It went unspoken for the next several days that Hal was to be left alone. She herself didn't recall saying as much, but she withdrew completely just to be safe. And after a few meager attempts to convince her to eat, to ask how she was feeling, to be told that she had done nothing wrong and that this was common for women, Hal's door finally closed and stay closed. The fire had long gone out, covering the room in a constant, endless darkness.

Hal did not move. At times, she fell asleep, curled on her side and facing the wall. She would wake. And she would stare at the wall in tumultuous silence until she fell asleep again. Sometimes she would cry. Other times, she had to will herself to feel nothing at all.

She had felt this nothingness before. The same sinking sensation that had enveloped her when Denu died. Slowly…but surely.

Slowly. But surely.

She was humiliated. All the fuss they had made over her. All the excitement they had made her feel when she hadn't wanted to. The recently finished letter on her desk to Murtagh with the news that would, now, never be sent. She clenched her pillow tightly, burying her face as she tried to keep her sobs quiet.

Murtagh.

Much of her growing enthusiasm had been in response to what she imagined his would be. How overjoyed and anxious he would become. The dream she had of raising a family with him felt further and further away. What if this was only the beginning? What if this was a sign that this body was incapable of life after all? It was one thing to fear such a concept when it was still a theory. But now…

Hal reached under her pillow, removing the mirror for the umpteenth time. She struggled to sit up, cradling the piece in her lap as she flipped it open. She could use magic. She could reach out to him, beg him to come back. And he would without a second thought. He would return and Hal could cry in his arms and beg him to take her back to Illium. She was done. She was tired. He would do it all if she asked.

Still, she hesitated.

She curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. The idea of facing him…should she even tell him? It was barely three months, and maybe he was better off not knowing the truth. She didn't even know how she would explain it. She was pregnant. And suddenly, for no explicable reason she could make sense of, she wasn't.

Her eyes began to burn again, her chest tightening.

She didn't know how to mourn. She didn't understand her grief. All she knew was that it was there, even if it didn't make sense.

It wasn't long before she was crying again, loud, painful sobs that racked through her entire body. How much more would she have to endure? How much more loss could she put herself through? Surely this was too much for anyone. She wasn't immovable or without feelings. Yet every decision she made or didn't make felt like a test. And in her failure, she had not only sent Murtagh away, but she was surrounded by people who had all but given up. At this rate, Hal would have to resign herself to losing the Sani all over again.

If this was truly all life had to offer, Hal didn't know how much longer she could bear it.

"Oh, Halen. I wish you would not think such things. It breaks my heart."

The memory of soft, wrinkled hands folded themselves over hers. A ghost of an embrace she had not felt in so long. The voice of the one person she wished she could see right now.

She looked up, her memories of Denu already blurring what had once seemed unforgettable. Did he have a small birthmark on his left cheek or his right? Was the thickness of his beard correct or had she thinned it too much? But his eyes still shone as they always had. With indisputable life and wisdom.

"I wish you were real, old man," she whispered. "I wish you were here."

He raised his hand, brushing the strands of hair back from her face, matted from her tears and the pillow since she had not bothered to put it up like she normally did. "I have not left you. Not really."

"You left in the way that mattered most," she threw back. "Everything I have of you now is just memories or wishful thinking. That is not the same."

"I disagree. I think you called me here because you knew exactly what I would tell you had you been able to come to me during such tragic times. You just want to hear what you already know in my voice."

Hal felt her eyes burn with tears of shame, unable to meet his gaze even if he was a figment of her imagination.

"You know I could never love you any less, Halen. You were my whole world. My whole life. And even in your darkest moments of despair, my love for you will be deeper still."

She knew. That unconditional love that had soothed so many heartaches. Her lip trembled but she forced her head up, blinking free more tears as she tried to regain her composure. Then, slowly, she said: "I was relieved." She felt like someone was digging a knife into her chest, but she forced herself to keep talking, fat, hot tears rolling down her face. She gripped the skirt of her dress, clean after she had been forced to change out of the other once she had finally stopped bleeding.

She took a deep breath and pressed forward. "The first reaction I had, when I realized…was relief. Because I wasn't prepared to choose between my life and the Sani. I was so scared that any decision I made would be the wrong one. So when…when I lost the baby, I was relieved, because it took so much weight off my shoulders that I wasn't prepared to carry."

Denu patted her hand quietly, mournfully, but Hal took the encouragement and continued. "But after the relief wore off and reality set in, all I could feel was shame and grief. Shame that I, who would one day want to be someone's mother, was relieved to have lost her unborn child. Shame that, as a woman, I couldn't even do this one, seemingly simple thing. Shame that I would have to eventually leave this room and see all those pitying stares and not know how to react to any of them. And grief, because I feel like I still lost something even if I wasn't ready. I don't know how to make sense of such feelings. And the only people who could understand me in this way are gone." Hal looked up at Denu, sniffing. "I know what you would say. But please…say it anyway."

He smiled, that beautiful, gentle smile that made her feel at home. That made Hal feel safe and loved. She had not forgotten his smile. She had not forgotten how warm it made her feel to behold it.

"You are not a bad person for feeling as you do. You are not less of a woman, less of a wife, or less of a would-be mother for feeling as you do. What you have lost, anyone would be confused, and angry, and scared, and relieved. But at the end of the day, you are alive and physically healthy. You already know Murtagh will not love you any less. The only thing he will regret whenever you do decide to tell him is that he could not be here for you. But do not shut these emotions away like you would have before. Allow yourself to feel it all. Because that is what it means to be alive, Halen. Only when we truly feel the dichotomy of our existence, do we understand what it means to live. We live harder, better, because of it. Although it may not feel like it today, this is not the thing that will break you. And you have not broken yet."

Although the image of Denu had faded, his words lingered in Hal's mind long after. Sitting in bed, head still bowed with her confession and shame, Hal wondered if he was right. Despite his words, she still felt wary and tired and very much broken. Because how could she trust the words of a man whom she had failed to protect as he tried to comfort her over the life she couldn't even carry? She had failed to convince the Sani to leave. Failed to stop Thea. Failed to save Denu. She had simply failed.

Hal laid back down as she felt the familiar surge of tears pushing forward. Her pillow was still soaked from her previous breakdown, but she didn't even care as the fresh tears spilled over. She couldn't even find it within her to hold onto what Denu had said. This would not be the thing that broke her. Yet she already felt broken. Beyond repair. She was too tired from trying and failing and trying and failing. She did not want to try again. She could not face her own failure any longer.

This pain in her chest, in her mind, dragging her down into the deep, murky depths where she found no light or warmth was where she belonged. She stopped fighting altogether, and finally let the darkness that had been weighing on her all this time claim her fully and at last.

…

"Halen, you can't lie in bed forever."

The voice was an unwelcome disruption, and Hal curled up under her covers, glad she slept with her back to the door. "I was having a good dream," she mumbled, irritated at the intrusion.

"You need to at least eat something —"

"I'm not hungry."

"Halen, please."

"There are plenty of other people who need it more than I do. Give them my rations. I don't want them."

Zola hesitated at the door, and Hal could feel her aunt's eyes boring holes into the back of her head. Debating. Hal's temperament had only grown steadily worse, her self-isolation her only companion and, currently, her preferred state of being. No fire, so there was always a slight chill, and she would wrap herself in her blanket. She would cry, she would stare at the wall, or she would sleep. Her food went often untouched and she snapped at anyone who stayed in her room longer than she liked.

And then she'd had her monthly bleeding, returning as if nothing had happened. The sight of the bleeding, the cramps, only reminded her of the hours she had spent lying in bed, sobbing as she passed blood and tissue between her legs instead of what would have grown into a child. It had taken a little over a month for her body to resume its normal duties. A little over a month for her body to act like the life it had been attempting to grow had never happened. But Hal couldn't forget. How could she be so haunted by a life that had never truly come to fruition?

She stared at the wall, willing her aunt to leave her alone. Sometimes Zola did. Sometimes the woman sent Morro or Baldor or Albriech to check on Hal. Zola and Hal were still not on the best of speaking terms. That dreadful argument only followed by the abrupt miscarriage left a tension in the air. What small bond Hal had thought they'd managed to construct because of her pregnancy seemed to have come undone in the very absence of it. Hal felt the loss of that as strongly as she did anything else.

Hal softly heard the door shut, and she instantly felt the surge of tears. She hated this too. The overwhelming desire to be left alone, then the complete fury when they gave her exactly that. Hal didn't know what she wanted or needed to alleviate this ache in her chest. She knew, logically, it made no sense to be frustrated with others. But she was. Because she needed someone to be angry at. She needed someone to blame. And despite her confession to herself that she had not been ready to carry this child, she feared the state she would fall into if she allowed herself to be at fault. If she allowed herself to feel the full extent of her shame.

She heard her door open again and felt both relief and irritation to not be left alone with her thoughts. "Aunt Zola I'm too tired to —"

Hal stared, confusion settling over her. There was no one in her room, although her door was cracked as if someone had, indeed, opened it. Hal rushed to her feet, and threw the door open, expecting to catch whoever it was in the hallway trying to leave.

Instead, she stood face-to-face with a spirit. Her breath caught in surprise, not having sensed their presence or even known there were any here. Just like the Sani, this spirit seemed shapeless. Nothing more than a floating orb of iridescent light.

Hal slumped against the side, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion. She thought of the Sani, trapped to wander close to where they died. It hadn't crossed her mind until now that there would be spirits here, but she wasn't surprised. If anything, she was curious as to why it revealed itself now.

It meandered around eye-level, almost as if it was observing her silently. Drifting ever so closer, Hal could feel how its energy jumped over to her, making her skin tingle and the hair stand on end. And it was warm. As she reached her hand out, she felt its consciousness extend slowly towards her as well, its curiosity almost child-like in its innocence.

Abruptly, it vanished, appearing only moments later down the hall. If it had had eyes, Hal would have felt its gaze on her. Like it was waiting for her. A compulsion she couldn't fully grasp came over her, curiosity mixed with something else she couldn't quite place. She slowly followed after it, it's illuminating glow both helpful and comforting.

They wandered down hallways and down levels Hal hadn't ventured since mapping out the tunnels with Baldor and Albriech. It was so oddly quiet and strange that, for a moment, she wondered if she was actually dreaming. That would also make sense.

Several more minutes passed. Minutes of growing silence and increasing darkness. Almost unlike anything she had ever experienced before. If the spirit suddenly disappeared and Hal was left stranded, she almost questioned if her eyes could even get her back the way they'd come.

Suddenly they were walking into a massive cavern. As the spirit drew closer, Hal could see the dark water that pooled up ahead, a small lake that likely fed into some bigger body of water beyond the mountains. With the lack of air and wind, the surface was still as glass, although the light from the spirit caused parts to reflect onto the cave walls.

Entranced, Hal followed after the spirit as it began to float over the surface of the water. Her first step into the water sent a shock of cold to her system. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before, numbing her feet almost immediately. And something in the feeling made her hesitate. What on earth was she doing?

Light filled her eyes and she looked up to find that the spirit had drifted closer. Right. The cold had been so disconcerting that she had already forgotten what she was even doing here. The spirit began to drift off slowly, like it was keeping an eye on her. Taking a deep breath, Hal braced herself and followed after it, wadding deeper in. As the water crept higher — to her knees, her thighs, her waist, her chest — Hal had a flash of panic. Her mind seemed to suddenly register the impending danger. The way her body pressed forward as if of its own accord despite the pain it was in caused by the cold. Her limbs felt heavy and she was shaking horribly as her head went under.

To be fully submerged in the icy waters felt like death itself. It gripped her tightly, making it impossible to move her arms and legs. Although, she doubted she could if she wanted to. She seemed to simply float there, the spirit hanging above her head, the only source of light as she began to sink lower. Fleetingly, she wondered if she was dreaming. The fact that this scene was the epitome of her darkest moments felt almost too surreal to be anything but. This feeling of being dragged deeper, light slowly fading from above as she was slowly shrouded in nothing more than freezing darkness.

Was she going to die?

The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she couldn't. She still didn't know if she had to die as a Shade would: with a blade to the heart. However, the idea of being trapped here, breathing in water until her lungs filled, was no more appealing. Yet she wasn't panicking or afraid. She was calm.

Too calm.

She closed her eyes, letting her body drift aimlessly. Feeling her chest tighten as her body began to cry for air. For release. But she couldn't move. Her body was no longer her own to control. Had the spirit tricked her? If so, why?

She felt something stirring in the corner of her mind, a sensation similar to when she felt Thorn's presence approaching, although this felt slightly off. Just as she blacked out completely, images began to flash in her mind. Memories that did not belong to Hal but to the spirit that possessed her. Not Sani, but their ancestor. Memories of a time long lost and forgotten and memories of a time only a few years prior. Memories of Thea and what she saw and endured. The secret to her magic that had cost her so dearly but perhaps saved the Sani from early extinction. So many questions Hal had still been holding onto and the answers were now being laid out before her.

But why here? Why now?

Hal's eyes flew open and the sudden panic of being trapped underwater struck her, the strange haze that had entered her mind violently ripped away. She screamed.

Hal sat up in bed, another scream dying on her lips as her door was thrown open, Baldor and Albriech rushed in. She was heaving, having soaked through her nightgown, but with sweat and not from nearly drowning.

"How did I—?"

"Miss Halen, are you all right?"

She looked around her tiny room, brows furrowed in confusion. "How did I get here? The cavern…"

"You haven't left your room, Miss Halen," Albriech confirmed, watching her carefully.

She hadn't? And yet her walk had felt so real, especially compared to the dream right before of being on the beach. "Are you sure?" He nodded resolutely and she shivered with unease. Just then, she spied a small tray of food by the door. "My aunt?"

"Aye, she stopped by not too long ago. Would you like for me to fetch her for you?"

Hal shook her head. "Wait for me here. I have something I must discuss with her first."

"Are you sure you're all right? You look troubled."

"I'll explain everything soon, but I need to speak with my aunt. There's something I must confirm."

She forgot to knock when she reached Zola's room, turning the knob and pushing the door open as if she had been invited in. Zola was sitting in front of her fireplace, sewing something spread out in her lap. She looked up in alarm, her brows scrunching together in confusion and irritation. "Halen what on earth are you doing out of bed? You look ill, has something happened?"

Hal shut the door behind her and stepped inside. "I need to ask you something, Aunt Zola. And I need you to be honest with me."

Zola stared back, as if she were trying to gauge the question from Hal's demeanor. She set her needle down in her lap and folded her hands neatly. "I will not make any promises but I will do what I can depending on your question. What do you want to know?"

Hal blinked and several tears sprung loose, the chilling memory so vivid in her mind. As if it were her own. As if she herself might have just experienced the pain her sister had in her final moment despite witnessing it second-hand.

"Were you the one who turned Thea into a Shade?"

Zola's careful composure that she always tried so hard to wear fell completely, her elbow slipping off the arm of her chair. She barely managed to catch herself, looking like a trapped animal. It was answer enough. But still, Hal needed to hear it. She needed to hear it from her aunt.

"How did you —?"

"I saw it." It was the only explanation she offered.

Zola began to shake and Hal took a deep breath. She walked forward, kneeling down before her elder. Her aunt refused to meet her gaze, her eyes distant and hollow. Trapped in another memory she would rather forget.

"You thought you were saving her life," Hal continued, "after she had tried to take her own."

Tears began to stream down her aunt's face. Hal did not want to bring up every detail. Seeing it had been horrific enough. To watch the mind of her sister be tricked and twisted by wayward spirits that also belonged to their ancestors. They showed her how to use magic, nurturing her abilities and strength, molding her to their liking under the guise of being helpful. Thea learned through them how to keep the Sani alive until they became dependent on her. A child carrying such burdens but boldly rising to the challenge, growing more determined as she got older. More tired. But the pressure to keep the Sani alive was too much. The rage and grief of Galbatorix's death without revenge too much. The misery of living in such squalor with no end in sight.

It had all been too much.

So one night, just as Hal had experienced, Thea had been woken up in the early hours by the presence of a spirit that called to her. Had slipped outside with just her nightgown on. No protection. No furs. No warmth. She had left the safety of the mountains. Had wandered into the freezing tundra. The pain in her body as the cold drew on her warmth, the shock of watching her skin turn to black. And still Thea had walked.

And walked.

And walked.

And when she could no longer walk, she had fallen into a mound of snow a few miles away, awaiting the end she had come to crave. She had no way of knowing that the choice she had made was about to be stripped away. Zola was the one made aware of the danger her niece was in and she had rushed out in desperation. The woman had lost her son, her husband, her sister, her parents, her brother-in-law, and presumably one niece. She could not bear to lose the other. Could not bear to lose any more of her family. When she had found Thea and the spirits that had begun to circle whispered a means of saving her…Zola did not know the consequences. She knew nothing of Shades or the deception of spirits. All she knew was that she did not want Thea's final moments to be with her eyes frozen open in the middle of nowhere.

Thus, a Shade had been born that day. A Shade with massive amounts of rage and power, but with a soul that did not completely give up on the body. For Thea had died wishing she were stronger. Wishing she could be more so that she could find a way to save her people. She had died thinking she was too weak.

She had been reborn just the opposite.

"You must hate me," Zola whispered, staring into the flames as if she wished she could throw herself in.

"Why would I hate you?"

"I created the very thing that destroyed your life." Zola closed her eyes but it did not stop the steady flow of tears that were falling down her cheeks. "You spoke of all the atrocities Thea committed and, in an effort to keep my own sanity, to try and ease my own guilt, I dismissed them. I told myself I did not care of how many people died at her hand. Because she was…"

Zola choked on the word, but something in her seemed to fragment. Like Hal knowing the truth had splintered the careful façade she had been capable of putting on all this time. One in which she could be blind to Thea's actions because Thea was, at least, alive. In some way, shape or form.

The woman buried her face in her hands, looking almost mad with grief. "I was so scared. I saw her there in the snow and I…she looked so…I couldn't leave her like that. I couldn't leave her like that. Not there. She was half buried like she had tried to dig into it and she had no color and parts of her had turned to ice and I just…I was so scared and I didn't want that for her, I had never wanted that for her. She had been everyone's pride and joy. A fighter, beautiful, intelligent…and I didn't know. I didn't know how much she'd been struggling and I…"

"You forgot us. Replaced us. And all the while you were here living your life, I was turned into a monster!"

Hal did not say what else she saw. How Thea had uttered for her family, for Hal, in her final moments, a smile on her face. She had been planning to see them again. Hoped for it. She had been relieved at the prospects of her pain finally ending, only to be brought back to endure worse as a victim who had been used by the spirits who now possessed her.

"Aunt Zola, I judged you all too harshly for staying here. Heavens, I called you cowards despite my own struggles and shortcomings. I certainly have no high horse to sit upon and yet I certainly felt that I had the audacity."

"I was wrong too. All my fear I took out on you. You were right: we were acting like cowards. Myself especially. I feared what I didn't know and what I couldn't control. My failure to rescue Thea or anyone I loved was proof of that."

Hal felt like she was talking to herself. How many times had she had the very same thought?

Zola licked her lips, sniffing quietly as she tried to compose herself. "However, I must thank you for saying what you did. Your words certainly had an impact."

"What words?"

"That we were unhappy. That we were letting fear keep us here. We all knew it but no one had ever said it aloud until you did. It was a difficult thing to hear, but I suppose hard truths are like that. Despite our circumstances and our struggles and our misery…this place became a new home for us, so to speak. Everything around us simply became normal. Eventually we told ourselves it was enough. It's not perfect but it works. Why risk that for something greater?"

Hal was quiet, caught up in her own thoughts. Her own cowardice. How frequently she hid harsh truths from herself because she was afraid of them. Fear of her magic, fear of her past, fear of being a Shade, fearing of leaving, fear of being left behind.

Heavens, when had she become so easily frightened of everything?

She kept insisting she wanted to go back to her old life. Settle into village leader, be a wife, one day a mother. But before, she had always dreamed of something more, even if she hadn't fully known what it was. To travel to the mainland and see all the world had to offer. But thirteen years ago, that wonder had been snuffed out, her movements from then on dictated by the very fear she was now chastising others for dealing with.

"I wanted so badly to pretend that things could be as they were," Hal continued, glancing up at her aunt. Zola finally looked down at her, both women having stopped crying. "When it truly struck me that there were survivors, I wanted things to be as they were before. For so long the very idea of a place like this had faded with the passage of time. Yet here you all stand before me, like a dream." Hal reached for her aunt's hand, her lower lip trembling. "But this is not a dream. This is our reality. This is a consequence of what was done to us. I thought I had accepted that before, but it was different being here and seeing our people continue to suffer as they had. I was angry, but I never should have taken it out on all of you. Seeing and learning what I did made me realize how narrow my own eyesight has been. Perhaps for the both of us, it has been that way. Holding on to memories of what no longer exists. The Aunt Zola I knew, and the Halen you knew, both died on Uden. And we mourned for the other all this time. I wanted to pretend like this time hadn't passed, that we could somehow just…pick up where we'd left off."

"Aye. I thought it would be easier."

"As did I. But nothing that has made me truly happy in this life has come easy. I had to fight for it. And I want to fight for you and our people. I want you all to find the peace that I have. To do that, I must ask you to bear the burden of fighting a little bit longer. Just know that you will not have to do it alone. Not as long as I'm here."

Zola's eyes began to swim with tears again and Hal reached up and cupped the woman's face. Zola held Hal's hands to her cheeks, but Hal had no desire to let go. "I could not protect our people thirteen years ago," Hal continued. "That weakness and failure has haunted me ever since. You and Thea have fought so hard and so well since then to make it this far. Please, let me make sure your efforts and Thea's sacrifice were not in vain. Let me end this once and for all."

At first, Zola said nothing. She was quiet, listening. Contemplating. She took a steady breath and slowly opened her eyes. She met Hal's determined look with one of her own, demonstrating that endless Sani strength that Hal was always so proud of.

"Yes," Zola said at last, her small smile genuine. "I trust you, Hal. And I know our people do too."

Hal wanted to smile back, but she had one final question that she knew would sour the mood. "I still must accost Thea when the time comes. Not only because of what she has done, but because I now realize how much she has suffered. She deserves to rest, Aunt Zola. Properly."

She braced herself for pushback, but instead was met with Zola's forlorn expression and a slow nod. "I know. I've always known but…I see now how my reasons were selfish. They did not have Thea's best interest at heart, but my own."

"You did what you thought was right all the same," Hal assured her. "And if I can figure out how, I will make sure the spirits who used both you and my sister for their gain will be punished."

"Why did they do all of this to us anyhow? We trusted them. Are we not their kin?"

Hal, having seen it thanks to what the spirit showed her, knew the answer, but wasn't sure if her aunt was in a place to hear it. "I will tell you. But first, we must prepare the Sani to leave."

"How will we do that?"

Hal gave her aunt's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I have a plan. And I'll need your help."

When she made it back to her room, she was rather breathless and frazzled, her mind still putting bits and pieces of a plan together while running as fast as Nani escaping a lovuk. Baldor and Albriech stood at attention when she entered and closing the door behind her.

"You two need to pack, immediately," she said by way of greeting. "Make your way back to Du Weldenvarden and figure out how to get in touch with Murtagh."

"Miss Halen, is everything all right?" Baldor asked, clearly confused. "What's going on?"

"Thea," she said, still struggling to catch her breath. "I saw it. I saw everything. It's almost too much to explain but I know what Thea intends to do. She's going to try and turn the Sani."

"Turn?"

"Into Shades. These caves, you know how they were home to our ancestors long ago?" The brothers nodded. "Their spirits still remain here. Just like the Sani did back on Uden. It wasn't just about getting rid of magic. Now that she has, the spirits who have laid claim to my sister intend to use her to turn the Sani into Shades just like she did…"

Hal cut herself off, realizing she had almost said 'me.' Baldor and Albriech gave her a confused look, and she felt her throat tighten. No, she could not lie to them any longer. Not after everything they had been through together. Not after the friendship they had shown her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Albriech, Baldor…I—"

"We know, Miss Halen."

She opened her eyes again, frowning. "What?"

Baldor looked rather guilty as Albriech scratched the back of his head. "You're a Shade, right? Or part Shade or something like that?"

Her mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. "You know?"

"We've known," Albriech corrected gently. "Since the siege. Well, we started to suspect something, might be more accurate. You fight and move with the grace, speed, and power of an elf. And you healed with a quickness a mere man would kill to have."

"But it was Murtagh who told us," Baldor finished.

"He what?"

"Before he left, as we were talking to him about our plans to stay. We had been wondering for some time, and I think he suspected as much. He sort of…encouraged us to ask. And so we did, and he told the truth. He asked us not to say anything to you. He said he had a feeling you might decide to tell us yourself, and wanted you to have the right in doing so."

"However, he wanted to make sure our faith in you would remain unchanged when that time came," Albriech picked up with a small smile. "So he made sure our loyalty did not waver because we knew."

"He would never leave someone so precious behind with anything less," Baldor finished. "Please do not be upset with him for telling us. And please forgive us for pretending not to know all this time. We did not want you to think we stayed because we thought any less of you."

Hal listened, realizing when they had stopped speaking that she had finally managed to catch her breath. She felt surprisingly calm and certainly relieved. And she missed Murtagh with a ferocity for all he had done for her, even when she hadn't known. However, and most importantly in that particular moment, she was grateful.

She took one hand of each brother in hers, giving them a warm smile. "Thank you. I have nothing more I can even say except thank you."

"You owe us nothing," Albriech assured her. "You have earned our respect and devotion on your own merit. You being a Shade does not change the Halen we have come to know and love."

Her face was burning with humility and emotion, and she wiped one wayward tear before laughing. "Heavens, how does one return to the conversation at hand after hearing such endearing words?"

"Take your time. We're not going anywhere."

She nodded, her hand to her chest as she willed her heart to slow and focus. She was so flustered by their sincerity that she was sure her cheeks were still warm by the time she started talking again.

"It is like I said before: Thea intends to turn the remaining Sani into Shades like me. Not only will it ensure their survival but it will likely return us to the sole magic users we were in the past. Thea gets what she wants and the spirits get what they want."

"But what is taking her so long? Why has she not done it yet?"

Hal was quiet a moment. Thea had been unnervingly absent all this time and no one seemed the wiser as to where she was. The last time Hal had seen her had been when she had first woken up in the caves. And Thea had not looked like her old self. In fact, if Shades could get ill, Hal imagined they would look like Thea had.

"She's was too weak," Hal realized. "They used me to realize that the spell could work. To create Shades that did not fall pray to the souls inside them. Then there was the spell to rid the world of magic…not only did she succeed, but she confirmed that she could manipulate hundreds of souls at a time."

"Basically, she's been using you and everyone else as a practice run for the real thing."

"Aye. Only the last spell would be too much for anyone. Casting the shield by itself put me out for three months and wrecked my body, I would think Thea's spell had even more severe consequences. Wherever she is, I'm sure she's been simply resting and regaining her strength. And we don't know how long that will take or how much time we might have."

"Then for all we know, she could strike at any moment," Baldor confirmed. "It's awful but I also see the logic behind it."

"As do I," Hal bitterly agreed. "But this isn't a life to force upon others. I got lucky when Thea turned me. Extremely lucky. But if she uses souls with the same anger and hatred as the ones used on her, it is likely that the rest of the Sani will not turn out as I did. The damage they could do to the country…if they are not all hunted down and killed first that is. She is putting them at greater risk." Realizing she was becoming too distracted, Hal shook her head to clear it of all miscellaneous thoughts. "Never mind all that, we have more important matters to worry about, but this is why I need you both to go and seek aid. We must get the Sani away from Thea sooner rather than later. Can you two start packing for your trip back? I will notify the kitchens to pull together some food —"

"Nonsense, Miss Halen," Albriech said with a quick shake of his head. "It wouldn't be right for us to take food meant for the Sani. Especially when they have so little."

"Aye," agreed Baldor. "We can hunt for what we need in the meantime."

"I know you can," Hal said softly, her throat feeling tight as she gave the Horstsson brothers each a sad smile. "I know. But please…let me at least do this much after everything you both have done for me. And are doing for me. You never ask for anything and never complain. Not once, unless it is only about my safety and wellbeing. I am not asking a small feat of you this time. So please, let me at least make sure you are properly prepared for the journey."

They bashfully agreed "Good. Now start packing. I will get you what I can." Then, before they could protest further, she pushed them out of her room and closed the door behind them.

Hal pressed her back against the door, her heart racing. She didn't want them to see her panic. Didn't want them to see her as she began to unravel. She was depending on them to help her save her people. She was putting an unspeakable burden on their shoulders. Regardless of success or failure, it was a debt that could never be repaid.

More than that though, was the fear. Fear of what she stood to lose. And not just the Sani. She loved Baldor and Albriech like she had known them for years. They had bonded so naturally after the attack in Ilirea, and the thought of sending them alone through that frightening terrain made her ill. If anything happened to them because of this…

Do not assume their failure or weakness, she silently scolded. Just like you would not assume Murtagh's or Thorn's. They have gotten you this far. Trust them now, even further.

She had to repeat it to herself several times, and she knew she would have to repeat it to herself several more. For now, at least, she managed to collect herself and neutralize her expression. This was no time to lose her head when everyone around her was moving into their respective positions, waiting to jump at the order.

Hal had work to do.