Despite intermittent entreaty at her door by loved ones and servants, Charlotte couldn’t be coaxed from her room. She missed lunch, dinner, and the next morning’s breakfast, a first if her family ever saw it. Sprawled across her bed, she couldn’t muster the energy to do much of anything besides hug her pillows and twiddle with the soft threads of her blankets. Her every thought dwelled on Micah, accompanied by a million and one fears. He left without a trace yet again, and had not returned.

  Normally, a person’s every behavior could be explained, and Charlotte considered herself an expert. She could read people. But Micah was different, a veritable puzzle wrapped up in a great black shroud. Was he angry with her? Was he sad? She just didn’t know, and he couldn’t talk about it. And it wasn’t that he refused. He just didn’t know how.

  But these things mattered so little. She knew she could have spent the rest of her life trying to understand him, if only he stayed by her side. But now… he wasn’t. For the second time in three days, he left her. As a result, she never felt more alone. The comfort of his protection and friendship had been a haven, and losing it for even a day tossed her into a dark place she hadn’t visited in a long time.

  What if he didn’t come back? Had she driven him away? It was the only thing her mind allowed her to consider. After all she’d put him through, after all the danger she brought into his life… what else could it be? He was a rational person, and any rational person would see that being in her life meant more of the same. Tears stung Charlotte’s eyes every time she thought that way, incredibly painful not only because it was true, but also because she knew it would never end.

  A strong breeze drifted into her room from the open balcony. She looked up and gasped. From behind the long, silk curtains, the silhouette of a person formed, standing on the terrace. The undulating drapes parted for just a moment, revealing the black attire she knew well.

  “Micah,” she said, getting up hastily and smoothing out her dress. She wiped her eyes and stood beside her bed, clutching to the bedpost.

  He came in slowly, pulling the curtains aside as he entered the master bedroom of the East Wing.

  The effect on his senses was immediate. First came the aroma. A symphony of girlish scents met him, florid and rich. As he scanned her incredible room, a large domicile with wood floors and sky blue paint with white trimming, he realized the scents hailed from all different sources. So many diverse smells at once, blended into the essence of Charlotte he had come to know.

  In one corner, an elaborate vanity sat upon a thick rug. Three mirrors were set over an intricately carved table of a deep red wood, perhaps maple. Necklaces and dried flowers were draped over the mirrors, and various bottles of makeups and perfumes waited within easy reach. Charlotte’s Spritlit rested on one of the mirrors, rainbow wings flapping lazily.

  On another side, the wall of her room gave way to glass panes. Morning light filled the room through the open sectional, where a small garden enclosed a space large enough for a marble fountain and a wicker settee positioned to overlook the grounds. The green plants of her garden featured flowers and vines that added an exotic touch. An easel sat nearby, set with a half-finished painting of a sweeping landscape that would surely be breathtaking.

  There were many other striking aspects, which Micah tried not to notice. The room was a painstaking reflection of Charlotte. From the beautiful smells and colors to the feminine touches and homely charms, all of them combined to imitate her very self. And it was painful to realize. Just being there doubled the effort required to accomplish what he now needed to do.

  “Where is your scarf?”

  Micah quickly looked up at her. Her pained eyes made his heart twist, but being in her room, surrounded by her, his gaze had nowhere to escape.

  “I… lost it,” he replied quietly.

  “Oh…” A tear trickled down her face. “Where did you go?”

  “I had to think about some things.”

  “Are you done now?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded briefly. “Micah, I know a lot of things have happened, but they will get better. We’re safe now, right? There’s nothing we have to worry about.”

  “Yes, that is true. And that’s the reason why I chose to make a decision.”

  Her breath hitched. “What decision?”

  He looked away. “I think it’s time… for us to part ways.”

  Micah’s heart rebelled against his body in the silence, threatening to beat out of his chest when he refused to look at her. And the mutiny worked, forcing him to look back at Charlotte. But he immediately wished he hadn’t.

  The sheer devastation was immeasurable. Micah had never seen anything like it. Tears streamed down Charlotte’s face, dripping to the floor without hindrance. Her arms were limp at her sides, and her lips and knees trembled. But her expression nearly reflected nothing, as if she was incapable of responding.

  “You… you… want to leave me?” she whispered in choking breaths. “You’re… going to leave me?”

  “Yes,” he managed to hush, swallowing hard.

  She slumped to the floor and scooted away from him, cowering against the wall. She brought her knees to her chest and buried her head, quietly crying into the enclosed space.

  “Why?” she managed. “Why now?”

  The lump in Micah’s throat demanded nearly all air, but even if that hadn’t been the case, he doubted he would have been able to reply. So he stood in silence, watching her cry and wondering just what on earth he was doing. A voice from somewhere beyond loudly insinuated he was stupid. Yet, it had to be done. This had to end, and they both would eventually realize it.

  Wouldn’t they?

  “When we were traveling together…” she said, lifting her head. “You used to ask why I was always looking back when we would leave a new town. And you would ask about my habit of approaching men or seeking out social places to meet people.”

  Micah nodded. “I assumed you were looking for… well… a mate, or something of similar designation.”

  She nodded wearily. “Everyone always assumes that, but there’s so much more to it. I’ve tried to stop, but I can’t.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking for… the one!” She looked up at him, tears streaming anew. “For the man who would find me. For the one who would love me. Love me enough to save me! I’m not just some unabashed flirt.” She bowed her head again, shivering. “Can’t you see? Don’t you understand what I’m saying? My life is over, Micah. Unless this madness ends… unless I find the love of my life, someone strong enough to protect me, and love me… I’m eventually going to die. Someone will come and take me away. They always do, but this time, Daddy won’t come. And I won’t meet another stranger by chance who will take me away. My luck will run out, and I’ll be alone. So wretchedly alone, and I’m tired of running! I’m tired of being afraid! I don’t want any of this. No more!”

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  She bawled, curling up and wrapping her arms around her legs. “No more, no more,” she repeated.

  Micah didn’t know how to respond, but he never felt worse. The pain was so immense, it possessed a stranglehold on his whole body. It seemed an eternity before she stopped crying, and another lifetime before she raised her head again. Bloodshot eyes met his, pathetic and defenseless.

  “Now you want to leave me, too,” she whispered. “And I can tell you don’t intend to ever come back. Despite my greatest efforts, no one ever came back for me. No one thought I was worth the risk…”

  “Until now,” he replied.

  She didn’t reply. Her expression was strangely unresponsive.

  “Jasper is different, isn’t he?” Micah continued. “He loves you, and would endure everything. You said he was strong, but is that not enough?”

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  “Charlotte, our journey together must end.” He cut her off, realizing the more she spoke, the more it wounded him. “You’re tired of running, but if you stayed with me, you would never stop running. I am a fallen Son. Carnel considers me a traitor, and I have intricate details of not only the Strait of the Final Word, Carnel’s great border defense, but also of hundreds of other secrets entrusted to me. The king will have already organized a group of assassins to pursue me without relent, perhaps the rest of my life.

  “I will always be traveling, looking to find my way. On this mission given to me by God, I will be searching for myself. I am a directionless wanderer, doomed to uncertainty with little chance for hope. But you… you have a chance now. The chance you’ve been waiting for. Jasper Flight loves you. And you can get married, which means you won’t have to pretend to return to Carnel. And you are back surrounded by family who loves you. Regardless of the past, they must still hold your safety true to their hearts. There is much hope for you, even if it’s not apparent at first glance.”

  Her gaze faltered into a tired expression. It was as if she was hearing it, but didn’t like it or want to accept it. Micah hated what he was saying himself, but he knew it was the only thing that made sense. This was the decision he made, and now he had to follow through… for both their sakes.

  He turned his back to her. “I will always be grateful for the things you taught me, but now we must part ways. We became companions by necessity, Charlotte. And being with me is far more dangerous than anything you could choose to do. We both know this. You are my friend, but where I’m going, you cannot follow.”

  “Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?” she asked. “Is there nothing I can say… that could convince you not to go? You’re my… you’re my…”

  Her voice died away, and he couldn’t bear to ask her to finish. His voice was lost.

  Micah could only shake his head.

  She reached out her hand. “Can’t you even look at me?”

  He bowed his head.

  “Goodbye, Charlotte Goodsteel.”

  He quickly made for the terrace again, and with gritted teeth, he leaped over the banister.

  Hours passed. Morning conceded to the afternoon, but Charlotte never moved. Slumped against her bedroom wall, she waded through hazy vision and a broken heart, watching the open terrace. The curtains drifted with the Rypsy breeze, but with each break of the cloth, Micah never appeared behind them.

  How did this happen? She had been so convinced he was happy with her. She had fooled herself so completely, the events that just took place would have never occurred to her as possible. Blindsided, disbelieving, crushed. Micah… wouldn’t be there? He wouldn’t be at her side, waiting and yearning for every opportunity to strengthen their bond?

  Charlotte sniffed, hugging her legs closer. I even began to think he loved me.

  She felt so stupid. Of course he didn’t love her. How could he? He’d just learned of emotion in the first place. He was overwhelmed all the time by common human experience, yet here she sat, confused that he couldn’t fall in love with a troublesome, selfish girl with nothing to offer but a wealth of danger.

  When had she ever thought of his welfare? All the things he mentioned about his future and the hazards to come… she’d hardly even considered. His life was going to be hell, yet she never even asked him about it. She never tried talking to him about his burden. Early on, she assumed he always had a handle on things, and her thinking never changed, even when enemies piled around them.

  But he’s human, like everyone else.

  She squeezed her eyes as fresh tears came in a powerful new wave. “Oh, Micah,” she whispered. “I love you. I love you so much! More than anything in the world. I’m so sorry.”

  In that moment, she somehow remembered the night they arrived in the Twin Cities. It came back to her for some unknown reason, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. She had sung a song for him, and it was the first time she saw the real Micah. The one she knew, beneath the mask and deep inside. Her voice had unfastened his heart.

  Without realizing it, her mouth opened, and she began to sing.

  Bring me to you.

  Bring me to you.

  Micah, my dear, draw me near.

  Bring me to you.

  Send me whispers on the flight of your wings.

  And endless bouquets of dreams.

  But let those all pass, if given one chance

  To bring me to you.

  Bring me to you.

  Bring me to you.

  Micah, my love, sent from above.

  Bring me to you.

  A shadow fell over her, and she looked up. The silhouette of someone standing on the terrace formed on the drapes.

  “Micah?” she cried out, quickly getting up. Hope filled her to the brim as she rushed forward. “Oh, I knew it! I knew you’d come back!”

  A hand parted the curtains.

  Charlotte gasped. The one stepping inside was a stranger, a man she had never seen before. His hand palmed the handle of a blood red sword, matching the plume of hair atop his head. She stumbled back and fell, stunned with terror. The man’s eyes were so intensely dangerous, they petrified her. All she could do was slowly scoot back until there was nowhere left to go, shaking in utter fear.

  “Wh-wh-who are you?” she managed to ask. His shadow consumed her as he approached.

  “I am Osiris, the one who will be taking you,” he replied. A small smile played on his lips.

  “No…” She shook her head. “Not again. Please, not again.”

  “Trust me. This will be the last time.”

  Charlotte managed to activate the Waxing Gibbous phase. Her right eye shone purple, save for a sliver. And when it did, she nearly screamed in terror. His whole aura was filled with bloodlust.

  “You’re going to hurt me?” she asked, cowering as he came closer.

  “Most likely.”

  She screamed at the top of her lungs, shouting and banging on the wall. The villain did not lunge or attempt to stop her. He simply stared at her in amusement as she wailed. But no one answered. Not a soul came running up the hall, and not a single knock came at the door. Then, a horrific thought came over her.

  “Where is my family?” she asked, looking up at him and wiping away her tears. Her heart pounded with dread. “What did you do to them?”

  “Relax, child,” he said. His eyes were so intense, they again fixed her gaze. “They are safe. Asleep and unharmed.”

  “And… and Micah?”

  “Ah yes. The boy warrior Nathanial Vash fears so much. He is gone, traveling north and away from Rypsy with all haste. It appears he no longer needed you.”

  She scowled and activated Heartbreaker. Her right iris split with black and white energy, and all went dark.

  In the emptiness, she quickly found her attacker, the one called Osiris. He did not at all seem surprised by the sudden appearance of her world. He simply stared at her through the void, as if waiting for what came next.

  She slowly approached, knowing he would not be able to move or react to anything she did. When she stood before him, she was able to take in just how large he was. He towered over her with a muscular frame, and his gaze still seemed to penetrate, even in this realm.

  She reached to his chest, intent on finding his heart.

  Suddenly, a bright purple light emitted from his face, and she looked up. His left eye ignited with magenta brilliance, so full and bright, it nearly blinded her. She quickly backed away, but he grabbed her arm and twisted.

  “So this is Heartbreaker,” he said. His voice echoed with livid clout. “A truly wondrous power. But like all others, your power pales compared to the almighty strength of Foresight. However, I should like to thank you for showing me this.”

  The darkness faded away, and Charlotte found herself back in her room. She shuddered again. He completely negated her magic! His power was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  He drew even closer, standing over her. “I am fascinated that I am truly looking at the Moon Eye Child, the person my master talked about so many hundreds of years ago. To think, I used to call him crazy. Tell me, is Lord Kyba truly dead?”

  She bowed her head sadly. “Yes.”

  “Good. Then you have no further use.”

  Before Charlotte could react, Osiris swung his fist, rapping her across the head. She slumped over, unconscious. He reached down and picked her up, slinging her body over his shoulder before walking back to the terrace.

  He looked out over the green landscape with a dull gaze. “It’s time to be done with this.”