Page 37

Kaia

I’m supposed to be packing.

Instead, I’m standing in my room, staring at my empty travel bag like it might spontaneously fill itself through sheer force of wishful thinking.

“Okay,” I mutter, hands on my hips. “Clothes. Weapons. Whatever else people need to not die horribly. How hard can this be?”

Apparently, very hard.

Every time I turn around to grab something, I forget what I was reaching for. The silver pendant Kieran gave me keeps catching the light wrong, making me dizzy. And my shadows—usually so helpful—are acting like caffeinated squirrels.

Bob hovers near the window, his usual commanding presence replaced by what I can only describe as pacing. Patricia’s frantic note-taking has reached new heights of chaos, her shadowy quill practically smoking. Even Mouse seems agitated, circling my ankles with uncharacteristic urgency.

“What’s gotten into you guys?” I ask, finally managing to stuff a spare shirt into my bag .

Carl zooms past my head, trailing what looks suspiciously like one of Torric’s leather bracers. Steve follows, clutching a book that definitely belongs to Malrik. Finnick brings up the rear with something that glints like Kieran’s ceremonial dagger.

“Are you—are you stealing again?” I demand, but they’re already gone, vanishing through the walls like guilty children.

Bob remains, radiating disapproval so intense I can practically feel it.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I tell him. “I didn’t tell them to steal anything.”

He flickers once—sharp, impatient—then drifts toward the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I grab the rest of my essentials, shoving them haphazardly into the bag. “Though I still don’t understand why everyone’s acting so—”

My hand freezes on the Heart of Eternity.

The moment my fingers touch the pendant, Mouse hisses . An actual, audible hiss that makes my blood run cold. Bob snaps to attention, positioning himself between me and the necklace like a tiny shadow bodyguard.

“What the hell?” I whisper.

Patricia abandons her notes entirely, hovering near the Heart with obvious distress. Even Carl pokes his head through the wall, vibrating with anxiety.

I try to lift the pendant. Mouse growls .

“Okay, okay.” I drop my hands, stepping back. “Message received. No Heart of Eternity on this trip.”

The relief that washes through my shadows is palpable. Mouse immediately settles, purring against my leg. Bob returns to his usual stoic composure. Patricia dives back into her documentation with renewed vigor .

I stare at the pendant, its familiar weight suddenly feeling like a burden I can’t bear to carry but can’t bear to abandon. “If you don’t want me taking it…” I murmur, then an idea strikes me.

Moving to the ornate wooden chest near my window, I lift the false bottom—a hiding spot I discovered weeks ago. The Heart settles into the hidden compartment with a soft click , like it belongs there. Safe. Protected. Waiting.

But the wrongness doesn’t fade. If anything, it gets stronger.

I finish packing in a daze, my shadows clustering closer than usual. Something’s missing. Something important. But every time I try to focus on what, the thought slips away like water through my fingers.

The sanctuary’s courtyard buzzes with departure preparations when I finally make it downstairs. Horses stamp and snort, their breath misting in the morning air. Warriors check weapons and supplies with practiced efficiency. Everything looks normal.

So why does it feel like I’m forgetting something crucial?

“There she is,” Aspen calls, his relief obvious. “I was starting to think you’d decided to stay behind.”

“Never.” I force a smile, shouldering my pack. “Just had some… packing complications.”

Torric glances at my bag, then at the shadows clustering around my feet. “Let me guess. Your personal army decided to help?”

“Something like that.”

Kieran approaches, his golden eyes scanning the group with military precision. “We leave now. The northern routes won’t stay clear much longer. ”

“Right.” I look around the assembled riders, mentally checking off faces. Kieran, obviously. Aspen and Torric, mounted on matching bay horses that somehow suit them perfectly. Malrik on a sleek black mare that seems to absorb light. A handful of Kieran’s most trusted warriors.

Everyone’s here. Everyone’s ready.

So why does the courtyard feel… empty?

“Problem?” Malrik asks, noticing my hesitation.

“No, just—” I shake my head, trying to dislodge the nagging sensation. “Just making sure we have everything.”

Mouse chirps from my shoulder, but it sounds strained. Worried.

Patricia’s note-taking becomes increasingly frantic, her shadowy form darting between the horses like she’s conducting some kind of invisible census. Bob maintains his guard position, but there’s a tension in his stance that wasn’t there before.

They know something I don’t.

“Kaia.” Kieran’s voice carries a note of impatience. “Mount up.”

Right. The horse situation.

I approach the large bay gelding they’ve assigned me, trying to project confidence I absolutely don’t feel. Horses are big. Horses have opinions. Horses can sense fear, and right now I’m pretty sure I smell like a walking anxiety attack.

“Easy,” I murmur, reaching for the reins.

The horse snorts, eyeing me with what I swear is judgment.

“She’s fine,” Aspen says, moving to help. “Just needs—”

The wind shifts.

Not weather wind. Magic wind.

The air thickens, charged with power that makes my shadows ripple and my skin prickle with recognition. Above us, something moves across the sun—large, graceful, impossible.

Wings.

“Holy shit,” someone breathes.

A massive winged horse descends from the sky, coat black as midnight, eyes the same violet as mine. Power radiates from her in waves, ancient and wild and somehow familiar.

The moment I see her, memory crashes over me like a tide.

My parents, their hands guiding mine as I stroke a smaller version of this magnificent creature. “She will wait for you, little star. Until you’re ready.”

“Enif,” I whisper.

She lands with impossible grace, folding wings that shimmer with starlight. When she kneels before me, the gesture feels like a coronation.

“A Valkyrie steed,” Kieran breathes, his composure finally cracking. “They were supposed to be extinct.”

“Apparently not,” I say, reaching out to touch Enif’s muzzle. She’s warm and solid and real, and the moment our skin makes contact, something settles in my chest. Like a piece of myself I didn’t know was missing finally clicks into place.

Mouse purrs approval, rubbing against Enif’s neck like they’re old friends. My other shadows cluster close, their earlier agitation replaced by something that feels almost like relief.

I swing onto Enif’s back, marveling at how right it feels. Her wings spread slightly, catching the light, and I can’t help but grin.

“Show-off,” Aspen mutters, but he’s smiling.

“Says the man with the magical ice powers,” I shoot back .

Torric shakes his head. “At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore.”

“We should move,” Kieran says, though his eyes linger on Enif with something like wonder. “The longer we delay—”

“Wait.” The word slips out before I can stop it.

Everyone turns to look at me. I scan the group again, that nagging wrongness finally crystallizing into something I can name.

“Where’s Finn?”