Spike emerged from the palm of her hand; she felt the tremor in the tips of his protrusions.

The Ancient’s smile deepened, widened, as they looked at Spike. The recognition and delight in their expression cast a wave of envy—even jealousy—over the watching Hawk. When the Ancient spoke, she couldn’t understand a word they said, but Spike’s quivering increased. Kaylin knew it wasn’t fear that caused it.

Spike whirred, clicked, shook in place.

He wishes to remain, Hope said. The Ancient wishes to converse with Spike; Spike was, and is, a historian.

“Can you take us home? Like, without having to devour the marks?”

Your marks were never worthy of being a sacrifice, Hope replied, voice soft. They are your source of power, but it is not power that you prize.

“Fine. Can you take us home without having to devour Terrano, or one of my limbs?”

Terrano glared at the familiar on Kaylin’s shoulder. “I can take us back, thanks.”

“You wish to leave?” the Ancient asked, looking away from Spike. “They say they have been tasked with your safety, and they should not abandon you.”

“Tasked by who? No, never mind. Spike wants to stay with you and I’m not his responsibility. I understand Spike’s feelings. I’d stay if I could,” she added, embarrassed to mean it so viscerally. “But I have what I came for, and if I don’t get back, I might lose a lot of my friends. Their deaths won’t be like yours. They won’t wake again, no matter how much power we put into the attempt to revive them.”

“And you wish to find an exit to your world from the planes of eternity.”

Kaylin nodded.

“That, Chosen, I can do, if you will but relieve Spike of his duties. You will take that word with you?”

“That’s the hope, yes. Is it possible?”

“That word is, in part, of this plane. I am uncertain that removing the subtle roots will not destabilize the structure of the whole.”

“We’re not concerned with the structural stability of this particular attempt at creating a word. It’s bound to someone who was once Barrani; the heart of it came from the Lake of Life, and it will never return.”

For the first time, furrows appeared across the immaculate gold of the Ancient’s skin.

“First,” they said, and gestured. Between two of the pillars to the left of Kaylin, an arch appeared. “Your exit. Second, the word you have retrieved. Understand that I was not born as destroyer. It is not my gift, not my strength. It was never my purpose.