Half dark—half light.
Just like the twins who started it all.
Though the Richters have finally been stopped, with Dace dying before me and the three worlds gone dark, it’s hardly worth celebrating.
I crumple beside him, throw my body over his. Clinging to the promise of the whistle and wheeze in his chest, while cursing the injustice of a destiny that demands more than I’m able to bear.
His pulse fades.
An ominous gurgle seeps from his lips.
The death rattle.
Won’t be long before it ceases for good.
I lift my face to the sky and release a wail of sorrow so deep, the earth rumbles beneath me, a blast of wind buffets my body, as a shower of hail pelts down from above.
Once again, the joke is on me.
I’m powerful enough to manipulate the elements, but woefully helpless when it comes to saving my loved ones.
I settle beside him, trace a finger across the width of his brow, and remove my tears that spill onto his cheek. “You once said that miracles are nothing more than the truest expression of love.” I press my lips to his ear. “If you still believe that, then feel my love now, Dace. And breathe. Please breathe . . .”
“It was Leftfoot who taught him that.” The voice drifts from behind me, and though I can’t see her, I recognize it as Paloma’s.
She’s here!
I can feel her essence all around me.
Seems my earlier prayers weren’t ignored after all.
“It was Jolon who taught it to Leftfoot. Jolon was a wise and gifted healer. It’s said he shared a direct link to the divine. He worked many miracles, but took credit for none—claiming a healer never works alone. All healings are based on the compassionate help of the spirits, he said. And it’s true. It’s why we are here for you now.”
The moment she says it, I can feel the presence of Django, Valentina, Alejandro, and all the rest of them. Countless generations of Santos ancestors gathered around me, prepared to guide me.
Paloma rests a hand on my shoulder. Her touch so reassuring I return to Dace with a heart full of hope. My hands moving over his torso, seeking a wound. Though it’s not long before I determine that the outside is as perfect as ever. It’s the inside that’s failing.
“The damage is internal. Something tells me it’s his heart that’s failing.” I strain to see through the dark to the shadowy figures who guide me. Though they remain unseen, I can still feel them, and it’s Django who speaks next.
“Daire, my beautiful baby girl. I’ve been watching after you since the day you were born, and I’m so incredibly proud of you. Not only have you faced the very thing I tried so hard to flee—you’ve succeeded in all the places I failed.”
“The only way to heal Dace is to love him.” The voice belongs to Valentina. “Jolon was right about miracles—they’re nothing more than love in action. But you’ll have a hard time working one if you can’t find it within you to love yourself first.”
I swallow hard, reach for the key that hangs from Dace’s neck with one hand, while grasping my own with the other.
“When you curse your destiny, you curse yourself,” Django says. “I’m a prime example of that. But you are the Seeker, Daire. And Dace was so proud of you he gave you the tool that allowed you to take him down. He understood all too well what you would be called to do, and he forgave you long ago. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. Time for you to love yourself. It’s the only hope Dace has, but you can’t give what you don’t have.”
Love myself.
A pretty tall order considering the circumstances.
Still I’m committed to trying, I have everything to lose if I don’t.
My father’s words reminding me of the day I visited Paloma’s grave—when I faced the mountain and rededicated myself to my legacy and the destiny I was born to claim.
No matter what becomes of me—I won’t go down easily. The Richters will pay for the heinous acts they’ve wrought on this town—on my loved ones—on the Lower, Upper, and Middleworlds, which are mine to keep balanced.
From the moment I killed Cade, I made good on at least half my word. Though the three worlds still need to be dealt with.