The third strand was a pale ivory surrounded by a patina of gold; it reminded Kaylin of her marks. She had never understood how they chose the color that they adopted when they started to glow. She stiffened when those strands began to struggle as Terrano worked. They then reached—slowly—for Amaldi and Darreno.

No, Hope said, as Kaylin’s hands tightened.

Amaldi and Darreno couldn’t see what Kaylin could see. They didn’t apparently notice when those strands began to twine around them. At first it was a single thread, but more threads followed. All of the threads that Terrano teased apart, all of the gray and the black that he slowly stripped away, were at heart pale ivory and gold. She could see that light only as the darker colors thinned; in some cases, they shattered, shards floating into nothingness, no doubt at the intervention of the Avatar.

Only pale gold remained, and all of those strands, all of the components of that cocoon, now reached for the two mortals. Kaylin’s hands were white-knuckled; they were now the only thing she could clearly see. The golden strands didn’t touch her.

Kaylin.

She inhaled, bracing herself; exhaled and forced her fingers to relax. This was the decision Amaldi and Darreno had made, forced on them in the end by Azoria, by the Barrani, by their existence as slaves in the very distance past. She lifted her hands, stepped away, and lowered her arms, her hands becoming empty fists.

“Terrano,” the Avatar said. “Step back.”

“I’m not sure I’m finished—”

“You are finished. Step back now.”

“I’m really not certain it’s done—”

“An’Teela, please.”

Teela grimaced, pulled her hand out of his back—literally—and then grabbed him by the arms and carried him away from the paintings before he had time to struggle or escape.

“Thank you,” the Avatar said. He then turned toward the two.

Hope lifted the wing that had been plastered to her face for so much of the day. Even without the wing, Kaylin could see the golden lights that stood in the hall as if they were two glowing cocoons. As she watched, the light tightened, molding into the shape of limbs, body, neck, head—all familiar.

“Breathe,” Teela said.

Kaylin exhaled the breath she hadn’t even been aware she was holding. The strands that had been drawn tight by an unseen hand slowly became transparent. She could see Amaldi and Darreno appear as they faded entirely. Amaldi blinked. Her hand remained locked in Darreno’s; for the first time, she tried to disentangle them. Darreno’s hand tightened.

Kaylin approached them as they both blinked. Hope’s wing was no longer plastered across her face, but she could see them clearly. “Amaldi?”

Amaldi turned toward Kaylin, her eyes bright and wide. She spoke. Kaylin couldn’t understand a word that came out of her mouth.