Page 27 of All the Wandering Light

Finally, Lusha said, “Fallen stars convey power over death. The power to kill—and the power to raise the dead.”

“That’s impossible.” Even I knew that life and death were beyond magic. Shamans could wound, certainly, and they could speed healing, but they couldn’t stop someone’s heart or bring back the dead. There were resurrection spells that could, if wielded by a skilled shaman, rescue a life that hovered near death—Chirri used them on clutches of dragon eggs that had been abandoned by their mothers. But even those were useless past a certain point. Some things, Chirri had always said, were bigger than magic.

“No,” Lusha said, “it isn’t. Shamans have raised the dead before—Yonden has traced their stories. Such magics are dangerous and unstable. They were banned long ago, and in the early days of the Empire, it was against the law even to mention them. A fallen star can raise the dead, but they’re not—they’re not right. They’re different than they were in life.”

The hair on my neck stood up. “How?”

Lusha looked at me. “The few accounts I’ve read refer to the process as ‘unspeakable.’ The dead are enslaved by the shaman who raised them, twisted and corrupted. Shamans used them to evil ends, but it’s just as evil to inflict that sort of suffering on the dead.”

We were silent. The wind rustled over the snow—it sounded like distant footsteps. “What would the witches want with a resurrection spell?” Tem said finally.

Mara looked grim. “That’s not a difficult question. Their numbers are greatly diminished since the days before their powers were bound. The Empire has killed thousands of them.”

“Surely they couldn’t bring them all back.”

Lusha was shaking her head. “A fallen star isn’t like a talisman. Their power is difficult to exhaust. They could raise an army. They could destroy the Empire,” she finished, her voice tight, “with one strike.”

I felt frozen, shocked into silence by the horror of it.

“Then we need to do as Kamzin says,” Tem said. “We find the star. We take it to the emperor—perhaps his shamans know a way to destroy it, to prevent the witches from ever—”

Lusha let out her breath in a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “The emperor won’t destroy it.”

“Certainly not,” Mara agreed. “He has sent numerous explorers after fallen stars.”

“Why? Does he want to raise the dead?” I said. “Or does he seek the power to kill?”

“He already has that power,” Tem said. “He is emperor, after all.”

“Fallen stars can grant the power to kill without weapons,” Lusha said. “Without armies. A wave of your hand, and your enemy falls by the hundreds, while your forces remain intact. Imagine it.”

I didn’t want to imagine it. “But he’s never caught one?”

Mara shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”

“But he did catch one,” Lusha said. “Once, over two centuries ago. I helped Yonden trace that story. The emperor used the star against the witches.”

“How? By killing them?”

“He tried. But it didn’t work.” Lusha’s brow was furrowed, and she gazed at the stars clinging to the western horizon as if to center herself. “Something went wrong—as I said, these magics are often unpredictable. Using the star gave the witches a kind of living death—it didn’t kill them, but they were no longer fully alive. In the stories, witches carry magic in their bones, in their blood. That’s why they don’t need talismans—magic is part of them. The spell the emperor cast didn’t take the breath from their bodies—it took what they were.”

It took me a moment to work out what she was saying. Tem arrived there before me. “The binding spell.”

I drew in my breath. Mara looked as if he had been struck. “Then it wasn’t truly a binding spell. Was it?”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Lusha’s expression was dark. “It was meant to destroy them. In a way, it did.”

A shudder ran through me. I had never thought much about the spell that had been cast on the witches long before I was born. It was simply a fact of life. Necessary, and right—a check on the witches’ dark powers. Yet in a way, the spell Lusha described was as terrible as raising the dead, even if the witches’ crimes had warranted the half-life the emperor had given them. Was that how the witches had felt—damaged, not quite alive? Was that how River had felt?

“Then the binding spell could be recast,” Tem said, “if we can find the star.”

“And Azmiri will be safe.” I set my jaw, forcing back my unease. “All the more reason to set out for the Ashes. Now.”

“I agree,” Mara said. “It will be a perilous journey. But surely in this case, risk is warranted.”

We were all staring at Lusha again. She turned to us finally, her face very pale.

“It’s wrong,” she said. “Trapping fallen stars is wrong. All seers understand this. The stars are apart from the human realm. Their power isn’t meant to be held in human hands—or, for that matter, in the hands of witches.”