Eyes opening slowly, I thought I might be in a dream. It was a dream I'd had many times in the years since they had taken me from Estrellum. I would close my eyes and pretend to be in my bed in the winter palace in the West Mountains. My mother always left the windows cracked to clear the fireplace smoke from the air, and the breeze would bring in the smells of black pine and hoar frost.

But time was a thief. It had been years since my memory of those smells had been this vivid. I'd forgotten the sweetness of black pine sap and how it made my nose itch. The way it was now, crinkling and twitching, as I fought back a sneeze.

My dreams certainly didn't include a dull, thudding headache that grew worse every time I moved, and...I squinted into the darkness. The window would've been there. Framed by indigo curtains made from Arachni silk that shimmered like my skin.

"Astreia."

I flinched. Yoko was never in my dreams. My lips twisted into a lazy smile. At least not those dreams.

"Astreia."

She sounded panicked. The world snapped into focus as I wrenched my eyes open fully. This was definitely not my bedroom in the winter palace.

A single, small Fae light flickered overhead in the middle of the room. Hands bound by rough rope, I sat with my back against a scratchy canvas wall. They had bound Yoko similarly and put her across from me. A stake driven into the dusty ground kept her from crawling to my side, and from the raw red lines around her wrists, she'd been thrashing against the bindings for some time. However, once she saw I was awake, she stopped, her body sagging in relief.

"Where are we?" I asked.

She lifted a shoulder. "I'm not familiar with the area, but when I came to, we were in a wagon. When someone came to get us, I glimpsed silver mountains in the distance."

"The West Mountains," I whispered, closing my eyes and picturing them as I'd last seen them.

Gleaming argent bases capped by sparkling white peaks that pierced the night sky. My great-great grandmother built the winter palace in the valley between the two smaller mountains: Farah's Fang and Lightsong. We traveled there every year to visit the more wild elves that lived in the passes, and I always dreaded the first hint of warmth in the wind.

And at the top of the highest mountain, Starfyre, Vyta had once burned. Bright enough to be seen from almost anywhere in the country. Bright enough that on clear nights, even those in Araphel could see its shine in the darkness.

"That's a rather boring name for such a spectacular mountain range," Yoko muttered, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"When something is that beautiful, no words will do it justice."

Yoko cleared her throat. "Well, I only got to admire them for a moment. As soon as they realized I was awake, they forced a bag over my head. They didn't take it off until they brought us in here."

I exhaled and stretched my stiff legs across the small space. My boots brushed Yoko's, and she smiled. My echoing smile lasted only a moment as I remembered something else. Someone else.

"Dante?"

"He wasn't in the wagon, and he isn't in here. I'm hoping that means he escaped."

"Escaped..." A sob choked me. "Why was there anything to escape? Why would we be attacked like that? By my own people?"

Never in all my years imagining my return had I thought the people wouldn't welcome me back with open arms. While no place was perfect, Estrellum came close. With very little issues among the different races. Though, now that I thought about it, the last winter I'd spent here, my mother had been stressed over an incident among the Napali. Knowing that the war with Edresh stretched our army thin, they had made a move to take territory from the Cyote, another tribe of mountain shifters.

And the elf who had captured us Napali. If they would act with so little honor during wartime, then it should not be shocking that they had rushed to take power after the royal family fell. The starlight in my skin flared as my anger grew.

"Astreia," Yoko warned, her sea-green eyes widening.

Pain lashed through me, arching my spine until I toppled backward, my skull bouncing off the rocky ground. It only receded when I called back my light. Panting, I brought my knees to my chest, and the tears falling from eyes created muddy tracks down my dusty cheeks.

The tent flap opened. The Napali elf fixed her feline eyes on me and folded her arms over her chest. "Now, now, now. I suppose you thought of escaping by burning your ropes? We spelled them against your starlight."

"You foul beast," I growled, sitting upright. I would not cower before her. "Release us."

Her eyes flashed gold. "What right do you have to come here after so many years and make demands of us? Estrellum needs no queens. We have managed just fine since your mother failed us."

"F-failed you?" I spluttered. "That's absurd. She gave her life to protect this–"

"She gave her life to protect that Vyta. Not her people. We were always secondary."

"Do you know what that portal is? And what will happen if you don't let me go so I can relight it?"

The Napali elf shrugged and rubbed her hand over her bald head. "I suspect it has something to do with the fact that no younglings have been born alive in the last ten years."

"Not a single one?" Yoko gasped, her beautiful face twisting in horror.

The still births had only begun in the last few years in Edresh. Though no new souls would have passed through the portals since it was extinguished, there would have been many that had already passed through. Not all chose a new host as soon as they crossed into their chosen realm. A wise soul was one that waited for the right moment.

"No." A single fang pressed into her bottom lip. "Not a single one. And while we mourned for a long time, we eventually realized it was the way it was meant to be. This world has had its time, and it is time for it to end."

I pulled hard against my ropes. "No, it's not. That's why I've returned. I can relight the portal. Younglings can be born again."

At least, until all the trapped souls passed through. If Morana didn't manage to relight Dycidium, we would be right back where we started before long, but perhaps it would be enough to mend the tear between the realms. To stop the monsters from creeping into our world.

"Perhaps we would have once wished for that, but we have accepted the end." She held up her hand to silence me. "But that does not excuse you for your role in the destruction."

"Her role? She was a child," Yoko roared, jumping to her feet only to be brought to her knees again.

"She was old enough. Your mother had started your portal training, had she not?" When I pressed my lips together, the elf took my silence as the confirmation it was.

"What do you plan to do to me?"

"I plan to do nothing but offer you up to your people. They will determine whether you will be punished. Either way, we cannot allow you to roam free and risk relighting the portal. The end is close, and we are tired."

She stuck her head outside and called out. "Calliope. Cleo. Come. It is time."

Two elves rushed inside. From their pointed, black tipped noses and musky scents, I suspected they were cyote shifters. When they knelt to pull out my stake, I spied collars around their slim throats. They were made of a black metal that seemed to tug on the light in the room.

"Listen to me," I said, grabbing the hands of the one closest to me. Freckles covered her entire face, and there was no shine in the brown eyes that met mine. "Those collars...you can be free of them. Free of her."

"We are free," she whispered. "Mistress Mafta has given us freedom from the pain of hope."

"We will greet the last day with a smile," the other cyote shifter said. "And in the afterlife, we will begin again."

"What afterlife?" I demanded, digging my nails into her hands. She did not seem to notice. Not even when blood welled up from the cut. "Without the portals, your soul will be cursed to wander. There will be no ending. Only every day stuck here."

Mafta cleared her throat and put her hands over Calliope's and Cleo's heads. "They know you tell them lies."

"I don't lie. Dycidium is not lit. No soul can be reborn if it does not go through the judgment fires."

"If that was the case, then Estrellum would be crawling with the spirits of all those who have died in the passing years."

"It is not our gift to see them. They could be."

Mafta shook her head. "The Napali can see spirits, and I have not seen them."

"Mistress has not seen them," the cyote shifters echoed.

One of them unstaked Yoko, and we were both dragged into the hazy night. Large black cats prowled the perimeter, and some lounged on branches in the trees. Their glowing eyes followed us as they took us to a platform. And all around the platform were bonfires waiting for the touch of a lit torch.

"What is this?" I asked as we were dragged onto the platform and tied to poles.

Mafta snarled, blackness overwhelming the gleaming gold in her eyes as she picked up a torch. "The only judgment fires you will ever need to worry about."