"And what of Eteer?" Issari's cheeks flushed. She rose to her feet and pulled her hands free. "Is Eteer not a kingdom? Is it not a home to me as much as Requiem? Its halls too have fallen, but its people still live. They live out here, in the wilderness, afraid, hurt. You cannot ask me to abandon them. And what of Goshar? I was the abina's wife. I slew him. By the laws of Goshar, its people too are mine; I am their queen, no less than I'm Queen of Eteer." She walked toward the tent's door, stepped outside, and swept her arm across the camp. "Multitudes are without homes, without hope. And they look to me, Tanin." She spun toward him. "They look to me for hope."

Tanin took a shaky breath, scarcely believing what he heard. "Issari . . ." He tried to hold her, but she stepped back. "Issari, this is not how I know you. Requiem needs us. You used to believe in Requiem. Where is the bright-eyed girl who wandered the streets of Eteer, sending dragons north to safety? Where is the girl who flew across the sea, bringing us a warning of demons? Where is the girl—"

"That girl is a queen now." Her eyes flashed. "Never call me a girl again. I am no longer the girl you knew, the girl you fell in love with, the girl you thought you could protect, that you could save." Her cheeks reddened. "I am Queen Issari Seran. I am the Priestess in White. I am the Lady of Eteer and Goshar. I am a savior to these people." She gestured at the rolling camp. "Saving dragons? Yes, Tanin. I saved dragons. I saved them in Eteer and in Goshar, and I will travel the great lands of Terra, city to city, saving whoever I can, uniting them under my banner." She raised her chin. "That is my task. Not in the north."

Tanin blinked. "By the stars . . . Issari!" He tried again to embrace her, but she squirmed away. "Issari, please. You're not some . . . some messiah, some savior, some prophet. You're . . . you're my Issari. My girl. My—"

"I told you." Her eyes blazed and she shoved him away. "Do not call me that. A savior? Yes, I am a savior. A messiah? A prophet?" She raised her voice to a shout, and she raised her palm, letting her amulet shine. "I am a daughter of Taal! I am bound to his light."

That light blazed out, washing over Tanin.

He shouted and fell to his knees.

The light burned him, searing his skin, driving into his eyeballs and through his veins, and—

She closed her fist, hiding the glow. She stared at him in shock, lips trembling, then spun and fled back into the tent.

Tanin remained on his knees on the hill, breathing raggedly. He stared at the closed tent door.

"Who are you?" he whispered.