When the Bond of Compatibility broke, Inna's heart shattered irreparably with it. The pain, the loss was so crushing that it forced her down on her knees, gasping in between sobs, her throat torn open into a scream. Her legs refused to carry her any further, so she crawled the last few paces between her and Arran and sank down next to his body. His long lashes cast dark shadows on his cheeks. He looked so peaceful, as though he had merely fallen asleep. However, when she cupped his face, no breath warmed her hands.

The upper half of Zazi's body swayed above Arran's face, her eyes closed. She said something in a low hiss, but Inna paid no attention to her. Over and over, she replayed the last few minutes in her head. She felt numb, defeated, wrung out like an old, overused rag.

The room grew darker. For a second, Inna thought that the shock had been too much for her brain and she was about to faint. Relief flooded through her; perhaps she wouldn't have to deal with this for a few more blissful moments. Then the screams started.

Clutching Arran's still-warm hand in hers, she turned her head to see what was happening. A massive creature of smoke filled the throne room to the last crevice in the marble floor, spilling out into the night through the stone arches in the right wall. Two large eyes, red like the flames that burned deep within the earth's core, hovered several feet above a paralyzed Rabyatt. The prince's knees buckled, as though he was fighting the instinct to kneel before the god of death.

"RABYATT MARWASHRIM," Onshra's terrible voice boomed through the room. His words shook the ground like a small earthquake. "MASTER OF SOULS. TRAITOR TO THE ORDER OF THINGS. DO YOU ASPIRE TO BECOME A GOD YOURSELF?"

Rabyatt's throat bobbed, but when he spoke, he sounded calm and rational like always. "We are the children of the gods, just like you and the other gods are the children of the universe. Eventually, children grow up, and then it becomes their job to replace their parents."

Onshra's laughter, devoid of humor, rattled Inna's eardrums. "WISE WORDS, BUT AT THE MOMENT, THEY ARE NOTHING MORE THAN HUBRIS. MANKIND IS NOT READY TO TAKE OVER."

An enigmatic smile played on Rabyatt's lips. "Yet."

To her surprise, Onshra didn't respond. He seemed to straighten up, though it was hard to tell with his intangible form. His gaze glided to the throne, where Inna's father had collapsed into a curled-up, shivering heap, then turned to Inna. When those crimson eyes locked with hers, a hot, smoldering ember flared up somewhere in the hollow void where her heart used to be. The feeling was almost alien, belonging to someone else, someone who had existed minutes ago but who had dissipated like smoke, yet she grabbed hold of it and kindled it until it grew into a hesitant fire.

She stood up, staggering on her feet. Onshra blinked at her.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, PRINCESS?"

She exploded. The wildfire in her chest burned too hot now to stop and think about why the god of death required her to give him orders. "What do I want you to do?" she repeated softly. She bared her teeth in a snarl. "WHAT DO I WANT YOU TO DO? I WANT YOU TO BRING HIM BACK!" She pointed a trembling finger at Arran's lifeless body. "YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME AND I WANT HIM BACK!"

Distantly, she noticed several people back away from her, pressing themselves against the wall. She didn't care.

Onshra watched her. His outline shrunk to that of a man, too tall to be human, before dissolving again into a swirling, dark cloud. The silence oppressed her, pushed down on her lungs and squeezed the air out of them. A barbed knot twisted inside her stomach. She wanted to scream.

"I MEANT: WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH HIM AND HIS KIN?" Onshra clarified, jabbing Rabyatt in the chest with a sliver of shadow. The prince shuddered. "ARRAN'S LAST WISH HAS BOUND ME TO THE ROYAL FAMILY. I AM TO ELIMINATE ANY THREAT THAT—"

"I DON'T CARE!" Inna bellowed. The first tears dribbled down her heated cheeks. A loud, heart-wrenching sob racked her body. She sank down to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

"The Amulet," she heard Rabyatt hiss to one of the other cultists. "Quickly, grab it!"

He was cut off with a choked sound. She blinked the tears from her eyes and stared at the black, solid hand wrapped around Rabyatt's throat. His feet dangled several inches from the ground. While he thrashed in Onshra's grip, his soldiers shrunk back even further, trying to fuse with the wall.

Onshra brought his fiery gaze close to the prince's frightened face. "YOU WILL MAKE A MEAGER MEAL FOR THE HOUND OF CINDERS, BUT YOU ARE ONLY A FORETASTE FOR WHEN THE REST OF YOUR DESPICABLE CULT LANDS ON HIS PLATE."

Rabyatt shrieked. The remaining cultists bolted into the closed-off garden, but since debris blocked the only exit, they were trapped when Onshra's power washed over them. As soon as the dark smoke touched them, their skin melted away until a smoldering skeleton was all that was left of them. The darkness rose over the garden's walls and spread out to the rest of the palace, shrouding the moon and stars. At the speed of a sinister sandstorm, it trekked toward the city.

With Onshra taking up every inch of space within her line of sight, it was difficult to make out any details, but Inna could have sworn she caught a glimpse of dark hair and a face that vaguely resembled a female version of Arran's before the tapestry behind the throne slid back in place. Zazi slithered past and her tail gave a gentle tug at Inna's wrist, guiding her hand to Arran's motionless chest. A thrill jolted up her arm when her fingers brushed the Amulet. Tenderly, she slipped the necklace from Arran's neck and lifted it over her own head.

A strong gust swept through the room. She let out a shuddering breath as a new Haala bond settled in her aura and joined the one she already had with Ezahar. It was done. She had become Onshra's new master.

All around her, the black mist cleared. Bones and ashes littered the marble floor, but the spot where Rabyatt had stood only moments before was clean and empty. Nothing remained of him. Nothing indicated that he had even existed at all. Nylah and Kasmir knelt in front of the throne, shielding their heads with their arms, and they looked up when Inna strode past them. She held her head high, her gaze fixed on the djinn at the center of the room as she descended the dais.

Onshra stayed silent for as long as it took her to approach him. His eyes followed her with a non-offending kind of disinterest that could only exist within a being as old as time itself. She clasped the Amulet so tightly that the sharp points of the triangle left bruised imprints in her flesh.

"I want to make a bargain with you," she declared.

He didn't even blink. "GO ON."

She sucked in a breath of courage. "I will release you from the Amulet if you bring Arran back from the dead."

Now he did blink. Then he closed his eyes, so that the red orbs vanished completely and only shadows remained. "I CANNOT DO THAT."

"Yes, you can." Her voice had an unpleasant, shrill note to it. "You are the god of death. What good are you if you cannot even revive a person whose blood is still warm in his veins?"

The crimson eyes reappeared. "DEATH IS NOT A DOOR THROUGH WHICH YOU CAN WALK IN AND OUT OF MY REALM," he said. "IT IS ANOTHER DIMENSION THAT REQUIRES AN IRREVOCABLE CHANGE IN THE SOULS OF THOSE WHO ENTER IT. I AM BUT THE GUARDIAN OF THAT DIMENSION. NOTHING MORE, NOTHING LESS."

She refused to believe him. "If Death can truly not give, then why does the Amulet force you to grant its owner's wishes? Is that not a form of giving too?"

"IT HAS NEVER BEEN ABOUT THE WISHES, SERAFINA ADELHARI," he replied in that same flat tone. "IT IS ABOUT THE PRICES EXACTED FOR THEM. FOR EVERYTHING YOU ASK OF ME, I TAKE SOMETHING FROM YOU THAT IS MUCH MORE FUNDAMENTAL, SOMETHING YOU CAN NEVER GET BACK."

The strength left her bones. She bowed her head, shoulders heaving. Her eyes stung. "So Arran—"

"YES," he confirmed. "HE IS GONE."

This time when she fell, her sister's arms were there to catch her. She cried against Nylah's jacket, thinking of every moment spent together with Arran, and of everything she still hadn't said to him. Everything she would never have the chance to say. Nylah said nothing, but held her close and stroked her hair.

Something warm grazed her neck. She glanced up. Onshra had extended a shadowy hand at her, and she gaped at it with a blank mind. What did he want from her?

"BUT," he continued, "I CAN GIVE YOU ONE LAST MOMENT WITH HIM, TO SAY GOODBYE. HE HAS NOT PASSED THE GATES YET, SO THERE IS STILL TIME."

Her heart gave a hopeful thud. Rubbing her eyes, she pulled herself free from Nylah's embrace. "What do you mean?"

"I CAN TAKE YOU TO THE GATES AND THEN BACK TO THE LIVING WORLD. CONSIDER IT MY PAYMENT TO YOU FOR SETTING ME FREE."

She considered it. God or not, this was still a djinn she was speaking to, a creature designed for deceit. No matter how much she wanted to accept Onshra's hand and see Arran again, talk to him, she couldn't afford to lose her ability to think over his offer rationally. She mustn't forget that Onshra handled out of self-interest entirely, what with his freedom at stake. "What will happen to my body if I go with you?"

Although it was impossible to read his expression, she sensed a flicker of respect in the way he looked at her. "NOTHING, IF YOU DON'T STAY AWAY FROM IT FOR TOO LONG. YOU HAVE MY WORD THAT I WILL RETURN YOU TO YOUR BODY BEFORE YOUR SOUL DETACHES FROM IT PERMANENTLY."

He had given her his word. They had agreed upon the wish and its price, and the Amulet would bind both of them to it. She glanced down at the triangular necklace. The World Artifacts should never have been created in the first place; they were abominations in every sense of the word. Even if she gained something valuable from granting Onshra his freedom now, it was her duty as a good human being to break the bonds of slavery.

Nothing about Onshra suggested eagerness at the prospect of freedom. He merely stared at her, waiting. He would wait forever for another chance like this, of that she was certain.

"DO WE HAVE A DEAL, SERAFINA ADELHARI?"

She took his hand. The smoke solidified under her touch, though his skin was cold and strangely unstable, like she held water in her hand instead of a solid mass. "Onshra, God of Death, Destroyer of Worlds," she said. "I wish for you to be free."

From where she gripped Onshra's hand, a tingling feeling spread up her arm. Simultaneously, the djinn's contours constricted into the silhouette of a man, the man she had gotten a glimpse of before. The shadows wrapped around his arms, legs and broad torso, turning into crystalline skin as black as ink. His pupilless eyes shrunk into a narrow, chiseled face with a nose and cheekbones so sharp she thought she'd cut her skin if she ran her finger along them. The crown of her head reached as high as his collarbone, which forced her to crane her neck to fully take him in.

Behind her, Nylah and Kasmir gasped and she heard two muffled thumps on the floor as they knelt. Inna wondered whether she should do the same, but Onshra still hadn't let go of her hand and she felt it would be rude to pull away.

The god only had eyes for her. "Thank you," he said with a hint of wonder playing on his features. It was the first real emotion she had detected in him. "At last, I feel whole again. I didn't think ..." His eyebrows drew together. "Allow me to repay my debt."

Unable to utter anything other than a faint moan, she nodded. He closed his eyes and the room started whirling around them, the colors and forms blurring together. A brisk wind yanked at her hair. She heard her siblings cry out to her, but their voices sounded distant and distorted. The constant spinning upset Inna's stomach, so she shut her eyes too and did her best to ignore the nausea while she waited for it to be over.

When the wind finally laid down and Onshra released her hand, she dropped to her knees and spit out the bile that had gathered at the back of her throat. The god waited patiently for her to regain her bearings; she was glad she had somehow avoided being sick all over his polished black shoes.

They stood on a long walkway amid gray clouds. Although the ground was solid beneath her feet, the path's outline never became quite clear. If she looked at it from the corner of her eye, all she saw was more clouds. In the distance, large, black gates rose up in the mist. A lone man stood before them, his way obstructed by three looming figures in black cloaks. The thought of what lurked within the shadows of their hoods chilled her to the core.

She had expected to see a line of people waiting to be admitted into Onshra's realm, but Arran was alone. Maybe Onshra prevented her from seeing the rest, since she was still a living person treading where a living person didn't belong.

Before the god could stop her, she began to run. Her footfalls made no sound on the walkway. "Arran!" she called out to him. He didn't turn around. "Arran, wait!"

He cocked his head, though his back was still turned to her. A phantom breeze ruffled his dark curls. She pumped her arms to go faster. As she came closer, she heard the Judges of Souls pronounce their verdict.

"... that your soul has been deemed worthy of entrance to the realm of the dead."

"ARRAN!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

He spun around, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. She tumbled into his arms before he had the chance to convey his bewilderment. After a short moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her back.

"Inna," he whispered, running his fingers through the long locks of her hair. "Inna. I can't believe—" He cut himself off and leaned back to study her face. "You're not dead, are you?"

She sniffed. "No. Onshra is just doing me a favor."

"Inna, what—"

"Why did you do it, Arran?" she burst out. His jacket crumpled in her balled fists. "Why didn't you just stick to the plan?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "I had to make sure the Cult couldn't harm anyone in Primsharah anymore, least of all you, Inna. Rabyatt was torturing you, and he would've kept torturing you until ..." He sighed. "And my mother. She was out there too."

"But if you had just freed Onshra—"

"It wouldn't have mattered! Don't you see that?" He raked a hand through his hair. "Why would Onshra have stuck around for long enough for us to order him around some more? He might've healed me in return for his freedom, but that's it. Primsharah would still have been under siege."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. There was logic to his reasoning, yet still ...

"You shouldn't have given your life for this." Her voice broke. "Not ..."

"Inna." He cupped her face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. "It was the only good thing I could do. I would never have forgiven myself if I had saved myself at the cost of everything else."

She buried her face in his shirt. Even now, a vague, sweaty scent clung to his skin. She wished she could bottle that scent so that she wouldn't forget it. "This isn't how our story is supposed to end," she sobbed.

He rubbed her back with long, calming strokes. "I know," he whispered in her hair. "I'm sorry."

They stood there like that for a long moment, then she lifted her head and he bent down to meet her lips, fingers tangled in her hair. She kissed him back with everything she had. When his tongue brushed hers, she tasted salt, the wetness of their joint tears. She hooked her fingers into claws and pulled him as close as she could. It was cruel, so cruel that for a few enchanted days, she had believed she had found someone her heart could burn for. Grief dug into her chest and hollowed it out, tore off a piece of her soul and crushed it. She cried so hard now they were forced to break off the kiss, and she leaned against him, shaking.

"I'm glad I got to see you once more," he murmured against her forehead. "Because now I can tell you how madly, deeply, hopelessly I'm in love with you. I wish we'd had more time."

Her head shot up. His eyes were red and swollen, but they were still beautiful. More tears glistened like crystals in his dark eyelashes. With a trembling hand, she wiped them away. "You're such a good person, Arran, with a far gentler heart than mine. Even if you don't see it yourself. How could I not fall for that?"

He cracked his old grin, and her heart cracked a bit further along with it.

"Princess."

Reluctantly, she broke away and looked over her shoulder at Onshra, who stood at a respectful distance on the walkway. His face still revealed no emotion, yet his manner was gentle and less stiff when he held out his hand to her. "I am afraid your time is up. If you want to live, you have to leave now."

Squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears, she squared her shoulders and fortified her heart against the incoming wave of sorrow. One glance at Arran was almost enough to reduce her to a wallowing little shell of a human, but she told herself to man up.

"One day, we'll meet again," he said with a faint echo of a smile. "I'll be most disappointed if you don't have any wild stories to tell me. I hope I at least taught you how to have a good adventure."

Somehow, a laugh still bubbled up past the lump in her throat. "Your teachings have ruined the values of a boring life forever."

"That's the spirit."

She managed to whip out a wet smile for him and his thumb traced her bottom lip.

"I love you," he said. Then he stepped back toward the colossal gates, which opened at his approach. A thick, silver fog obscured the other side, but Arran must have seen something, because she heard him breathe a little sigh of admiration. At the threshold, he hesitated. But he didn't look back and his tall, lean form vanished from view as soon as he crossed into Onshra's realm.

"I love you too," she whispered to the fog.

***

Inna found Nylah and Kasmir at the palace gates, supporting their father between them, facing a noisy crowd of at least a hundred people strong. The palace guard made courageous attempts at keeping them under control, but they were outnumbered. She spotted familiar faces in the crowd, including several students of the School and a few disheveled wives in the Shah's harem. Lubna, the woman with the ability to create portals, waved a dust-covered hand at her.

A small wrinkle appeared between Nylah's eyebrows as Inna joined them. The crowd stirred and the clamor quieted down, turning their expectant expressions to her. Inna imagined what her face must look like: bloated with bloodshot, empty eyes and a snotty nose. To her greatest relief, Nylah refrained from asking any questions about Arran or her trip to the underworld.

"Nobody knows what to do," she told Inna wryly. "With the help of a few brave citizens, sorcerers have managed to extinguish the fire, but half of the city is in ruins and many people have lost their homes or family members. Obviously, our father isn't of much help at the moment."

She didn't say it aloud, but Inna read it in her expression anyway, You're the next in line. This is your responsibility now.

The Shah cast Inna an apologetic look and laid a frail hand on her forearm. Her mouth twitched into something that ought to resemble a smile. "Don't worry, baba. I'll take care of it. And while I'm at it"—her voice grew thick as her stomach made uneasy somersaults—"I have to go tell a mother that she's lost both of her children tonight."