Page 138 of Queen’s Gambit

A memory teased at the back of my mind. Something Reynard said a long time ago about Annika and how she’d anchored Ozar, becoming the heart of the kingdom.

My power was different. I couldn’t tether myself to the land, but I had the Vila’s song. That would have to be enough. My wings sprang forth, spraying water into the air as I hovered above the well.

Then I dropped the necklace.

The emerald slowly sank as I stared silently into the water. Will I still be me when my magic disappears? Will Rey and Cinared love what’s left behind?

The pull in my chest intensified until a part of my soul tore free. It hurt, but I welcomed the pain as the fear tore free with it. The craving to warp life, to live, to change, to create, found its perfect anchor.

Now I had to give it direction. So, I sang.

My voice echoed in the chamber. The song of spring grew, the words reshaping the chaotic power. I sang of desert sand welcoming new life, of grass spreading across the steppes like a green sea, of mountain peaks covered by Nivale flowers and of deep valleys where the lilies of the valley grew. As I continued, visions of farmland and grain ready for harvest, of orchards and forests with wildlife flourishing beneath their shade filled my mind.

I gave it my love and my memories—my mother’s orchard and Siras’ peach tree—and the promise that one day I would return.

The well brightened as the heartstone answered my call. As my song rose to a crescendo, I sensed them. The minds of those who prayed to the Songstress, of the dwarves who still remembered their Healer, and of those in the Brotherhood who whispered of the legendary poisoner so skilled she became the Shadow of the King. There were more, many, many more. Then there was the Tangrian officer, who, after losing all hope, dropped to his knees and placed his trust in his enemy.

I was one. I was all. I was the heart of the desert. I shattered once when the greed of a mage ripped me from the land.

Now I was back, and Tangra refused to let me go. Power greater than anything I’d felt before pulled my soul from my body and my skin lit from within, turning more translucent with every beat of my wings. I didn’t resist. I didn’t want to.

Stay with me, Sanika. Cinared’s thoughts hammered through my mind. Think of Reynard, of me. Don’t let it take you.

His loving touch, older than time itself, broke through the madness. I saw Cin for what he truly was. He was the fire that had taken form so this world could survive. A being that rejected power and lived through millennia waiting for the one who’d share his heart.

Please, stay with me…

I took it all—the worship, the admiration, the gratitude—and pushed it into the spell, ripping my soul free. The heart of a Vila pulsed with incandescent magic, and the Aether moved, slowly at first, building speed till I was forced to shield my eyes.

My wings slowed, insubstantial now, as I descended. As my feet touched the cistern floor, my wings settled against my back and disappeared.

I waded back to the edge of the basin, but when I neared the exit, a pulse of magic erupted from the well, so strong that a geyser struck the ceiling, almost drowning me. As I reached for solid ground, a consciousness as old as time thrust into my core, and a commanding voice echoed in my mind.

Stay!

Tangra had awakened. Its essence spread through my veins with every choked sob, every whispered prayer. All of it was trying to anchor me here.

Cinared. We need to leave. Now.

Come to the garden; I’ll land there!

Now I understood the gods’ warning. If I stayed a moment longer, I would never leave.

I ran. My tired muscles trembled and cramped, but I welcomed the distraction as I careened up stairs and down corridors. Faces blurred as I passed them, and I barely registered them. Behind me, Siras shouted my name, but I didn’t stop or turn.

Magic was back in Tangra, and it wanted to keep me.