“I saw worlds,” Rielle said, her smile brittle. “I held them in my hands and made them spin. I climbed the stars. I dangled my feet over the edge of all things. I unmade an angel and then made five thousand more. And that is only the beginning.”

Audric kept his eyes on her face, ignoring Corien. “What do worlds look like?”

She blinked again. The question had surprised her. A pause, and then a flicker of feeling on her face, something beyond that wild, molten hunger.

“Ours is blue and green,” she said quietly, “with white clouds swirling around it like ribbons. And there are others. One that is bright violet, and one that is yellow with storms, and other small worlds that are hardly more than rocks.”

“Astonishing.” He slowed his approach. A step, two heartbeats, another step. “And the edge of all things? Can you tell me what it looks like?”

“Like a waterfall of a million colors,” she said, smiling. Her gaze was elsewhere. “It falls forever and then begins again.”

“Enough,” Corien snapped. “It’s time to end this.”

Rielle glanced behind Audric, and some of the gold faded from her eyes. “Where is Ludivine?”

“She’s gone,” Audric replied. “She left me some weeks ago.”

Rielle’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Cowardice.” Corien ticked words off on his fingers. “Selfishness. Shame. Take your pick.”

Rielle stared at Audric. Her eyes shone, not with light but with tears. She drew in a shuddering breath.

“Lu,” she whispered.

Encouraged, Audric took another step toward her. “Think of what you could show us all,” he said, “what you could teach us. Things none of us would be capable of understanding alone. You’ve surpassed us, that’s true, and some people are afraid and will continue to be. Some will hate you. That’s true too. But most will love you, even those who sometimes fear you.”

He paused, then knelt. Behind him, Sloane muttered a warning. He ignored her.

“I was wrong to turn you away,” he said, looking up at the brilliant glow of Rielle’s face. “I was frightened. Can you understand why?”

She stared at him. Her mouth was trembling. Corien came toward her, but then the air rippled sharply, shoving him away. Incensed, he glared at her from within brambles of light.

“Rielle, he’s trying to distract you,” Corien snarled. “I know you can see that. If you force my hand—”

“Touch my mind, and I’ll kill you,” she said calmly.

Audric kept his voice just as steady. “Rielle, I asked you a question. Please, will you answer it?”

She looked down at him, seas of gold in her eyes. They cast their own light. “You were frightened of me.” She spoke slowly, as if deciphering a puzzle. “I understand why.”

“But I never stopped loving you, never,” he told her quickly. The moment was precarious; he had to tell her everything before the air between them snapped. “Not once during these past months have I stopped loving you. Nothing you do can change that, and I know how much you can do, darling. I’m beginning to understand it, just some of it, and the rest I want to understand. I want to hear all about the worlds you’ve seen; I want to sit with you by the fire and hear you speak of how the stars feel in your hands, and if it’s cold by that waterfall at the edge of all things, and which of the worlds is your favorite. Ours, so pretty and green-blue, or maybe that fierce storming one, its skies angry and yellow.”

Audric watched her eyes shine, felt his own tears rise to match. “But we can’t do any of that if we don’t first stop this war. Our people are fighting to live when they could do it so easily, if you allow it. Our ancestors couldn’t live together, but we can. The saints tricked the angels, but we won’t. Help me do this. We can make a new world, you and I. Right here where we were born. Our home. We can make it into a place where all of us, even our enemies, can learn to live in peace.”

He refused to look at Corien, but he could feel the great rise of his anger.

For a moment, Rielle seemed to consider it. Her face softened.

Carefully, Audric smiled at her. “Come home to me, Rielle. Please. We’ve missed you.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

There was no warning. She lunged for him, tearing light from the air as she moved. He pushed himself to his feet, and when they crashed together, it was with swords. Rielle had made one out of nothing, a searing weapon of pure light and power. She held it in her bare palms, glaring at him over its wide, crackling blade. Audric gripped Illumenor in hands slick with sweat. His muscles burned, and his knees shook.

“They’ve missed me?” Rielle’s voice had fractured once more, hundreds of booming pieces hissing with fury. “Everyone who has feared me? Everyone who told me to pray and pray and pray, to ignore my hunger, to use my power, yes, but only as ordered by church and crown? Kingsbane, they called me. And you never admonished them. In private, you loved me. You put your child in me. You married me. But you let them scream epithets at our gates, curse me and yell for my death. And when the truth was made known, you became just like them, even though you’d swore you never would.”

She leaned closer. Her mouth was bright with stars. “Kingsbane. Monster. You said it yourself. And now you see you were right in that, at least, and wrong in everything else. You never thought I could become this, never let yourself imagine it. It frightened you. Not my Rielle, you told yourself. She would never. She is good and faithful and pure of heart. And when glimpses of my true self became clear to you, you shrank from me. You touched me with anger. You looked at me as if you didn’t know me. And you never did. You knew a lie.”

Audric had gathered his power as she spoke and now used it to push up hard against her. Illumenor flared white. Rielle stumbled, caught herself. Her sword went out like a snuffed candle, but when she spun back around, she had made another one. This one snapped with red fire, and when it crashed against Illumenor, the sparks burned Audric’s cheeks and brow. He screamed in pain but held fast to his sword. Shadows moved across Rielle’s face. He could see the startling shape of her skull, how it blazed like lit bronze.

The others rushed forward to help, and through an exhausted haze, he watched Rielle fling them away—Miren, Sloane, Kamayin, Evyline, each of them pinned flat to the terrace with hissing tendrils of power.

“Rielle, look at what you’re doing!” His knees gave out. He dropped to the stone floor. “These people are your friends!”

“Are they? Is anyone?” Rielle’s eyes darted to the others. Her tongue wet her lips. She looked at Sloane. “I killed her brother.” Then at Miren. “And her lover.” Her eyes found Evyline. “Her friends, just now. They’re broken on the ground.” And then Kamayin. “And half her people are lying dead on the battlefield. And everyone in this palace is dead, and so is your father, and mine.”