The lights cast patterns over the stars—blossoming flower petals and cutting spears like the knives Tavia kept in her waistband and on her boots.

“Just look at it,” Wesley said. “Best view in the city.”

The fire display illuminated every crevice Creije held and Saxony’s brother looked enthralled with each new bang of light.

It struck Saxony then how much Wesley was like their mother. The Uncharted Forest, however much it loved him and craved his return, was never his home. It was too wild to contain him, just as it had been too wild to keep Vea’s heart at peace.

“I almost forgot how beautiful this place was,” Wesley said.

“No,” Saxony said. “You didn’t.”

Wesley looked over to her and there was a trace of a smile on his lips. She couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled at her. She couldn’t remember if he had ever smiled at her like that—Many Gods knew she’d probably never smiled at him—but seeing it now made her feel so sad and so happy all at once.

Happy that her brother was alive.

Sad that she had spent years wishing he wasn’t.

Saxony turned back to the explosions, still filling the sky with light and color. It took a while, but when they were finally done painting the sky in glory, they faded to rain and a swirl of hues trickled down and over the city.

It coated Creije like a liquid rainbow, puddling in the streets and slicking over rooftops.

It ran across Saxony’s dark skin and then dripped off and onto her shoes, and though she felt a little light-headed, and her heartbeat seemed to quicken—which could have been from the sheer beauty—it had no lasting effects.

At least, not on her.

Not on Karam or Wesley or Tavia.

But for the rest of Creije, time stood still.

The city meandered to a halt and the wind froze midair and the footsteps sank into the ground and the music caught in the space between worlds.

The people stopped moving.

The moonlight stopped glistening.

There was just Saxony. Just her brother and her lover and her friend, standing over the city they loved, preserved in a stolen infinity. It was only the waters around them that continued to glisten and move with unbreakable fluidity.

They joined hands once more and descended from the tower, making their way back onto the center of the bridge path.

“Let’s never do that again,” Tavia said, once they landed. “I’m all for a good light show, but the flying I could do without.”

Her hand was still locked in Wesley’s and neither of them made to let go.

“Arjun and Schulze should have a clear path to Yejlath now,” Wesley said. “And the rest of our forces can start taking back Creije.”