“Cedar!” Nadir barks as he rolls his neck. We’ve all been shaken by the sight of Zerra. Before long, the broken pieces of the three arks sit in the center of the rubble. We clamor down from our places and stare at them as silver lightning continues to crackle across the sky.

“What do you think it did to her?” Tristan asks as he peers up.

I also cast my gaze skyward.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“What do we do about the last one?” Amya asks.

“I don’t know that either,” I say. “I don’t think this works if we can’t destroy them all.”

“Does D’Arcy have a Primary?” Tristan asks.

“She does,” Bronte says. “But the Celestrian Primary is still a child, far from the full force of their magic.”

“So we’re fucked,” Mael says, and we all nod when I notice something falling from the sky.

Everyone’s attention slowly turns towards it. A star streaks through the air, glowing brighter and brighter before it drops into the courtyard and hovers a few feet off the ground. I look around at everyone, but most of them seem just as confused as I am.

I notice the ghost of a smile plays on Bronte’s face before the light dissolves, revealing the queen of Celestria standing at the end of the square, watching us.

“D’Arcy,” I say as she approaches us on smooth steps while I try not to get my hopes up.

“I saw everything,” she says, indicating the broken arks. “I still don’t agree with your bonding”—she pins us with a dark look—“but I do understand what it is to lose your mate.

“Last night someone convinced me that this isn’t about what I want. Celestria has always claimed neutrality in matters of Ouranos.” She exhales a sigh. “But perhaps that is not the most prudent course of action in this case. I have no desire to witness the final death of Heart either.”

Her gaze finds Bronte, and we all watch as they exchange a look. The queen of Tor dips her chin.

“I returned home to speak with the Diadem,” she continues. “It confirmed your story and the truth of your words.” She studies me with her hands folded in front of her stomach.

“Does that mean you’ll do it?” I ask.

She presses her lips together and stares me up and down. “I will do it.”

Relief collapses in my chest. I exhale a sigh. “Thank you,” I say, walking up and throwing my arms around her. “Thank you.”

I feel her stiffen.

“Please,” she says. “If you ever hug me again, I will rescind my offer.”

I hear everyone trying to stifle their laughter, and then I drop my arms, wiping a tear that’s slipped down my cheek with the back of my hand.

“Sorry,” I say. “Sorry.”