Chapter Fifty-Two
Sunlight floods my veins. As the full power of the Lightbringer surges through me, my vision sharpens, colors brighten.
Every gasp of air I draw into my lungs is dizzying, intoxicating.
And for an instant, I hear everything—every birdsong, every crash of a wave, every crunch of a leaf underfoot, insects buzzing miles away, flowers blooming on a distant continent.
The earth quakes, but not under my feet.
I see, with eyes that are not my own, the barren landscape of the Burning Lands. And I watch, as if from above, as the chasm stitches back together, sealing the Lake of Eternal Fire. The flames that ravage the land cease, like a thousand candles snuffed out by a single breath.
It’s as if a mighty wind swept over the wasteland. In its wake, the charred earth transforms into rich, fertile soil, and from the lush ground, Bloodroses bloom, glittering with gold dust.
And then I’m back on the Red Island, levitating above the sand.
A fresh wave of power overtakes me, and the magic that bursts from my outstretched hands feels like every minute I’ve ever spent with my family—like dancing with my crew aboard the Starchaser.
Like Henry’s laughter, and Leo’s courage, and Owen’s kind eyes.
It feels like Eliza’s warmth, and Charlie’s gentle hugs, and Lewis’s fierce determination.
Like Margaret’s selflessness and Jack’s patience.
Like Elsie’s joy and Albert’s compassion.
Like merry tunes played on Rook’s fiddle and afternoons sunbathing with Diana on the bowsprit.
Like Gabriel’s quiet encouragement and Flynn’s playful grin.
Like Killian’s and Orella’s unshakable loyalty.
Like Mother’s and Father’s unconditional love.
Like Titus’s smile.
I draw on the joy that pulses in the air around me, in the strings of light that connect me to every person that I love, and I find that I no longer pull from the Manan in the world around me.
I create it.
With merely a thought, the Underlings burst like exploding stars—not flesh and blood and bone, but light.
Gilded dust falls on the beaches of the Red Island.
When I drop, Titus’s arms are there to catch me, and it’s as if everything fades beneath the beating of his heart.
“You have got to stop jumping off perfectly good ships,” he says, his voice breaking.
He chuckles, but the sound is choked, as if he doesn’t know whether to sob or laugh, and suddenly, I’m laughing, too, even as the tears stream down my face.
I open my mouth to respond, but then his lips are on mine, and he’s kissing me as if I am everything.
As if I am every drop of water, every blade of grass in the jungle beyond, every gust of wind, and every ray of light that illuminates the world and everything in it.
As if I am more than flesh and blood and bone.
More than this heart beating hard against my rib cage, more than the butterflies taking flight in my stomach.
And I realize I don’t have to be anything in this moment but me.
I am Aster, and that is enough.
“You lied,” I say when he draws back, and I know by the smile on his face—by the look of awe and reverence in his eyes—that he’s thinking the same thing. “You said you wouldn’t always be there to catch me.”
He laughs, but tears stream down his cheeks. “Forgive me?”
I press my lips to his, running my hands through his hair as he lifts me, setting me on my own two feet. “Does that answer your question?” I whisper against his smile, breathless.
He exhales, and it sounds like the first full breath he’s ever taken. “Perhaps I should ask again.”
But then his brows pinch, and my heart gets stuck in my throat, as we both turn toward Will, kneeling in the sand, his hand pressed to his chest.
Blood seeps between his fingers, but when he looks up at us, his eyes glitter with amusement.
“Ah, so you haven’t forgotten about me.”
Titus seems like he doesn’t know whether to finish him off or call for aid. He doesn’t get the chance to do either.
The sea stirs and a wave rises, towering over our heads but never crashing. From the suspended water, light carves a doorway, much like the one from which Elsie and I stepped.
Rainai emerges from the threshold of glittering gold dust.
Titus’s eyes are wide as saucers. My family and friends, racing down the beach in our direction, draw their weapons as their approach turns cautious.
All except for Elsie, who trails a distance behind the others. As she passes, running toward Rainai’s open arms, I note the looks on their faces—note the moment they recognize her, their faces drawn with confusion as they try to make sense of what they’re seeing.
But Mother and Father seem to know instantly, and by the time they reach her, she turns from Rainai, arms wide as our parents scoop her up.
My siblings aren’t far behind.
“How—”
“But you’re—”
“I know!”
“And it’s—”
“You’re here!”
Albert’s face crumples, and Elsie crouches.
“I’m still older than you,” he says between sobs.
She laughs, mussing his hair. “Sure you are.”
Diana, Henry, and Eliza finally catch up, but it’s Gabriel who pushes past them, his bottom lip quivering as he covers his face with his hands.
Gently, Elsie reaches up, prying his fingers away. And conspiratorially, she whispers, “I have so many stories to tell you.”
Gabriel breaks into sobs, lifting Elsie in a crushing embrace even as she laughs and squeals for him to put her down.
Killian and Lady Isabelle follow behind Annie, who looks, for the first time since the events that took place at Bludgrave Manor, like the outspoken, cheerful little girl I met that day on the train to Ink Haven.
And in the moment Elsie holds out her hands for Annie, I don’t see the young woman standing before me but the child she once was.
Everyone surrounds her at once, and it’s as if no one notices Will, kneeling in the sand behind Titus and me.
They don’t even look in our direction as everyone speaks over one another, asking Elsie dozens of questions, hugging her, laughing, weeping.
Even Titus breaks away to greet her. “Welcome back, princess,” he says, and when she throws her arms around his neck, he tenses only for a second before returning her embrace.
Elsie doesn’t seem to want to let go as our family gathers around her, but she finally draws back, gesturing toward Rainai, who seems perfectly content to observe our family’s happy reunion.
Mother, Father, and Killian are the first to kneel.
“Please, rise,” Rainai says, placing a hand on Mother’s and Father’s shoulders.
The others cast one another puzzled, sidelong glances.
“This gate will not remain open for very long,” Rainai says, a touch of sadness in his warm smile.
He looks past my family, to the gathering crowd of our soldiers—humans, Nightweavers, and Myths.
“I’ve come to offer you a choice.” He turns to me, then, and his gaze drops to Will kneeling at my side, his head bowed. “You as well, Azeron.”
An uneasy murmur passes through the crowd.
“You have all chosen to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves,” he says, and the scars that mark him as a warrior I now realize establish him as a commander of armies, because as his voice carries over the assembly, warm and calm, the people quiet, and some seem to recognize, inherently, who stands before them, because many drop to their knees.
“Should you choose to make a home in Elysia, you will be welcome. But know that if you step through this gate, you will never return to this world.”
No one moves. And then, a Nightweaver and a human step forward, their hands clasped.
Rainai greets them with a gracious bow. The couple exchange a look—part excitement, part fear—before stepping through the open doorway.
A handful of Myths follow, along with Grendwin, who drops to one knee as he passes Rainai. “My king,” he says.
“Grendwin,” Rainai says with a wink, ushering him toward the doorway.
More Nightweavers follow, and as they step through, as the light engulfs them, I see the moment their wings sprout from their backs in a blur of feathers—wings the Nightweavers were stripped of when they were first banished from Elysia.
A handful of humans choose to go as well—citizens of Ember who take their entire families with them.
Less than half of our soldiers step through the door.
Those that remain kneel, their heads bowed. It’s faint, at first, but I see their lips moving, and I realize…
The people are singing.
It’s the same familiar lullaby Mother and Father used to sing as we’d fall asleep, rocked by the waves.
The melody that played from Mother’s favorite music box when I was a child.
The tune I once heard Titus humming. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it, I almost forgot what it sounded like.
But now I recognize it. It’s the song of my heart. The song of the sea.
Rainai turns to Will once more. He crouches, touching Will’s shoulder.
Will gasps as golden light spills from the wound in his chest, hindering the outflow of blood.
“Your wound is cursed.” Rainai frowns, his brows nettled. “If you remain in this realm, you will die.”
Will’s eyes twinkle with humor even as he groans in pain. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
They share a knowing look I can’t begin to understand.
“I cannot let you back into Elysia,” Rainai says, “but I can send you beyond—back to where I first found you.”
Will nods slowly. “Not many people there who’d be pleased to know I’ve returned.”
Rainai smiles at that, and there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose so,” he says. “But this is your opportunity to change that.”
Will’s jaw tightens. “You’re giving me a second chance?”
Rainai nods, considering as he looks out over the waves toward the horizon. “Perhaps this time, you can choose to be someone other than who Chaos forced you to become.”
Will’s eyes darken, if only for a moment. But when his gaze slides to me, his expression softens. “I want a new name.”
A flicker of surprise on Rainai’s kind face. “And what is that?”
Will looks to the sky, as if he were gazing at the stars, a private smile playing on his lips. “Astrophel.”
Rainai grins. “He who loves the star,” he muses, stepping back toward the open doorway. “Whenever you’re ready, then, Astrophel.”
Will gets to his feet, his hand still pressed to his chest, and when he stumbles forward a step, Titus’s hand darts out to steady him.
He and Will lock eyes, and I fight the urge to step between them.
But Titus’s mouth works, his brow furrowed, as if there’s a decision he can’t seem to make as his hand slips from Will’s arm, his fist clenching at his side.
“I know you can’t forgive me for what I’ve done,” Will says, his voice ragged.
“I won’t ask you to. But… please, know that if it weren’t for you, I might have been truly lost.” He looks at me, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
“For the first time in my long, wretched existence, you made me want to choose to be more than a monster. You—both of you—showed me what love is. You… you set me free. I… am truly sorry.” A tear slips onto his cheek. “I wish you all the best.”
Pain stitches across my heart.
He killed Owen.
He saved me.
I don’t know how to feel—what to say. But when Titus shakes Will’s outstretched hand, a small cry escapes my lips.
Will turns to me, but just as his lips part on a breath, Lady Isabelle approaches.
I’m not sure what I expect, but there’s a collective gasp of shock as she draws Will into her arms.
“You’ll carry him with you forever,” I hear her say, her voice trembling. “My son.”
And then she’s gone, turning her back to him as she makes her way down the shoreline, as if she can’t bear to watch him leave—this Changeling that bears the appearance and memories of her child.
Killian takes her place, his jaw clenched.
“I would finish the job myself,” he says through gritted teeth, a tear rolling down his cheek, “but my nephew is still a part of you. And for the sake of his memory, I—” He shakes his head, pressing his lips tight as if to hold back a sob.
“I truly hope you find a way to atone for all the pain you’ve caused. ”
Annie peeks out from behind Killian, her chin wobbling.
Will kneels, his arms outstretched, but Annie just shakes her head.
“You’re leaving?” she whimpers.
Will wipes a tear from his face, and when he speaks, the rasp of his voice is smooth again, like it was before he revealed himself to be the Underling who betrayed us. “I can’t stay.”
She collapses into his arms. “But who will check for monsters under my bed?”
Will presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “I’m sure Henry will gladly take up that mantle. And if there’s ever a time he’s not around…”
He draws back, scooping up a handful of sand. He presses it together, as if molding it, and when he opens his palms, a tiny wolf cub made entirely of sand leaps into Annie’s arms.
Annie hugs the cub close to her chest even as she continues to cry.
And then Henry is there, standing in front of Will. He shakes his head, his expression twisted with rage.
“You can’t—” His voice cracks. “You can’t just leave.”
I’m not sure who throws their arms out first, but when the two embrace, Will looks so much like his old self again that I have to look away.
Henry sobs onto Will’s shoulder. “I knew it—I knew you were still in there,” he chokes out. “I can’t—can’t lose you. You’re my brother—”
“I always will be.” Will draws back, taking Henry’s face in his hands. “Always.”
Gabriel, who refuses to look at Will, takes Henry by the arm and gently pulls him away as he continues to weep.
The doorway is growing smaller now, and Will’s hair has begun to change, shifting from black to white.
“It’s time,” Rainai says solemnly. “We must go now.”
Will turns to follow, but I reach out. Take his hand.
His shoulders tense, and his throat bobs as he meets my gaze.
“Aster Oberon,” he murmurs, his eyes flitting over my face one final time, as if to memorize it. “A name fit for a queen.” And then, softer, “My undoing.”
My breath catches, tears blurring my vision.
He turns again, his fingers slipping from my grasp. Rainai places a hand on Will’s shoulder as Titus steps forward, twining his fingers with mine.
“Why Astrophel?” I ask.
He doesn’t face me again, but I hear the smile in his voice—can picture the amusement glittering in his eyes when he says, “Aster isn’t just the name of a flower. It means star, doesn’t it?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer.
Astrophel. He who loves the star.
Gold dust shimmers in the air all around him as Will steps forward, into the light, and as he and Rainai vanish, the wave crashes against the shore.