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I will ask. I will ask them.

The Bifrost whispered to his soul, flooding his senses with warmth and compassion, as if she too understood his struggle. That dying hope flickered one last time.

“You don’t have to do this alone! Let them help us!” Anrid must have heard the Bifrost’s plan as well, and she approved of it.

The weight of the decision threatened to break him. He’d always tried to do his duty without needing help, to carry his own weight, to do what was required of him. But he wasn’t enough. Not now. Would it be wrong to ask for help? To let them help?

Anrid’s tear-filled eyes whispered the words she didn’t say. She approved of the plan. She wanted him to ask for the help of his people. And if they were indeed willing…it would be nothing short of pride for him to refuse.

“All right,” he breathed.

The Bifrost threw herself outward, the strain pulling him thinner and thinner as if he too were being spread throughout all of Agmon. Anrid and the others cried out, their bodies stiffening and arching from the strain.

Help us, help us, help us...

The Bifrost’s plea tore throughout the entire kingdom as it sought for anyone willing to come to their aid. Jael felt thousands of voices crying out in fear, with questions he could not answer. Help us...

There was only need.

And companionship.

Anrid’s hands clung to his even as she grew weaker from the strain: she was softness and fire rolled into one beautiful, burning presence. He sensed Kora close by, his energy sharp and feverish. Math, a bright and youthful warmth. Teague, his glow more subtle, more mature. And little Rig, as bright as a new runestone flaring to life for the first time.

Then, there were others. Other lights. Other glows. Other thoughts. They flooded the Bifrost, slowly at first but with growing numbers.

The shades threw themselves into one, last desperate attack. Math screamed a warning as the runestones began to fail. The purple barrier cracked, and darkness leaked through. Several shades broke through the barrier, hissing and screaming.

Icy, hot white light tore through the cavern, and he lost his hold on consciousness.

When he came to, he lay in a familiar place. The heart of the Bifrost pulsed, surrounding him with rose, amethyst, teal, and green hues. There were ambers and muted oranges, all connected by the wispy, white threads of the Bifrost.

He rose to his feet. He wasn’t alone; Anrid sat nearby, her auburn hair cascading around her like a cloak. Kora stood a few feet away, hands on his hips as he surveyed their surroundings. Math and Teague and Rig…they were all there.

And there were others, peeling out of the rainbow of colors, hundreds of souls—no, thousands of souls. Had all of Agmon answered his call for aid?

A singularly familiar form peeled out of a golden smear of light. He was tall and broad, with dark hair graying at the temples and slanted eyebrows. King Ereb stepped closer to him. Two other forms followed on his heels—Eris and their mother, Queen Nyx.

He braced himself for chastisement.

King Ereb clasped his shoulder in a firm hand. “Was it enough?” he asked, his voice low and intended for Jael’s ears alone.

Jael blinked and studied his father, searching those deep-set, piercing eyes for answers. He found no condemnation…only concern.

He exhaled, long and deep. “I think so,” he managed at last, relief blooming in his gut. “The Bifrost feels at peace. I’m not sensing the shadows anymore.”

“So this—bonding—has driven them away?”

Jael searched inside himself, inside his connection with the Bifrost. He could find no trace of danger, no gaping cracks to the world beyond trying to grasp entry through the Bifrost. “I think so,” he whispered. “I cannot say where they’ve gone, but they’re gone. If they’re still lurking in Gelaira, the elves can deal with them. It’s their problem now. We owe them nothing.”

King Ereb’s eyes flickered close, but then they snapped open as a pleased smile touched his mouth. “I can’t say I disagree with you, all things considered. The matter will require…more insight. Well done. For a moment there...”

“I know.” He had thought they’d reached the end, too.

Jael thought this would be the end of it, but his father hesitated, his right hand twitching as if he wished to reach for Jael, but held himself back. “I fear—I fear I owe you an apology. I should never have put this on you. This was far bigger than one person. I shouldn’t have asked you to deal with Kora instead of owning my own responsibility. I have no excuse.”

Queen Nyx cleared her throat.

The king shot her a mildly annoyed but wry look. “No excuse other than I was exasperated and at my wit’s end. I’m sorry, Jael.”