chapter twenty-eight
ONCE I’M PAST THE GODS, the path narrows significantly.
The ravine drops away on either side, the darkness so complete it seems to swallow the stone itself.
Mist curls around my ankles, cold and damp.
The five full moons cast their light through the jagged crack splitting Anam’gate down its center, illuminating only a narrow ribbon of stone beneath my feet.
Everything else is darkness. Though it is still wide enough for comfortable walking, I can’t help how the sheer drop on either side makes me dizzy.
With a sharp kick, I send a stone plummeting into the darkness.
Then, holding my breath, I wait for the sound of it hitting the bottom.
All I get is a silence so profound it makes me question if the stone even fell.
Gripping my satchel, I pull my gaze away from the shadowy ravine.
Focusing on the crack down the middle of Anam’gate, I pick up my pace and stride forward toward where I believe the entrance must be.
As I come closer to the mountain, however, it becomes increasingly clear that entering won’t be an easy feat.
Right at the entrance, the path simply stops, leaving a huge gap without any obvious way to cross.
Except for the ribbon of moonlight stretching across the void like a luminous path, there is no bridge, rope, or anything else that could be useful.
Crawling my way to the edge, I stare down into the darkness of the bottomless pit while contemplating my options.
How many have passed the guardians only to die here?
Still, I don’t want to turn back—if I would even be allowed back out—and I don’t want to give up without at least trying.
There must be something that I don’t see.
Unless it’s an impossible task to enter Anam’gate, but that wouldn’t make any sense.
Why have guardians if no one can reach it anyway?
The only option I see is to run and jump and maybe, just maybe, with enough speed, I can make it past. But that ribbon of light .
. . Not for the first time, I wish I were born Reān, with their agility and grace.
I stare at the gap. Could it be that humans are not meant to reach it?
I walk a stretch back down the narrow path, then proceed to take off the heavy skins that have kept me warm since we left the Chìen nomads.
The air is freezing, but the skins are too heavy and will only drag me down.
Then I tie the satchel to my back and turn to look toward the entrance of Anam’gate again.
The moonlight path glows, waiting. Focus, La?na.
You can do this. I let out a heavy breath. And run.
Reaching the end of the path, I prepare to jump.
But just as my feet push back against the edge, ready to take the leap, it crumbles, causing me to stumble forward, arms flailing in the hope of grabbing ahold of something, anything.
I can barely believe my luck when my fingers hook onto the edge on the other side.
I scramble for a foothold, but all I manage is to send a small rockslide tumbling down, and now I’m holding on with pure adrenaline alone.
Then my fingers are slipping, and with nowhere for me to put my feet, I’m doomed.
A high-pitched scream escapes my lips as I lose my grip, tumbling together with the rocks toward a certain death.
Memories flash before my eyes like a kaleidoscope of emotions, while cool air rushes past me.
Then my fear of death is replaced by a sense of acceptance.
Finally, there will be peace. It can’t be much longer now.
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the impact, ready to face my inevitable death.
Impenetrable black water envelops me, its frigid temperature sending jolts of pain through my body as I’m submerged in a world of icy darkness.
The absence of light disorients me. There’s no way to tell which way is up and which is down.
Then my feet collide with solid ground and, desperate for air, I push off, sending myself in the direction I believe must be upward.
I was prepared to die, not to be underwater, and without that vital deep breath of oxygen before I went under, my lungs are now burning.
My head breaks through the surface, and I gasp for air.
I can’t believe I’m still alive. At least, I think I’m still alive.
But I won’t stay that way for long unless I get out of this frigid water.
It can’t be more than a degree or two from freezing.
Numbed by the cold, my movements are sluggish and unresponsive, and I struggle to reach the nearest edge.
There. Pulling myself up onto dry land, I glance around the dim cave.
The lake I fell into is as black as the night sky, which explains why it was impossible to see from the edge of the chasm, its surface looking like bottomless darkness.
Still, it was quite the drop. Gazing up through the hole I came through, I glimpse a couple soul stars high above.
Thank the gods I left the skins behind. I would have survived the fall only to drown.
Kneeling at the center of the circular cave floor, I take a moment to take stock of where I am and how best to proceed.
Although the water was freezing, the cave is pleasantly warm, so at least I won’t die from hypothermia.
I study the two tunnels leading out of this cave, shimmering golden threads crisscrossing their openings.
Will one of them lead me to my soul shards?
If so, which one? They appear about the same size and are equally dark and uninviting behind the shimmer.
Or maybe I’m in the wrong place entirely.
I’m just about to get up for a closer look when a deep voice shatters the silence.
“Welcome, child, to the womb of Anam’gate.” The omnipresent voice reverberates through the cave. “Few are those who dare to leap; your courage will be rewarded.”
So, it was never about reaching the other side. It was having the courage to try. I glance around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice.
“You have passed the second threshold,” the voice continues, “and you now stand at a crossroads, where two paths diverge into shadowy depths. The choice you now make is irreversible, so be wise, but be swift. When the Mi’Awal Moon reaches its peak, the paths close and will forever be lost.”
My gaze flies over the cave walls. Except for the hole I fell through, there are no windows to the outside and, accordingly, no way for me to see the moon or tell how much time I have left.
“If you choose the path to the right, nothing will change. You will be the one you have always known. If you choose this path, you will leave none the wiser. You will walk in the cave’s darkness for a day and a half until you once again emerge into the world reborn and yet not.
You will look the same, be the same. But you will be forgotten by all—including your anamé—and so you will be free, but most importantly, you will live. ”
The voice pauses, giving me time to process the information.
I will live. I can do whatever I want. I will be free.
My knees give in, and I sink down onto the cave floor, staring into the darkness of the right tunnel.
It is everything I have ever wanted.
“And what price do I pay?” I ask. “For my life. My freedom?”
“Your soul,” comes the answer. “You will leave your soul here with the gods.” A heavy silence settles in once more, punctuated only by the occasional drip of water from the cave walls.
Right. My soul shards. The very pieces I have traveled all the way here for. That I have killed for.
“And if I choose the tunnel to the left?”
“The second path is a forked path and shrouded in darkness. One fork will bring great good to the world, the other great destruction. In the end, it will all come down to which aspects of your soul you choose to feed—your light or your Void—but the choice is yet to be made.”
The decision shouldn’t be hard, yet it is.
Why aren’t you on your way down the first path already, La?na?
You shouldn’t even be considering the second option.
What you should do is grab your satchel and go.
Embrace your freedom, live your life. I want to kick myself.
Why am I hesitating? Who cares about a couple soul shards when I can have what I’ve always wanted: freedom.
Astēr will probably have my hide for stealing his powers.
Cyra already hates me. And Casimir . . .
I drag a hand across my face. Why am I so drawn to the second option when it will likely lead me to a certain death?
Or worse, I could damn the whole world. But if you choose the first option, you take no responsibility at all, a small voice whispers. It’s an impossible choice.
There’s a small flutter in my chest. What is that?
It flutters again, and then warmth radiates through my entire being—as if I’m wrapped in a warm embrace.
Seniia. Closing my eyes, I reach down the unfamiliar bond.
Her presence feels like joy and compassion.
Focusing, I also sense Vilder. Solid. Loyal.
That does it. There’s no way I can leave the two of them behind.
“I choose the second path,” I say, before I can change my mind again, although I know in my heart of hearts that if I don’t, I will spend the rest of my miserable human life regretting it.
“Your choice is heard,” the voice rumbles. “The first path is now closed.”
I jump as a dark material made out of the same light-absorbing black rock as Anam’gate slams shut over the entrance of the right tunnel.
Well, at least now I’m left with only one choice, whether I like it or not. But it was your choice, La?na. And that made all the difference.