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Enough witches.

Enough darkness.

Enough queens.

He was tired of living in the dark.

He was going to climb free once and for all, even if it killed him.

.21.

The New Dark Flame

Wherever Thorn had landed, it was different than any place she’d ever seen.

A carpet of grasses stretched across the ground. Some blades were hair-thin, others thick as butcher knives. Some stuck straight up several feet in the air.

The blades of grass were soft and warm, worn satin smooth. And these weren’t green and brown and yellow grasses, like Thorn was used to seeing in the Vale. They were lilac colored, orchid colored—pale pink and vibrant violet and brilliant blue smeared with gold.

A forest of bare trees, tall and narrow, stood on all sides. Their smooth white trunks reflected the colors of the sky above.

And the sky above...

Thorn gazed at it, not sure she’d ever be able tostop.

Such a foreign sight it was, an utterly clear night sky marred by neither storms nor shadows. The sky was as rich and dark a blue as Noro’s eyes, glittering with so many bright stars that when Thorn blinked, she saw tiny red spots.

On the eastern horizon, which Thorn could see through the trees, the sun was high in the sky. But even in the sunlight, the stars shone in bold and brilliant colors—sea-foam green and cornflower blue, gentle peach like the soft feathers ringing Mazby’s eyes, and a blushing raspberry like Thorn’s favorite paint.

“What is this place?” Thorn whispered.

Bartos climbed out of a hollow in the earth, pushing armfuls of grass out of his path. “The ground’s full of holes, for one,” he replied. Something crunched under his feet; he blanched. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Noro shook uprooted blades of grass from his mane. “I think we’re in the thick of a mountain range,” he murmured.

Thorn followed his gaze up, past the trees, and saw thathe was right. Beyond the forest, to Thorn’s left, stretched vast planes of shadow. Starlight illuminated moss-lined cliffs, grinning caves, sprawling veins of snow. As the stars twinkled, the vast towering mountains caught their glow and shimmered.

“But... are these the eastern mountains?” Thorn blinked at Noro. “Did Zaf really bring us all the way to...”

Zaf.Zaf.

Thorn whirled around, searching for Zaf’s pale head in the sea of starlit grass. “Zaf? Where are you?”

“Here,” came a faint voice.

Thorn’s heart lurched into her throat. She trudged through the grass, stumbled into one of those strange hollows (crunch, snapped something under her feet), and found Zaf lying in the roots of a leafless white tree. Tiny embers of white light popped around her hands and feet.

And Zaf’s body, though it had been pale before, was now even paler still. In Estar, she had glowed. But now that bloom of light had faded. Her luminous pale skin had gone the dull white of old teeth, and looked so paper-thin that Thorn felt tempted to trace the blue map of Zaf’s veins with her fingers.

But Thorn was too afraid to touch her.

Bartos, hurrying over to join them, let out a soft, sad sound when he saw Zaf lying there.

Noro immediately knelt beside Zaf and blinked two tears onto her forehead.

“Oh, Zaf.” Thorn reached out, hesitated. “What’s happened to you?”

Zaf cracked open her eyes. “Lightning moves fast and hot,” she said, shifting her body with a wince. “Maybe too fast and hot, now that I’m just little old ordinary me. No bolt to protect me.” A tiny hot hiss emitted from all the spots where her skin touched the roots. “I got us out of that horrible swamp, though, didn’t I? We’re safe?”