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I roll my eyes and tug her to keep walking. “Well, since I haven’t had a chance to get to know him, I must say I approve of how slow you’re taking it.”
She nods and goes quiet for a moment. Embarrassment washes over me.Did I say the wrong thing?Maybe I’m being too familiar with her.
“So.” I clear my throat. “What was it?”
She gives her head a little shake. “Right. Yes. Did you hear the hunting horn?”
I nod. “Ellithïm has gotten good at ignoring them. Everyone continued as if nothing happened.”
“That’s actually good. It was all a ruse.”
“What?” I slow and stare at her.
She turns toward me and nods. “It was a ploy to get me to come out in the open.”
My fingers squeeze her wrist. “That sounds bad, Amyrah.”
“I think, well, I think it could have been. Myrzeth—he’s my uncle, by the way—Ow!”
“Sorry.” I pry my fingernails from her arm. “But he’s your uncle?”
A grave nod is the only answer I get.
“That’s . . . whoa. That’s significant.”
“Yes, and he tried to see if I had the same kind of powers as he has.”
“You mean the creepy ones that tease the shadows into submission?” A shiver runs down my spine.
“Something like that.”
I back away, peering at her through narrowed eyes. “Do you?”
Her body pitches forward in a mirthless laugh. “No. But I do have something that could challenge them.” She turns to me, and her eyes twinkle. “Wehna, he threw all the powers of darkness at me, and they broke against me like water on rocks.”
I tilt my chin, trying to make sense of what she’s saying.
“And a sola showed up. Do you want to know the strangest thing about it? He was afraid of it. I saw it in his eyes.” She grabs me by my shoulders. “Don’t you see what this could mean?”
I continue to regard her in dumb silence.
“This darkness doesn’t have to endure. I think ... I think I’m the one who can bring it to an end.”
A skeptical chuckle escapes my throat. “Do you actually believe that, with the fidrélas growing in number by the day, with the undeniable signs that Elyon exists and orchestrates our lives, he has honestly been waiting for you to come along and end this night?”
Hurt flickers in her eyes. Her hands drop from my shoulders, and I regret my words.
She looks down. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
I sigh and grab her hand. “Here’s what I do know. Elyon has definitely given you a gift. Who am I to say how it’s meant to be used?”
Her pale blue eyes find mine and search them, pleading. “I’m not saying all that has been done to fight the shadows until now has been wasted. That place back there—” she motions toward Ellithïm “is a testimony to how powerful small acts of faith can truly be. But maybe he has chosen me for a role in this. And I think he’s shown me he will supply the power to complete it when the time comes.”
I chew on my lip and start walking away—not because I’m angry at her, but because for some reason Elyon keeps dropping people in my life with far greater faith than me. And it’s starting to become more than I can bear. I’ve been put in my place by my five-year-old brother, humbled by the whole hidden community, and gently rebuffed by this new friend—not to mention how I could never live up to the self-sacrifice of my parents. Why does it seem so easy for everyone else to believe, yet for me it is a daily battle to put aside my doubts and fears?
How can someone born in the light be so easily swayed by the darkness?
“Wehna?” Amyrah’s soft touch lands on the back of my shoulder. “Did I say something wrong?”
