“Marn,” Jaedia whispered. “I left him.”

“He’s all right,” Maya said. “I found him.”

“Good,” Jaedia said, then stiffened again. Her breath escaped her with a sigh. “That’s … good.”

“Please don’t die.” Maya’s voice was a whisper. “Not now. I need you.”

“Maya.” Jaedia swallowed. “Listen to me. The mountain.”

“W … what?”

“Under the mountain.” Jaedia jerked again. “There is—power. The ghouls—”

“The ghouls?” Maya said. “I don’t understand. Is it a ruin?”

“The ghouls are here,” Jaedia gasped out. “If they … reach it … everything will fall. Order. Republic. Everything.” Her hand came up, catching Maya’s arm in a death grip. “You have to stop them.”

“But …”

“Stop. Them.” Jaedia could barely force the words out. “Please.”

“Don’t do this,” Maya said. “Don’t put this on me like you’re going to die. Jaedia!”

Jaedia’s back arched again, her body as taut as a bowstring. Her eyes showed only whites.

No. Maya’s hand scrabbled in the wet ruin until she found her haken. Deiat bloomed inside her. You can’t. She pulled at the flow of power, the fire of creation, until it crackled through her body like a tempest of flame. The Thing went from skin-warm to white-hot in moments, and a curl of smoke rose from where it scorched her shirt. You can’t. You can’t die.

A voice echoed in her mind. Her own voice, but not, full of such authority that to disobey it was unthinkable.

I will not allow it.

Pinpricks of warmth, all over her skin, grew in intensity to match the Thing’s blaze. Maya, suffused with the power of the sun, looked down at Jaedia’s body, and she saw. The poison the spider had left behind, its petty revenge, caustic venom tearing Jaedia apart from the inside, like black worms writhing through her veins. Maya focused, and the worms burned, strings of fire too small to see with the naked eye running through Jaedia like the tide. A hundred, a thousand, a million tiny shreds of divine fire. Too many. No one can do this, Maya thought, and she felt herself wobble atop the torrent of power.

You can, little sha’deia. Something was watching her, something distant and vast and cold. Oh, you can.

I will see you again. Soon …

The last of the black poison burned away. Maya let deiat slip from her fingers, and the world slipped away with it, burying her in darkness.

*

“Maya!” Someone was tapping her cheek. “Maya, please wake up.”

“We can’t carry both of them.” Tanax’s voice, more distant.

“Maya!” Beq.

Maya opened her eyes and saw Beq’s face inches from her own, melting with relief. “She’s awake!”

“I …” Maya coughed. “Jaedia!”

“She’s alive,” Beq said. “I don’t know what you did, Maya, but it was amazing. You were glowing, and then Jaedia was glowing too, and—”