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When Quincy’s jaw dropped over the unexpected, playful dig, Saraqael winked at him. Then he looked back at Sophia and said, “It warms my heart to see the two of you together. Please allow me and your grandmother to congratulate you.”

The words had the invisible band of emotion around Quincy’s chest easing. While he had never expected to have the chance to ask his friend’s blessing, it was a relief to have it.

“Oh,” Saraqael continued. “I also thought you might like to know that your great aunt has blonde hair.”

That had Sophia’s eyes widening. “She does?”

“Yes. Your grandmother was not an only child, after all.”

Quincy blinked in surprise. Before he could pursue that, Saraqael turned, crossed his right arm over his chest and bowed.

“
Archigos
Ini-herit,” he greeted. “Thank you for all you have done to protect my legacy. I know that above all others, you have sacrificed the most to be here right now.”

The elder lifted a chin in response, his expression revealing nothing.

Then Saraqael turned his gaze to C.K. “Clara Kate…my love’s namesake and my firstborn grandchild.”

“That’s me,” she managed.

“Your part in this journey has not yet begun, but you have done whatever you could to aid your cousins in theirs. I applaud you. You make all of us proud.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyebrows lowering in confusion. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

“Of course I do.” Here, he turned somber eyes to Tiege and Zachariah. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

The words fell like hammer blows, causing everyone to grow quiet. Quincy couldn’t think of a thing to say. Their failure to save Tate and Ariana weighed heavily on all of them.

“Loss?” Sophia echoed at last. She looked up and caught Quincy’s gaze. He shook his head.

“Yes, of course,” Saraqael replied. “Tate—”

“Isn’t dead,” Sophia interrupted. “I know the scent of death. Her blood didn’t carry it.”

Saraqael briefly bowed his head in acknowledgement before saying, “I was only going to say that Tate and Ariana are lost to you…for now. But you must get to them soon. Eirik will begin to piece together what the scroll contains and realize how much more of a role all of you will play in this.”

Quincy’s head reeled as he continued processing the fact that he was standing there having this conversation. Still, his voice freed up enough to ask, “Do you know what the scroll pieces say?”

“I know what the piece contained here says, but I do not know the location of the last piece.” Saraqael once again smiled. “
Archigos
Ini-herit’s map will help you find that one.”

They all looked at the Corgloresti elder, who shrugged.

“The one you wear around your neck,” Saraqael added.

Reaching under his shirt, Ini-herit pulled out the medallion he wore. Quincy had seen it many times. It contained a series of etched images in a variety of colors, resting on a silver background. None of it looked much like a map to his mind, but then again, he hadn’t known to look at it in that light.

“You might have been willing to have the location of the scroll piece erased from your mind, sir,” Saraqael said, “but you were smart enough to give yourself a backup plan.”

Clara Kate nodded, clearly not surprised. “Okay. How do we read the map?”

“That, I cannot say.”

Frowning, Tiege asked, “What did the scroll piece contained in this library say?”

“I will recite from the beginning that which I know:

“Should time and Fate both dictate

That nine Elders become eight

Let not their power and sway

Fade like the light of the day.

~ - ~

By this scroll may power flow

So another’s skill may grow

And from eight will one become

Mightier than anyone.

~ - ~

To unfurl the force herein

Eight journeys must now begin;

Once separate and undefined

Different paths somehow align.

~ - ~

One most pure in blood and soul,

One with too much self-control,

One conceived of age and might,

One who dwells ‘tween dark and light.”

As Saraqael recited the scroll, his gaze moved among them line by line: Quincy. Ini-herit. Clara Kate. Zachariah. When he stopped speaking, he waited for them to look between each other while they absorbed the meaning of the words.

After a moment, Clara Kate cleared her throat. “You’re saying that we’re all part of the eight needed to unfurl the scroll’s power?”

Her voice was thin, as though she had trouble accepting the words as they left her mouth. Quincy could hardly blame her. Even having been prepared for this by the guesses posed by Malukali and Knorbis, it still blew him away. But the scroll’s descriptions did fit. He was also willing to bet his right arm that the last scroll piece would describe Sophia, Tate, Tiege and Ariana. Their fates had been unavoidably woven together from the moment Nyx first snatched Tate out of the sky and carried her to Zachariah as a gift.

“Yes,” Saraqael replied. “You must get to Tate and Ariana as soon as possible.”

They all exchanged looks. There had never been a doubt about that, though the question remained how they would ever find them. Metis could have transported them anywhere on the plane with her new ability.

“My time is done, and I must go,” Saraqael said, pulling Quincy’s attention back to him.

The words were surprisingly less painful than Quincy would have thought, though they did make his throat constrict. Sophia’s fierce grip on his hand helped. When his friend gave him one last smile, Quincy finally got to say the words he’d never really had the chance to more than forty years ago.

“Goodbye, my friend.”

No one spoke as they once again defied the rules of the Elphresti and took flight inside the library. Zachariah was sure to get in trouble for the destruction he caused, but they had much bigger things to worry about. First and foremost, they needed to come up with a plan to rescue Tate and Ariana.

They all had a lot to absorb. Sophia now knew she was one of the eight beings meant to somehow activate the power of the Elder Scroll. The pieces that Eirik currently held might not say as much, but it wasn’t a huge leap of logic to conclude that she, Clara Kate, Tate, Tiege, Quincy, Ini-herit, Zachariah and Ariana were involved in this for a reason. Their connection to each other, rocky and uncertain as it was, had grown over the past couple months. Somehow, every step they had taken up until then felt mapped out…fated, as though it was all leading them to some significant point. Although she didn’t have much evidence to support her deduction, she felt confident in it.

Her gaze continually moved to Quincy. Their interaction with her grandfather had shaken all of them, but him most of all. His expressions had ranged from shock to sorrow to joy as they communicated for the first time in nearly forty years. Now, he looked contemplative.

They all had to come to terms with what they had just been told. It would be up to them to embrace this destiny and do whatever was required to stop Eirik from using the scroll for his own evil purposes. Whether they could then destroy it to avoid this ever happening again was unknown. But Sophia knew they had to try.

When they reached the entrance to the library, Zachariah led the way out. His expression was stony, but she had witnessed the pain he experienced over losing Tate. She had no doubt that he loved her. If his emotional reaction hadn’t convinced her, the ring he wore and the changes to his pairing marking certainly would have.

Obviously, some events had occurred during her absence that she had yet to learn.

When Zachariah gave the all-clear, they exited out the small opening. Sophia looked around as she emerged, blinking against the sunlight. Although the day was fading, the light was still painful on the eyes compared to the energy balls they created below-ground.

She couldn’t believe the carnage. Eyes wide, she watched the Waresti and Derian’s Mercesti moving among the many bodies lining the ground. Enough time hadn’t yet passed for the bodies to begin dissolving into colored sand. The extensive violence exhibited on the field around them had Sophia feeling weak in the knees.

Quincy reached out and put an arm around her. It gave her strength, as did the sight of Clara Kate and Ini-herit hurrying to see if they could assist the injured.

“You have your healing supplies?” she asked.

“Yes,” Quincy replied.

“Then let’s make ourselves useful.”

They spent more than two hours moving from one being to the next, treating a range of injuries as Ini-herit’s silver healing energy glowed. The elder couldn’t heal Mercesti, so Quincy’s skills were highly in need. Sophia had learned enough from him over the years to serve as an effective nurse. She found herself treating almost as many injuries as he did.

Once they made a complete round of the field and did what they could to help, they headed back toward the library. Zachariah and Tiege stood with Derian, Melanthe, Harold and Alexius, consulting over an ethereal map of the plane generated by the Waresti commander. Sophia also spotted Verrell, Alys and Oria among the group and figured they must be strategizing. She wondered why Cleve wasn’t with them.

When Melanthe looked up and caught her gaze as they approached, Sophia knew.

“No,” she said, shaking her head as Melanthe met her and took her hands. “Not Cleve. Please tell me he’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, Sophia. Cleve has fallen,” Melanthe said, her eyes shining with tears. “Verrell had the bodies of our brethren brought into the forest so he could honor them with a brief tribute while we were in the library.”

When Sophia would have sunk to the ground, Quincy grabbed her and pulled her against him. She barely registered it. One thought overrode all others.

“It’s my fault,” she said, the words barely audible. “It’s all my fault.”

Quincy lifted her and carried her away from the others. “Don’t say that,” he argued. “None of this is your fault.”

“He was injured protecting me from Bertram and Tycho,” she said as they stopped and he once again set her on her feet. Tears came in a hot, painful flood. “If he hadn’t been injured—”

“No, Sophia.” Quincy’s voice was firm. He forced her to meet his gaze. “The only being at fault for what happened here today is Eirik. He’s the one who orchestrated all of this. Cleve wouldn’t have been forced to protect you if not for Eirik. Don’t ever lose sight of that.”

She wanted to argue, but his logic was irrefutable. Instead, she allowed him to pull her close, pressing her cheek to his chest as she cried.

Eventually, her emotions leveled out. Anger and determination met pain and loss. She would grieve, there was no denying that. But she wouldn’t let the sacrifices made by Cleve and the other fallen Mercesti and Waresti warriors go unaddressed.

Eirik and Metis would be brought to justice for what they had done, and she looked forward to being one of those who ensured that happened.

Tiege knew the news about their significant losses would impact Sophia, and wanted to help her if she needed it. Once he confirmed that Quincy was taking care of her, he returned his attention to Zachariah.

“The medallion appears to contain some kind of coded image,” Zachariah said, studying the map. “When
archigos
Ini-herit is done healing the last of our wounded, we can better determine what it is. I only got a quick glance at it.”

“
Archigos
Uriel is nearly here,” Harold said. “When he arrives, we can discuss strategy. We are gathering every available Waresti so that we can send out scouting patrols. They might get lucky and find Tate and Ariana before we do.”

Tiege saw that Zachariah had mixed feelings about this. He wanted Tate found, yes. But he wanted the pleasure of killing Eirik himself. It was a conflict Tiege well understood.

“We can assist ye,” Derian offered, looking at Zachariah. “There are many like us. We know how to reach them. Ye’ll find no better resources for information about things happenin’ on the mainland.”

“This is not your conflict,” Zachariah said, his gaze moving briefly to Melanthe. “You have already risked enough. There is no need to sacrifice more.”

“Eirik has your avowed, commander. Is that not right?”

Derian’s words made Zachariah flinch, though Tiege thought he was the only one who noticed the subtle reaction. Whether it was the reminder of his former Gloresti title or the mention of Tate, Tiege could only guess.

“Yes,” he answered stiffly.

“That serves as reason enough.”

Before Zachariah could argue further, their attention turned to the sky. Tiege spotted at least a hundred Waresti…and one pair of dark purple wings. When Clara Kate and Ini-herit joined them, Tiege shared a look with his cousin. They knew that, especially in light of his current mindset, Zachariah wasn’t likely to react well to the arrival of the Wymzesti elder. Tiege couldn’t imagine why Knorbis was pressing his luck by showing up right then.

Then he realized that Knorbis carried Malukali.

When the group landed, Tiege couldn’t tear his gaze from the Orculesti elder. She appeared to be in as bad of shape as Tate. Her face was almost unrecognizable. Bruises, some of them yellow with age, mottled her entire body. Deep wounds covered with fresh scabs lined the backs of her arms. Although her back wasn’t visible, Tiege suspected it was covered in similar lines. Whip marks.

Ini-herit hurried forward. Knorbis continued to hold his wife as the Corgloresti elder used his healing ability to help her. They all watched in silence until the silver light faded. When Ini-herit stepped back, Malukali was fully healed.

She touched the side of Knorbis’ face and held his gaze for a moment. He slowly lowered her to the ground. Then she took a few steps closer, her gaze on Zachariah.