Page 171 of The Wind Weaver

My eyes bug out of my head. “Yousuppose?”

“It doesn’t change anything.” He heaves an indifferent shrug. “I will continue on as I have for many years. I will rebuild my city, secure my borders, and see my people restored. And, when that is done…”

“War,” I whisper.

“War,” he confirms.

We stand there for quite some time, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, staring at the shattered skeleton of the keep. Saying nothing. Eventually, I close my eyes, slipping into the calm center of my mind. I feel Penn—the thread that tethers us together. Flame and heat, a furl of warmth in the lapping waves.

But…

There is something else beneath the surface.

Another tether, wrapping around my soul. The same, and yet altogether different. Cool and crisp, fluid as water as it falls overthe smoothest rocks of a riverbed. It stretches out beyond the crushed city. Beyond even the confines of the crater. And I know, in the depths of my soul, if I were but to follow it…

I would find myself face-to-face with King Soren of Llyr.

Penn’s arm tightens on my waist.

I open my eyes to meet his.

“Come,” he whispers, brushing his lips against mine—light as a feather, but heavy with promise. “There’s a world to remake.”