The jagged cliffs of the Shattered Plains gave way to narrower paths as we traveled deeper into the wasteland. The oppressive silence was broken only by the faint hum of the shard in my pocket and the steady crunch of our boots against loose gravel.

  Aeryn led the way, her movements as precise as ever. Her shadows, which usually flickered lazily around her, now stretched farther, clinging to the cracks in the rock. I’d started to notice how they reacted to her mood—calm and fluid when she was at ease, sharp and erratic when she was on edge.

  “You keep checking behind us,” I said. “Think Kael might come back for round two?”

  “He’ll be back,” Aeryn said without looking at me. “But not yet. He likes to plan his moves carefully, and we bought some time with that little stunt of yours.”

  “Glad to know it wasn’t a total disaster,” I muttered.

  She stopped suddenly, holding up a hand. I followed her gaze to the ridge above us, where the faint silhouette of a figure stood against the sun.

  “Another ambush?” I asked, already gripping the shard.

  Aeryn frowned. “No. This one’s different.”

  The figure leapt gracefully from the ridge, landing a few feet away without a sound. As the dust cleared, I recognized her immediately—dark leather armor, twin daggers, and a faint scar cutting across her cheek.

  “Lyra,” Aeryn said, her tone flat.

  “Miss me?” Lyra asked, twirling one of her daggers lazily. Her sharp eyes scanned me, lingering on the shard. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

  “What do you want?” Aeryn asked, stepping in front of me.

  Lyra smirked. “Still playing bodyguard, huh? I thought it was the other way around, Aeryn. When did you start wearing the pants?”

  “Get to the point,” Aeryn said, her shadows coiling around her like a storm cloud.

  Lyra’s smile widened. “Relax. I’m not here to fight.” She glanced at me. “Not yet, anyway. I’m here to talk.”

  “About what?” I asked, keeping my distance.

  She tilted her head, her expression turning serious. “About the shard. And what you’ve dragged yourself into.”

  Lyra sheathed her daggers, taking a step closer. “The Threads are fracturing faster than anyone predicted. Nightmares are slipping through cracks that shouldn’t even exist. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The shard’s power pulling at the edges of reality.”

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  I didn’t answer, but the faint pulse of the shard in my pocket seemed to grow stronger.

  “What’s your angle, Lyra?” Aeryn asked, her voice sharp. “You’re not exactly the charitable type.”

  Lyra sighed dramatically. “Fine. You caught me. I’m here for the shard. But unlike Kael, I’m not interested in breaking it—or you, for that matter.”

  “Comforting,” I muttered.

  She ignored me, her gaze locking onto Aeryn. “I want to use it. Or more accurately, I want to help him use it.”

  Aeryn’s shadows flared, sharp and jagged. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “Don’t I?” Lyra countered. “You’ve seen what’s coming, Aeryn. The world is unraveling, and whoever put that enormous bounty on his head clearly values that thing he’s holding.”

  Aeryn didn’t reply immediately, her jaw tight.

  Lyra turned to me, her expression softening slightly. “Sion, the shard chose you for a reason. You might not remember what you did to take it, but the fact that you have it means you’re already tied to the Threads. If you learn to control it—really control it—you might have a chance to stop this.”

  “Or,” Aeryn said coldly, “he could lose himself completely and make things worse.”

  Lyra shrugged. “True. But you’re already losing, Aeryn. Why not take a chance on the boy?”

  The silence stretched, and I could feel the weight of both women’s gazes on me. Aeryn’s was protective, but wary. Lyra’s was calculating, her expression unreadable.

  “Why should I trust you?” I asked finally, meeting Lyra’s eyes.

  Her smirk returned, faint but genuine. “You probably shouldn’t. But I’m not the one trying to kill you.”

  “Yet,” Aeryn muttered.

  Lyra chuckled. “Fair enough. Look, you don’t have to trust me. But sooner or later, you’re going to have to make a choice. And when that time comes…” She tapped the hilt of one of her daggers. “You’ll want someone who knows how to win dirty.”

  “Let’s go,” Aeryn said abruptly, grabbing my arm and pulling me past Lyra.

  I hesitated, glancing back. Lyra stood there, her smirk fading as her eyes followed us.

  “This isn’t over, Sion,” she called after me. “Think about what I said.”

  By the time we reached the edge of the Shattered Plains, the tension between us had settled into an uneasy quiet. The barren rock gave way to rolling hills, their sparse vegetation a welcome change from the wasteland.

  Aeryn finally slowed, letting out a sharp breath. “Don’t listen to her.”

  “Why not?” I asked, stopping beside her.

  “Because she’s dangerous,” Aeryn said, her voice low. “Lyra doesn’t care about saving the world. She only cares about power. If you trust her, you’ll end up as another pawn in whatever game she’s playing.”

  “And what about you?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

  She turned to me, her violet eyes narrowing. “What about me?”

  “How do I know you’re not doing the same thing? Using me to get what you want?”

  Her shadows flared briefly, then receded. She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

  “You don’t,” she said finally. “But if I wanted the shard, I’d have taken it by now.”

  “Comforting,” I said, sighing.

  “You’re annoying when you’re sarcastic,” she muttered, her smirk returning.

  “You’re annoying when you’re vague,” I shot back.

  Her laugh was soft, almost musical, and for a moment, the tension between us eased.

  As we made camp that night, I found myself staring at the shard again. Its faint blue glow seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat, and the whispers were louder now, threading through my thoughts like a melody I couldn’t quite place.

  Aeryn sat across from me, her shadows flickering lazily in the firelight. She watched me for a long moment before speaking.

  “You are afraid of it,” she said.

  “I’m afraid of what it might make me do,” I admitted.

  She nodded, her expression softening slightly. “Good. Fear keeps you cautious. But you need to learn control, Sion. If you keep letting the shard act on instinct, it’ll destroy you.”

  “And if I don’t use it at all?”

  Her gaze hardened. “Then you won’t survive long enough to regret it.”

  Her words lingered as I lay down, the shard’s glow casting faint patterns on the cave walls.

  For the first time, I wondered if Lyra might be right.