“A lot of it is the same,” Eleanor said. “Everything you said about the beginning was true. The princess was born with hands turned backward and a delicate glass heart that contained all her magic. But you were wrong about what happened when your heart shattered.”

Wander looked away. “It still hurts, Eleanor. Did you know that? Every shard of it still echoes with that pain, and no Story can erase it.” Around her the glass drifted, the moonlight reflecting off of it. Eleanor had once thought the little motes looked like stars. Now she thought they looked most of all like tears.

“ ‘Her heart shattered,’ ” Eleanor whispered. “ ‘And all the magic it contained spilled out. Magic is just power. It can’t do anything on its own. It needs purpose. But this magic had been taught a single purpose: love. All the princess’s magic flowed into the knight, and washed away the deadly poison.’ The knight lived, Wander. And they kept traveling together for years. Until the Story stole the princess away.”

She held the book out, open to an illustration. A princess with long dark hair and silvery shards dancing around her, held in the arms of a woman in armor with red hair and a kind smile.

Wander reached out. One fingertip traced the line of the knight’s jaw—and then her hand dropped to her side again. “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

“How can that not matter?” Eleanor demanded. “All the things you’ve said about how you shouldn’t love and shouldn’t feel things—they’re not true. We shouldn’t cut ourselves off. That’s the whole point of the world-walker—to stay connected. Even when it hurts. Because it’s worth it. It’s worth it even if you shatter. Even if . . .” She trailed off, tears choking her words to silence. “Don’t you want to know the name of the woman you loved?”

Wander’s expression was pained. “Why? She’s gone. Remembering her would only hurt.”

“You’re already hurting,” Eleanor said. “You just told me. Every shard aches.”

“Because I let myself love once. Why make the same mistake again?” Wander said.

“Loneliness hurts, too. More than anything. Before I came to Eden Eld, I was completely alone. I was shattered, but I’m not anymore. Maybe you don’t need to remember all the adventures you had before you were the world-walker. But I think you should remember love.”

Wander looked at Eleanor for a long moment. Then she cupped Eleanor’s cheek, the faintest smile on her face. “You are a sweet girl, Eleanor.”

“Why does that sound like a no?” Eleanor asked. Her heart was breaking for Wander, for the girl she’d been. But her heart should break, she thought fiercely. Sometimes you had to shatter before you could be whole.