After all this time, it was strange standing before the portal to judgment and the Other Realm. Dycidium.

Remiel's grip tightened on my hand as I walked closer. We kept our steps slow and cautious as we circled the ravenstone arch. Beyond a prickling sensation between my shoulders, there was nothing here that suggested this was anything more than a random archway in the middle of the woods. An archway that led to nowhere but the other side of our grassy clearing.

"This is it?" I asked, willing it to change into something a little...well, more.

"I imagine it must be a sight when it's lit," Remiel suggested. He dropped my hand and peered around the sides. "Do you think the flames went around the ravenstone or filled the center?"

I stepped closer, raising my hand to reach through the open middle. Bits of that night flashed through my mind, but I couldn't recall where the flames originated. By then, Mara had pulled the fire into her.

"Morana, don't!"

He snatched my hand away just before it slipped into the space between and pressed my palm against his chest. His heart thundered beneath my touch, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but black pupils ringed in a sliver of gold.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

"The portal is closed."

Remiel huffed and pressed his lips together as he fought for control of himself. "You carry the blood of the Fyrbyrd and the Shadow King. Who knows what paths might open for you. Don't do that again."

Drawing my hand away, I glared at him. "Don't order me about."

His brows knitted together, and he drew his shoulders back as he stepped closer to me. "Don't act like a foolish little girl."

A gasp escaped me. "I cannot believe you just said that."

"And I cannot believe you–"

"Oh my gods," a sultry feminine voice groaned. "What have I done to deserve this? So many sun cycles have passed since I've heard another voice besides my own, but I think I preferred the silence over this bickering."

When Remiel pulled me to him, I didn't fight him. Together, we turned to find the speaker leaning against a tree and picking at her nails. Though the shadows obscured her features, the ripples of amber light moving under her skin confirmed her identity.

"Mara."

She raised her head. Fiery eyes met my own. "Is that my name?"

"Yes. Mara Bedisa, princess of Araphel," I said, straining against Remiel's trembling grasp.

There were so many things I still could not remember, but flames or no flames, I knew those eyes. A surge of love swelled in my heart. Until this moment, discovering all these things about myself had felt almost as if I was learning about someone else's life. But with her in front of me, it suddenly became very real. I knew I had looked into them a thousand times and had found comfort, love, and laughter.

None of that was there now, but I hoped it could be again.

Mara clicked her tongue against her teeth and pushed off the tree. Her curly hair hung to her hips, and when she stepped into the light, I realized she wore nothing but her curls and ash. Slashes of red appeared on Remiel's cheeks, and he roughly cleared his throat. If Mara was aware of her nakedness, she did not show it.

"Princess." She wiggled her slender fingers in the air. Wisps of smoke curled from the tips. "That sounds mighty impressive, but if I am a princess where is my crown and my castle?"

A shimmer passed through the middle of the arches, and I swore I saw the outline of a figure. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, but not fast enough for Mara to miss it.

With a screech, she whirled around and struck the archway with her fist. Flames spurted between her clenched fingers, and wherever it touched the stone, the stone glowed. My ears rang, the air vibrated, and that place in my chest where my Song slept awoke.

"Morana, do you feel that?" Remiel asked, pointing toward the woods, though there was no need. My attention had swung there immediately.

"A soul."

It materialized then. A vague, wavering figure of a young Sprite. There was so little left of her. I suspected she had died in the first fires over a decade ago. She must have been powerful indeed to manifest a corporeal form after so long, and that knowledge awakened something else in me. Something darker than the Death magic.

Mara struck the archway again, feeding more flames into the stone. This time, the center turned darkly luminous, and the little sprite soul did not hesitate. She bolted out of the woods and through the clearing, giving Remiel and me a wide berth. A euphoric cry sounded from her lips as she passed through the portal.

Remiel released me suddenly, and metal sang in the air as he pulled his scythe free. He spoke the ancient language, its syllables like silk against my eardrums as he spun his weapon. The blades glowed with a blackish purple hue, and a Song no one had to teach me poured out of my mouth. When the last note faded away, four souls separated from the blades and followed the path of the sprite. The last was not so joyful, but this close to the portal and compelled by my Song, he had no choice but to enter into judgment.

"Moranthia."

My mother appeared on the other side of the archway. Blackness stretched far beyond her, but she looked just as she had in my last memory of her. A nearly identical likeness to the daughter that now sat on her knees in front of the portal, rocking and sobbing as flames licked across her skin. We were three yards away, but the heat was blistering.

"What do we do?" I shouted.

There was no time for fond greetings. Mara was moments from igniting, and while the woods around the portal appeared immune to the ravages of her fire, I doubted Remiel and I would be so lucky. This close to the source, even his shadows could not save us.

I never heard my mother's answer. Without Mara's flames fueling the portal, it winked out again. Remiel spun me around to face him.

"You have to flee."

"No!"

He shook his head. "Use your shifting powers. Become a bird. Whatever creature that can take you away from here fast enough to escape the destruction."

"I will not leave you!"

His fingers dug into my arms hard enough to bruise. "What is the purpose of both of us dying? I am expendable. You are not."

"Don't say that."

Sweat dripped down our faces, and it became hard to breathe. Not just because of the heat, but because of the sudden swell of fear I was too weak to banish. Every nerve in my body remembered the pain of burning.

"I can't leave you."

"You have to."

He cupped the back of my head and crushed his lips against mine. I held onto him, and the fear abated. Remiel would always be my safe place.

"Go," he begged, the single word a whisper against my mouth as he pressed his forehead against mine. "Please."

"Don't ask this of me. W-we only just found our way to each other."

"In this life, yes. But our souls will always find their way back to each other. I will find you again, princess. In the next life and every one after. But to do that, you have to live now and restore the portals."

"Remy...I can't do it alone."

"You won't be alone." It was so hot. His damp hair matted against his forehead as he looked down at me. "You'll find Astreia. She is as much a part of you as I am."

Refusal once more formed on my tongue, but a sudden rush of cool air stole it away. Remiel and I gasped in unison as Mara ripped us apart. Where her fingers touched my skin, blisters bubbled up.

"Mara, please," I hissed, clawing at her hand to remove it. My knees buckled from the pain, and her grip only strengthened, driving me to the ground.

"Let her go," Remiel snarled, his black shadows curling around him as his blade appeared in his hands.

My sister took an unsteady step backwards. Almost as if she feared the darkness. I tucked that detail away for later use and prayed there would be a later.

"This is all very touching," Mara said, throwing out her free hand and creating a fiery barrier between us and Remiel. "But I grow bored. That was worse than the bickering."

"If you let us leave here, we won't bother you with our bickering or–or anything else," I sputtered. If we could only leave and come up with a plan, we might stand a chance.

"No."

"Mara."

She pinned me in place with her flaming eyes. They flickered toward my fresh burns. So red and angry against the faded white scars. Something like guilt twisted her expression.

"Fine."

"Thank y–"

"He can leave," she said, cutting me off. "You're going to stay with me."