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It happened again and again. People reached out to touch her.

The Savior of Ebondrift, their Vale-born daughter. And among the titles she recognized, she heard another name whispered.

Dawnbringer.

Skye snorted behind her.

“Don’t,” Taly hissed.

But he just grinned. “At this rate, I’m going to have to take up the lute. Every hero needs a bard.”

The people continued to part, their faces reflecting a reverence that both humbled and unsettled her. It was strange to see herself through their eyes—a symbol of hope, perhaps, even a protector.

She’d saved them. In Ebondrift, then at Crescent Canyon. Then again when she’d split open the sky to rip back the souls of the dead. And while she still didn’t feel like a savior, and her victories, though hard earned, were still in her mind morestrokes of luck than feats of true heroism—she’d become more than just herself. More than just Taly.

“This is weird, right?” she whispered.

“Really weird,” Skye murmured as hands trailed along his shoulders too. “They’ve obviously never seen you before you’ve had your coffee.” Taly stomped on his boot, but he didn’t miss a beat, strumming an imaginary lute as he sang, “Fear not the monsters, nor blades, nor war—fear instead the hero denied her morning pour.”

“It’s adorable that you think I won’t kill you,” Taly hissed.

“Her patience is gone, her blade is near—”

She elbowed him in the ribs.Hard.

“Ow,” he coughed. “See? Proving my point.”

“Enjoy it, dears,” Sarina drawled, smiling benevolently as she reached out to clasp the hands that stretched towards her. “It’s like I always say, you haven’t really lived until you’ve been anointed goddess of something or other. When I was on Jeddun—”

“We do not need to hear about Jeddun,” Ivain grumbled from the rear.

Gold streaked across Taly’s vision moments before a shout rose from the crowd.

She held out a hand.

The stone stopped inches from her palm, hanging mid-air.

Silence rippled over the crowd as people instinctively stepped back.

It was one thing to know a time mage was among them. Another to witness her in action.

Or maybe it was the heat radiating off Sarina. Even Taly needed some space.

Behind her, Skye was already coiled like a spring, his gaze cutting through the crowd, hunting for the idiot who’d dared tothrow it. Someone was about to learn the hard way not to mess with a shadow mage’s mate.

Let me, Taly sent down the bond.

She plucked the stone out of the air and stepped into the crush. Again, people parted around her, whispering.

Aether shimmered at her fingertips as a golden thread unspooled from the stone’s surface, winding backward through the crowd like a ribbon. Faces turned to follow it. Gasps rose as it brushed past boots and knees, trailing sparks.

She wanted them to see the spell.

To watch her follow it back to its point of origin.

He was Fey, Lowborn, with eyes that glowed like the morning sun. The wild hatred in his gaze should’ve seared her.

Taly stopped in front of him. The crowd held their breath.