Page 308 of Awakened

“The imaginary men in his head,” Caelan answers flippantly. “Who knows.”

“Not now, Vae.” Dax snaps, cutting him off mid-tirade. He’s pacing now, walking back and forth in front of the couch, eyes squeezed shut as he mutters, “The shadow, the shadow, the fucking shadow.”

He stops mid-step and spins, pointing at Vae. “The Light and the Shadow. From the book. I was just asking myself yesterday… who the fuck are the Shadow?”

“You think it’s literal?” I ask, walking over to the couch and sitting next to Vae. “I kind of assumed it’s a metaphor. Good and evil, day and night, light and shadow.”

“I did too,” he replies, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip and resuming his pacing. “What if it’s not, though? What if the Shadow really is just a shadow?”

“It can’t be,” Caelan protests, coming to stand behind us. “There was an actual army in that book. In the pictures, they were fighting other people.”

That sucks all the air from Daxen’s sails, and he deflates.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, but he’s frowning, and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe that.

I lean forward, folding my hands between my knees. “We’re missing something here. It’s like we have all the pieces, but it's not forming a picture.”

I raise my hand and tick off each point one by one.

“Let’s lay out what we know. Idril is something different—something more. Someone with incredible abilities and a mysterious Fated Mate Bond that no one knows about. We’ve got the book her mother left, and proof that her mother’s DNA carried a dormant variation of her active genes, and that her father found her thanks to some random writing his own father found decades ago.”

“I’m just going to say it,” Vae declares, throwing his shoulders back and lifting his chin. “Idril’s the answer to an ancient prophecy, born to lead an army in a war against an enemy we don’t yet know or understand.”

“What army?” Caelan’s voice is rough, and the words are forced through his clenched teeth.

We each glance at one another, but it’s obvious no one has the slightest idea what the answer might be.

At least, I assume none of us have an answer. Until Daxen clears his throat awkwardly, clenching his fists in his slacks as our attention lands on him.

“Whatever it is that’s waking up… Whatever’s waiting on the other side, preparing to come through the Ley lines—the Gate⁠—”

His expression is solemn, and he swallows thickly, like he knows once he speaks the words, he can’t pull them back.

“I think that is her army.”

Chapter 39

Idril

“This one is definitely Lizard Tears,” Branwen mutters behind me as I watch a sparrow made of water form in my palms. It flutters its wings, spreads them wide, and takes off. I count silently, watching it soar through the Chamber, no bigger than a bottle. Its feathers glint in the light above, throwing a thousand shimmering rainbows along the walls and floor.

When I reach eight seconds, the sparrow bursts into a spray of water droplets that fall to the Earth.

Not the longest I’ve kept one going, but one of my most detailed by far.

It’s shocking how natural this feels now that I’ve finally accepted my powers as a part of me. It feels like I’ve gone my entire life missing a crucial part of who I am, and now that I have access to it, I can’t fathom living without it.

“Giant’s Toenails,” Branwen mutters, continuing her inventory. “Oh! This one is totally ‘Strips of a Bandage Used to Patch up Bigfoot’s Leg After he Cut it on a Sharp Rock.’ Suppose that’s too long for this tiny label, though.”

“What in the world are you doing?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder as three spheres of water hover before me.

Without looking, I sense when they merge, forming a panther that—just like the sparrow—fits in my palm.

Shade.

“I can’t go much longer without food,” Branwen replies, setting a jar back on the shelf. “We’re going on four days, Idril. This is hitting critical levels.”

“Four days already?” The tiny water-panther spins, rotating slowly as I admire the detail. Even the tiny hairs inside his ears are perfect.