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Astra was incredible.

It wasn’t the first time that she’d defied the odds—not even close—but this was a whole new level, even for her. I was insanely proud of her, proud of being part of the same family, of having been taught similar values and core strengths. This wouldn’t be the last amazing thing she would do, either.

“She did it,” Myst said, watching Brandon as he carried Astra off to the treehouse residences. Hammer was right behind them, quiet and ever watchful. It was hard to look away from the creature, a savage but majestic dire wolf that carried a certain timeless wisdom in its Berserker-like gaze. He may be a beast, but something tells me there’s more on his mind than normal beastly things.

“Yes, she did,” I replied, still astonished.

The Aesir were like extensions of a Berserker or a Valkyrie’s spirit. Destroying one reduced their masters to mere wisps of deadly, festering darkness—most of whom were attracted to Haldor for some reason. I’d learned that some of Myst, Regine, and Brandon’s friends had become Haldor’s companions, his to play with for an eternity. Such a fate terrified me, but nothing filled me with more dread than the prospect of being stuck in this place forever while Hrista carried on with her agenda on our island.

“She will be able to hold one open longer the more she practices,” Myst muttered after a long and pleasantly peaceful silence—the kind that came after a good meal or during a crimson sunset. Astra’s accomplishment deserved this quiet reverence. “I have faith that we will leave this nightmarish land soon.”

“Which means Hrista was absolutely right to fear her,” I replied. We walked through the woods for a while, tiny figures among the giant redwoods, the fake sky covered by a sea of rustling leaves. There were animals here—animals I’d only caught glimpses of before. Strangely shaped deer and black rabbits with big, violet eyes were just two of the oddities of this alternative island. Nature had found its own way out here. It followed most of the original’s pattern, but there were deviations as well. It wasn’t hard to spot the difference once you spent a little more time walking around and observing the surroundings. “Astra is dangerous to her and her plans. With her abilities, Astra may be able to get us home.”

“Not just that,” Myst said, staring ahead at the narrowing path. Wild violets and lilies grew on both sides, their stems stretching outward and casually bending under the weight of their fragranced blossoms. “Hrista controls the Berserkers’ access to Purgatory. I believe that’s done with the round crystal that Brandon mentioned, though I never saw it myself. I didn’t even know Hrista was here until we reached the villa... No one back home knows of what she has been doing, and if Astra can open shimmering portals, it means she can likely control the destination, as well.”

“Oh, so the portals don’t only connect the real island to the fake one.”

She shook her head. “No. I came through a shimmering portal from Purgatory, but I was wrestling a Berserker with ‘access’ at the time, much like Regine. I wouldn’t have been able to come through on my own. Astra could very well alert the forces of Order of what has happened if she can open a portal there. We should absolutely consider that once Astra gets her ability under control, and once the Shadians are safely back in the Earthly realm. We know too little about this place to let over five thousand people stay here for much longer.”

“Have you dealt with these passageways before?”

Myst laughed lightly, and it was meant to mock the question but all it did was make me smile, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Valkyries and Berserkers belong in Purgatory. We don’t just walk off through a shimmering portal like it’s everyday business. That’s Hrista’s thing, and it’s an unacceptable anomaly.”

“Okay. That’s a no, then,” I replied, holding back a chuckle.

“No.” Her laughter died as she looked at me. “Every realm functions on some basic principles. I simply observed this phenomenon of passing from one dimension to another and formed an opinion based on patterns. So far, Astra has proven me right on most of my theories, hence my confidence in her ability to do more.”

We walked in silence for a while, gathering our thoughts and trying to move away from what we’d just witnessed with Astra. I’d noticed the closeness between her and Brandon. For her sake, I hoped it would lead somewhere good, though I did worry. Like Myst had just said, creatures of Purgatory belonged in Purgatory. If we prevailed against this new nemesis, things would eventually be pushed back into a state of normalcy. That meant the Berserkers and the Valkyries would return to their homes. Where would that leave Astra?

It didn’t take a genius profiler to observe her emotions. She had them on display, whether she knew it or not. Astra was falling for Brandon, and Brandon was obviously fond of her too. If they had a chance at something, I wished it for them. Even though reality had a way of biting us when we least expected it. But deep down, I already knew why I wanted it to work between Astra and Brandon; it would spell a positive outcome for whatever this was growing between Myst and me. I wasn’t sure of much, but I knew the Valkyrie’s impact on me reached deep levels of my being—and not all of it could be attributed to her glorious nature, her splendor as a being of Purgatory. Our connection went far beyond the first impressions of grandeur that she clearly left on anyone who crossed her path.

“Do you regret being here?” I asked, my lips moving before I could stop them. One thought had led to another, it seemed.

Myst gave me a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“If given the chance to do it all over again, would you?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “Stopping Hrista is absolutely paramount.”

Her dedication was impressive, but it wasn’t what I was trying to figure out. “What about us? The people you’ve met in the middle of this mess. Would you help us again like you did that day when Haldor came after us with his shadow hounds?”

“Yes.” Again, there wasn’t a single pause between my question and her answer.

“Good. I’m glad I met you, too,” I replied. I would’ve liked a more detailed answer, something that might satisfy my growing curiosity about her mindset and her emotions, but I had a feeling this was the most I would get from Myst.

“My living days are far behind me. I don’t remember much of my life,” she said. We stopped under the eldest of the forest’s redwoods, a gargantuan tree that was as wide as a building and about as tall as a skyscraper. Its branches were heavy with rich clusters of leaves, its bark reddish-brown and wrinkled with age. The trunk could hold dozens of homes, yet no one had touched it. The residential area was pretty far away. “Life is only a faint memory in the back of my head,” Myst added, placing her palm against the hard and rugged bark. “Being around living people feels like a new experience, I’ll admit, even though I know it isn’t. I’d never left Purgatory since being chosen as a Valkyrie. As the memories of my life faded, it was the only thing I knew. At first, I felt lost and confused and even powerless against such an abrupt change, but once I adjusted, it made more sense. The same can be said about you, Thayen.”

“Me?”

“You confused me at first, but now… you make more sense,” she replied, the shadow of a smile flitting across her face.

“How so?” I asked.

“I answer to Order, and I function according to the laws of Order,” Myst said. “Every being of Purgatory is the same in that sense, and there are thousands, maybe more of us. My powers, my light, everything that I am is a defining feature of the function I serve. I bring glory and brightness, the reward of a life well lived and access to the beyond. Those I’m chosen to guide into that never-ending realm are people of valor and goodness. By contrast, Berserkers are darkness and wrath, a preliminary taste of what is in store for those who have done harm. The balance of the universe and its many dimensions dictates retribution. All of this I understand. Living, however, is a sum total of experiences and emotions and of decisions based on those experiences and emotions. It still feels foreign to me, but I’m beginning to understand why you say or do certain things. Or, better said, I’m beginning to remember why you say or do certain things.”

This was a good time to ask her something I’d been wondering about. “You mentioned your powers, that each Valkyrie and Berserker has a defining ability. Would you mind telling me what yours is? What about Regine’s? Brandon’s? I know Haldor’s is that he’s like a magnet to the shadow hounds that serve him.”

“It’s not my place to tell you about them,” Myst replied, the blue in her eyes fading to white for the faintest moment as I inched closer to her. She didn’t seem to mind it, either. My body did things without me sometimes. “It’s their story to tell, should they choose to do so. But I can tell you about mine.”

“Truth be told, I’m dying to know,” I chuckled, well aware of how vulnerable and insignificant I was by comparison. I, a mere mortal (albeit gifted with vampiric immortality, but not invulnerable), standing before this marvelous creature of an afterlife realm, a being of light and pure wonder. Simply being able to look at her and talk to her was enough to render me dumbstruck, yet I couldn’t stop myself from asking more, from wanting more. “I mean, technically speaking, you already know what my special mojo does…”

She took a step back and slowly turned to face me, one hand resting on the bejeweled pommel of her sheathed sword. I’d taken to calling it Lightbringer. Even Myst had adopted it as its name, previously unaware that she had the liberty to do that. “Just to be clear, I have no control over what’s beyond my realm. I cannot disclose anything about it.”

“I know that.”

“What I can do, however, is project souls from the beyond. I’ve rarely had to use this ability in Purgatory, except when I was tracing a lineage or when one of us was investigating something. It doesn’t really matter. But that’s my ability. I can connect to a soul who has already passed through Purgatory, and I can… show their image before me. It allows for communication.”

To say that what she’d just revealed was unexpected would’ve been a gross understatement. The air was knocked out of my lungs as I tried to wrap my head around the concept. “You… you project and speak with dead people, basically,” I managed, running a hand through my hair.

Myst nodded once. “Yes.”

My heart was already racing, as if it knew exactly what I was about to ask her to do for me. “I’ve never told you about my parents.”

“Derek and Sofia. We’ve met,” she replied dryly, as if I’d just said the silliest thing.

“No, my birth parents. Acheron and Danika, of the Nasani dynasty of Visio,” I said. “They died when I was little. Derek and Sofia adopted me afterward.”

She stilled, her fiery blue gaze fixed on my face. “You’re an orphan.”

“I was,” I said, sighing. “I don’t think of myself that way most of the time—Derek and Sofia are my family now—but my mother… she was a monster. She had my father killed. She would’ve killed me too in order to preserve her immortality.”

Myst sucked in a breath, slowly bringing a hand up to her chest, as if to stop her heart from beating too fast. She didn’t have one, biologically speaking—none of the beings beyond the living realm had actual bodies—but the gesture spoke volumes nonetheless.

“Please, don’t tell me you wish to see her, of all the people who have died in your world,” she murmured, clearly horrified. Ignoring the painful pang in my heart whenever Danika crossed my mind, I chose to focus on Myst’s beauty, instead. I was momentarily speechless, mesmerized by the delicate lines of her face, but I managed to shake my head no in response. “Good,” she said, “because I have someone better in mind.”

Gently, Myst drew her sword and pressed one palm against its blade. Closing her eyes, she shone from within as if light flowed through her veins. Breathless as I beheld her, I barely noticed the luminescent figure that gradually emerged from thin air beside her. Only when his features became clear enough to trigger my most distant memories did I realize what the Valkyrie had done.

My heart broke all over again, but it overflowed with joy, too.

“Dad…” I whispered, my voice gone, my throat burning.

Myst had summoned my father’s ghost. The great Acheron Nasani stood in front of me, tall as an oak, smiling as if we’d never been apart for even a second. His spirit shimmered with love, and tears pricked my eyes as I accepted this new reality. My father was here…