through shock, disbelief, relief—emotions colliding and rearranging themselves too quickly to name. Then River scrambles to his feet so fast he nearly trips.
“You—” He laughs, wild and breathless. “You actually did it!”
My toes reach the cliff’s edge.
Before I can even think about the gap between us, the bridge begins to rebuild itself.
Ropes weave together midair, fibres twisting and tightening with swift, deliberate knots. Planks slide into place one by one, smoothing into a sturdy span that hums faintly beneath my feet. It’s stronger than before—solid, renewed—like the world itself recognises what’s changed inside me.
River lets out a triumphant shout, bouncing on his toes. “YES!” His laughter echoes across the canyon, unrestrained and bright.
Ryder doesn’t move.
He just watches me.
His eyes stay locked on mine—steady, searching, filled with something deeper than relief. Something raw. Something unguarded.
I don’t hesitate.
I run.
The bridge holds beneath my feet, and even if it hadn’t, I know—I know—the world would have caught me. I leap into Ryder’s arms, and he catches me easily, spinning once before pulling me into a fierce, grounding embrace that steals the air from my lungs.
“Thank you,” he breathes, voice rough against my hair.
I pull back just enough to see his face. His eyes are frantic and relieved all at once, like he hasn’t quite convinced himself I’m real.
“I haven’t even healed you yet,” I say, my brows knitting.
“No.” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh breaking free. “Thank you for not dying. I was sitting here losing my mind, thinking you weren’t—”
I cut him off with a kiss.
“I’m okay,” I whisper against his lips, then kiss him again. “I’m okay.”
A pointed throat-clearing interrupts us.
I giggle and step back. Ryder groans softly, rolling his eyes as River grins at us.
“I knew you could do it,” River says, pride warming his voice.
I pull him into a hug, squeezing tight before stepping back and looking between them.
“Thank you for not killing each other while I was gone.”
“There’s still time,” Ryder adds with a faint chuckle, and River scoffs, though his smile gives him away—
But the sound dies in his throat.
His expression shifts instantly, all warmth wiped away as his gaze snaps past me, sharpening with sudden alarm.
My stomach drops. “What is it?”
I turn, following his stare. River stiffens beside me.
My jaw falls open.
The sun is falling.
The massive golden orb sinks toward the earth, inch by deliberate inch. Each movement sends out a pulse—waves of scorching energy rippling through the sky like shockwaves. It isn’t plummeting. It’s descending. Purposeful. Unstoppable.
And if we don’t move—if we don’t act—
It will fall straight into the Siphon’s hands.
Ryder’s face twists as he clutches his head, fingers digging into his temples. River winces at the exact same moment, mirroring the pain.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Another one of his headaches.
Ryder’s breath turns ragged. He pinches the bridge of his nose with clenched teeth.
“This is it,” I say softly, stepping toward him. “I can heal you. I know I can.”
He exhales sharply, then nods. “Okay. Do it.”
I steady myself—and really look at him.
Something inside me shifts.
The world sharpens, peels back. Ryder’s body doesn’t become translucent, not literally—but my perception slides beneath his skin. I see veins like glowing pathways, blood rushing, systems humming quietly beneath flesh and bone, like a living X-ray.
I place my hand on his arm.
Heat pulses beneath my palm.
Colour floods my vision—red everywhere, strong and alive. And threading through his right arm is black, thick and stubborn, as if fused to him, but tangled within the red is something else.
Lilac.
Faint. Sickly. Curling into the healthy flow like invasive vines.
I don’t hesitate.
I reach.
The lilac light shivers, reacting to my touch. It loosens, then pulls free in soft, wispy strands, rising from Ryder’s skin as if drawn by breath or gravity reversed. It gathers above my palm, coalescing into a hovering pool of shimmering violet.
Ryder gasps.
Then exhales.
River straightens sharply. “—Oh.” He blinks. “Oh, wow. The pain’s gone.”
Ryder stares at his hands, flexing his fingers like he expects answers to appear there. Then his gaze locks onto the lilac serum swirling above my palm.
It isn’t much. Barely enough to fill a vial.
Hard to believe something so small could have rewritten his entire mind.
His lip curls. “Destroy it.”
I nod fast and close my fist, crushing the light; it fractures into dust, dissolving instantly into the canyon wind. Gone.
“Whoa,” River breathes. “You’re amazing…”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I look away, trying not to dwell on the affection threaded through his voice—on feelings I don’t yet know how to hold.
“He’s right,” Ryder says quietly. “You are.”
The words land heavier than they should.
For a fleeting second, his eyes widen—as if he’s seeing something else, somewhere else—then they settle back on me, dark, intent, and full of things neither of us are ready to say.
There’s one more thing I need to do before we continue.
The air splits when I open the portal.
It doesn’t tear so much as peel, reality curling back on itself like burned paper.
Astra Nova’s entrance looms over us, a cold, quiet air humming in the space around us.
For a moment, the boys look at me, confused, before the slow realisation ebbs on their faces.
Ryder’s first, then Rivers. The remainder of the mountain that had been hovering over us, a distant but heavy reminder of the General’s experimentation.
I swallow and hold the opening steady with shaking hands.
“Now,” I whisper. “Come on.”
Nothing happens.
The portal breathes. Slow. Patient.
For one foolish heartbeat, I think maybe it’s not here. Maybe it’s finally succumbed to the darkness in Astra Nova. Then the shadows inside the portal move.
I step back instinctively as something crawls out, making my skin crawl with it.
It’s too tall. Too thin. Too wrong, but somehow exactly how I remember it, as if forged from my nightmares themselves.
Its limbs bend the wrong way, joints clicking as it pulls itself free of the tear in the air.
Its skin is stretched tight and blackened, like it’s been scorched from the inside.
Where its face should be, there’s only a warped suggestion of one, eye’s glowing a dim red, and a furious, mouth split too wide.
My heart slams against my ribs.
Behind me, I hear a sharp intake of breath.
“Gods,” River mutters.
The creature lunges.
I barely have time to react before it’s on me, claws slashing toward my face. I throw my hands up on instinct, and the power answers—raw and immediate. The air locks, freezing the creature mid-strike, its claws hovering an inch from my throat, trembling violently.
Its scream tears out of it, distorted and animal.
Sweat breaks along my spine. Holding it still feels like gripping a storm, but the power… my power is the hurricane that eats the storm.
The moment my hand touches its chest, the violence drains out of it, reshaping into something warmer, steadier. It flows through my fingers like breath after drowning. I press my palm flat and let it move where it wants.
The creature convulses.
Cracks spiderweb across its dark skin, light leaking through the fractures. And soon, the screaming cuts off, replaced by a raw, broken gasp. Its body begins to fold in on itself, bones shifting, claws retracting, the monstrous shape collapsing like a nightmare losing its grip.
I don’t pull away.
I hold on.
The light flares—and then there’s a body in my arms.
Human.
A boy slumps forward, gasping, his weight real and warm as he collides with me.
He looks younger than Ryder—barely more than a first-year at Moon.
His skin is pale and unmarked, untouched by the thing he was only moments ago.
His hands are just hands now, fingers trembling as they clutch at my sleeve.
Silence crashes down around us.
“W—where am I?” he asks, voice thin and disoriented. “W—who are you?”
Confusion rearranges his features as he looks around, taking in his surroundings.
“I’m Asha. That’s River, and—”
“Ryder?” His voice lifts with recognition.
Ryder is already crouching in front of him, searching his face like he’s afraid it might dissolve if he looks away.
“You’re Xavier, right?” he asks.
The boy nods quickly, breath hitching.
“You’re okay,” Ryder says gently. “It’s all over now.”
Something in Xavier’s shoulders loosens, tension drains from him as if the words themselves are holding him upright.
“What am I doing here?” he asks, still dazed.
“I’ll explain everything later,” Ryder says, firm but kind. “Right now, we need to get you somewhere safe.”
Xavier nods without hesitation.
Ryder glances at me, a silent question.
I don’t hesitate.
I open the portal to Ziek’s village, light folding inward as space tears cleanly apart, and we all make our way inside.
***
“So… what, are you like a God now?” Nala asks, eyes wide as she watches her bone knit itself back together under my hands.
We’re tucked inside one of the chalets in Ziek’s village—the place his people use when they’re hurt.
Shelves crowd the walls, cluttered with potions and elixirs.
It reminds me of the healing quarter at school, only far more rustic and less academic, more lived-in.
“Gods, no,” I say with a laugh. I tap her leg, letting her know she’s fully healed.
It still feels surreal that with the gem, my powers actually work inside the Hollow.
Now being back here doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it once did.
I’m still standing between the jaws of this place, but now… now I know how to keep them open.
Nala rises slowly, testing her newly healed leg. She takes a tentative step, then another, before breaking into a grin.
“Good as new!”
“I can’t believe you actually did it!” Ziek says, eyes bright as he watches the lingering glow fade from my hands.
“I can’t either,” I admit, breathless with the truth of it.
“What I can’t believe,” Nala cuts in, pointing between River and Ryder, “is how those two idiots didn’t kill each other along the way”
“That’s what I said,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“Remind me why we went back for her,” Ryder says, his voice dripping with sarcasm—
But then a real smile slips through. I know he’s happy to have her back, whether he’ll ever admit it out loud or not. River rolls his eyes at Ryder’s comment and pulls Nala into a hug.
“Oh, we came close a few times,” River adds, looping back to her earlier joke.
Nala laughs—lighter now, relieved in a way that makes my chest loosen.
“I don’t doubt you did,” she says, shaking her head with a small grin.
“We should get going,” Ryder cuts in, hopping off the desk and snapping the moment back to reality. I give him a small smile before turning to Ziek.
“Thank you for looking after Nala… and for saving us. We really can’t thank you enough.”
Ziek nods—a small, subtle gesture, but it carries more weight than any speech he could give. He opens the chalet door, and we step outside… only to freeze in place on the patio, our jaws slack.
Ziek’s people are gathered below, armed and ready. A whole line of them—blades, bows, and raw power crackling in the air. But their expressions aren’t hostile.
They’re admiring.
“You need a few more fighters on your end?” Ziek asks, one eyebrow raised in that way that makes it impossible to tell if he’s teasing or dead serious.
“Really?” I blink at him, stunned. “No—I can’t ask you to do that. Your life is here… in the Hollow.”
“If you don’t defeat the Siphon, we won’t have a life.”
His gaze shifts to his daughter, curled safely in her mother’s arms, and the meaning lands heavy in my chest. He doesn’t mean his life.
He means hers.
He steps forward, jaw set with quiet resolve. “My men are yours. Tell me where you want us.”
Ryder holds my gaze, a silent agreement passing between us. His small nod says everything.
We need them. We need everyone.