Page 24 of All the Wandering Light

It was so unexpected, and so painfully cold, that I screamed again.

“Helpful, Lusha,” the nearest voice said.

My eyes flew open. Tem’s face, drawn with worry, gazed down at me. Lusha was behind him, crouched at the foot of my bed. She looked more wary than concerned. In her hand was a bowl, empty now.

“What happened?” I demanded, gazing around desperately. I was back in the tent, but how? Was I safe? Was I me?

“You had a nightmare,” Lusha said. “You attacked Tem when he tried to wake you, so I did it myself.”

I stared at her. “How?”

“Would you like another demonstration? I can get more water.”

“No, how did I get back here?” I stood quickly, and just as quickly fell over as my vision swam. “I was in the Nightwood.”

“Kamzin—” Tem began, but I was already pulling on my boots. I staggered out of the tent.

Dawn drenched the scattered clouds in oranges and pinks. Fat snowflakes drifted down, catching the light like flakes of gold.

My relief was overwhelming. I was where I was supposed to be. And yet I knew with an awful certainty that I had just been somewhere else.

I gazed down at my hands. They were mine, familiar and stubby-fingered, but for a few moments, they had been someone else’s. I knew those hands well—the fingers long and aristocratic, except for two on the left hand—

Mara sat beside the fire, oiling one of the dragons, who crooned and preened in his lap. He glanced at me, his face illuminated by the flickering green light.

“Bad dream?” he said, in the sort of tone you would use with a tiresome child.

“River,” I murmured. “That was River.”

Mara’s expression changed. “River was here?”

I didn’t reply. I was still gazing at my hands, though I no longer saw them. How was this possible? Had River cast a spell on me? I thought back to the last time I had seen him, cloaked in magic on the summit of Raksha. Why would he do that?

“She said she saw River,” Mara said to Lusha, who had followed me out of the tent.

“Not here. He was in the Nightwood,” I said. “At least, I think so. He’s looking for something, something his brother thinks can destroy the Empire.” I thought back. Unlike a dream, the memories remained perfectly intact. “A fallen star.”

Lusha’s furrowed brow was almost a mirror image of Tem’s. “What in the name of the spirits—”

“I wasn’t dreaming,” I said, silencing her with a frustrated gesture. “I saw his thoughts. It’s like I was watching from—from behind his eyes. I can’t explain it, but it was real. I know what they want. The witches.” My mind raced frantically. My heart felt ready to burst through my chest. I felt terror, certainly—but with it came a dark excitement. Because I knew now what River wanted.

And that meant I could take it from him.

I saw River saving my life. I saw him laughing by the fire. I saw him abandoning me on the summit of Raksha. I could take the star and prevent him from hurting anyone. From hurting Azmiri. For a moment, I wasn’t certain what I wanted more: to take the star from River, or prevent the witches from using it. They were the same, and yet they weren’t.

“We have to head north,” I said. “We have to find the star before the witches do.”

They all stared at me. A long moment passed, during which the only sounds were the hiss and pop of the campfire.

Mara spoke first. “She’s lost her mind. That creature—it’s done something to her.”

“This has nothing to do with Azar-at,” I snapped.

The fire demon, perhaps responding to the sound of its name, appeared at the edge of my vision. It could have stepped out from behind the tent, or simply summoned its wolfish shape from the air. It settled on its haunches, tongue lolling, ember eyes taking us in.

“Go through it again,” Lusha said, “slowly. In your dream, you saw River’s thoughts?”

“It wasn’t a dream.” I had to restrain myself from shouting. “He’s looking for a fallen star in the Ash Mountains. I don’t know what it does, only that it’s powerful. I guess it can be used as some sort of weapon? His brother wants it—I think his brother is their emperor.” For as long as I had been alive, the witches’ ruler had been named in fireside tales as the shadow empress, a creature made of bones and darkness. But now, if my vision had been true, River’s brother had taken his mother’s place.