I reappear in the forest glade where I had slaughtered a young paladin so recently and yet so long ago. I still see his face, clearly, vividly. But I am left no time to dwell on anything much as Fal gathers his manna and abruptly teleports to me.

  I don’t want to see his stricken face, or hear him call my name. I don’t need my resolve crumbling.

  Before he can even finish reappearing though the dimensions, I am off again, stepping into the in-between and emerging someplace else. I’m in the east, I think. The place is beautiful, if barren. Brown stone atop jagged cliffs that rise high above a crashing sea. It’s loud here, and the air tastes salty, but I have no time to enjoy the place before I have to teleport again with Fal right behind me.

  I lead him on a merry chase, flashing through locations with the ease that the magic of the marble affords, often doubling back, as his manna drains and he becomes more and more weary.

  I can tell when his manna is depleted enough that he can follow me safely no more. And I stop running. I teleport one more time, reappearing in a dark forest. It’s night, with a moon full and bright enough to cast shadows and a weird half-light beneath the dense canopy of leaves. I ghost my way through the shadows, traveling through the forest as far and fast as I can before Fal gets here. I duck behind a broad tree trunk as he reappears out of the in-between somewhere behind me.

  “Blackbird!” He cries, and I feel my heart breaking at the anguish I hear in his voice, and feel through the twin-bond. “Stop! Please! What— what are you doing? Ava? Please!”

  His voice breaks at the end, but rings out through the trees with no regard for anything hostile that might be around us. He’s about twenty feet behind me.

  “Go home, Fal!” I shout at him over my shoulder, around the tree trunk.

  “Ava— why? Please, why?” He’s close to tears, hurt and bewildered. I swallow past a lump in my throat. He takes a step toward me. “What’s wrong? Why are you doing this? I— I don’t understand!”

  “I need some time alone, Falkirk. I need to think. This won’t be forever, but I can’t stay right now. I’m sorry. Go home.” I tell him, mustering some harshness into my tone.

  “Blackbird— please!” His voice breaks again. So does my heart. He comes closer.

  “You have enough manna for only one more safe teleportation. Anymore, and you risk death. Whereas, I can do this for as long as I need to. Don’t come any closer. Go home, Falkirk. Please. Don’t come after me. Just leave me alone for now. I’ll return when I’m ready.”

  “Ava—.” I feel his mind questing for mine, seeking entry, seeking understanding. But I shut him out, mercilessly. And I don’t open up.

  “Do it, Falkirk! Stop worrying about me. I’m not a child.”

  “Ava, please!” My brother pleads, and I’m hard put not to go to him. Instead, I say not another word. Merely teleport once more, back to the forest glade and the cairn.

  I feel Fal’s fear and grief and anguish almost as acutely as if it were my own. It’s not that he’s deliberately pushing it through our bond at me. He doesn’t need to. That’s how strongly he’s feeling it right now. And I hate myself for the pain I’m causing him.

  He gathers his manna and teleports once more; I feel him land back in North Keep. I breathe a small sigh of relief that he’s done as I said. I don’t know what I would have done if he had followed me again.

  The forest is peaceful here, but the peacefulness fails to penetrate to my soul. I want that peace. I need it.

  Thasron was right. I seek for peace and do not find it. I am denied it.

  But there is no anger at this denial. To my surprise, my deep anger is mostly gone. Taking its place is a deep remorse that sucks at me like quicksand.

  I look around the forest, gaze at the stream that’s maybe a little more cheery than normal, and I take a deep breath. Shove that sorrow down where I shove everything else. I sink to the grass beside the cairn and lean back against the rough stones. I can see that poor paladin’s face in my mind. The faces never leave me and, here, in the place of his death, his visage refuses to be ignored.

  Well, if he won’t leave me be, might as well not shove him away. Might as well own this. I can never escape it, after all.

  I close my eyes and study the paladin’s face. He was a handsome fellow— pleasant to behold, but not eerily so. He had green eyes.

  Callis’s face floats into my mind alongside the paladin’s. Despite her being the most recent death I’ve witnessed, the paladin’s face is just as vivid as hers. I study them both for a minute, side by side.

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  And then my breath stills and my eyes open wide.

  No. It can’t be.

  But it is.

  In their faces, there is a distinct resemblance, a likeness too profound to ignore.

  "You had my family murdered."

  Callis and the paladin had been siblings.

  They’d been siblings!

  Just like Fal and me.

  I tip my head heavily back against the cairn and cover my face with my hands, breathing fast and hard.

  What have we become?

  The question echoes in my mind, and I shy away from the answer.

  But then I berate myself for being such a coward. There is one way I can know the full weight of what I’ve done.

  I can open the door in my mind.

  Slowly, hesitantly, I pull open that door. Then my eyes fly open, wide, as the door bursts open with all the force of my victims behind it. Searing pain, countless faces, and a multitude of screaming voices all fill my mind. My breath stills, and it’s only with an effort that I am able to drag more air back into my lungs.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and clasp my head tightly in my hands.

  I need this to stop.

  It’s too much.

  It's too much.

  It's too much!

  I utter a choked cry as I struggle to shove every face, every voice back behind that door, struggle to close the door again. And I do it, eventually. I slam the door closed once more and lock it securely. But it’s lost its integrity. It’s bent and warped and no longer fits in its frame. Faces can leak out. The voices cry louder. They’re harder than ever to shut out.

  I need someone by my side next time I open that door. Someone who can draw me back, who can keep me from drowning in… everything.

  That’s if I ever open that door again. I sigh again. Massage my temples with my fingertips. My teeth are sore from clenching my jaw. Despair swirls around me, and I struggle to master it.

  Thas was more right than he’ll ever know. There will never be any peace for me.

  There might be, something inside me whispers. Daniel and his friends have peace, somehow. Thas found peace. Somehow.

  I know where they would say they found their peace. They would say they were given it. They would say that Elhim had given it.

  I drag my hands down my face and let them drop to my lap. “If— if you’re there, please— please answer.” I whisper to the air, feeling self-conscious and slightly silly. I pause, listening.

  There is no answer.

  “I know you’re real. I know it. Daniel would— would say that you would forgive me, would give me peace. Please.” I pause again, holding my breath, listening for something. Anything.

  Nothing. The forest is still, silent, not even stirred by a breeze. The only sound is the stream behind the cairn and me. I curl my fingers into fists, digging my nails into my palms, trying to anchor myself with the pain. Despair wells up in me and threatens to overwhelm me.

  “I knew it.” I mutter. “This is pointless.” After a minute I rise and shove the despair down again. I welcome the numbness that replaces it. I begin building a fire pit.

  If I’m going to spend a considerable amount of time out here, I might as well make the most of it.

  I spend four days or so in the wilds. Alone. It’s… an unexpectedly blessed reprieve. I enjoy it. I feel Fal’s hurt and fear and anguish over my actions, but I ignore him as best as I can.

  I forage for what I need to survive, mainly meat. I have everything else I need in my bottomless pocket. I fish in the stream by the cairn, and I sleep in snatches in the trees. My sleep is light and sporadic, and I am tired when I wake, but I am unwilling to succumb to a deeper slumber. I cannot risk being caught off guard.

  By anyone.

  I spend my time thinking, searching for answers, my thoughts whirling round and round without end. Trying not to avoid my problems while trying to avoid my darkness and shame.

  Most of my anger is gone. It’s no longer there to be summoned forth. The bitterness is… fading. The pride is a wall to hide behind when things become too difficult.

  But peace continues to elude me, and after a while I know only one answer to one problem among all of them.

  I know who would never ask me to kill.

  I know who holds some answers, even ones I don’t want to hear. Some answers I don’t understand.

  I know I have a promise I should keep, because without my word, without my honor, I am nothing.

  I am going back to Daniel.

  Fal will not be happy, I know. But… Fal… is….

  I sigh. The whole situation is complicated, more so than I’m willing to figure out right now.

  I only know I need…

  I sigh again, heavily, puffing out my breath hard enough to blow stray strands of hair off my face. I don’t know what I need.

  But my decision is made. I dig my slate marble out of my pocket, hold it up and watch as its dark grey hue absorbs the sunlight. I remember the spell Daniel placed upon it, an exact replica of my brother’s.

  Doubt swirls within me as I gaze at the small, round bit of stone. Before I can think too much and talk myself out of my choice, I clench the marble in my fist and whisper the name of the man I love.

  “Daniel.”

  And the world fades to white.