After Herald woke up it was all I could do not to follow her. But Instinct hung there, swaying in the invisible breeze, and she was a reminder that could not be ignored of why I was here. It wasn’t just about Herald’s untrustworthy desire to remain mine, or my own fear of what would happen should I succeed in freeing her; it was about Instinct being trapped, unable to do anything but speak and puppet Herald’s shadow around. That was no life. Sure, her prison couldn’t be nicer, and no one could have asked for a better warden, but it was still a prison, and one where she was kept chained to the wall, at that. So I swallowed down my misery, listened to Conscience’s encouraging words as she told me that I was doing the right thing, and got down to figuring out how to possibly cut Herald out of my life.

  The spark was there, right at the center of her soul and as bright as ever. From it, like the stalk of some weird, plume-shaped flower, extended the tendril that was all that kept Instinct from drifting off to only the Sorrows knew what kind of fate. Pulling the spark into myself, I reasoned, should anchor Instinct to me instead, and let me pull her into myself where she presumably belonged.

  It should be simple enough to do. It had been easy with Tam, and there was no reason I could see that doing it to Herald should be any different. Except for keeping up my motivation, of course, but I had that handled now. Weaponized guilt and self-loathing really was something.

  Having located the spark, I carefully sent out a tendril of my power. When it touched Herald’s soul it began to slide off, but I’d been ready for that; I simply slowed down, keeping up a steady pressure, and the tendril slipped into the mist of her inner being. Deeper and deeper it went, with torturous slowness, until it touched the spark.

  At first I was somewhat disappointed not to feel anything when it happened. I had no reason to expect that I should; nothing had happened when I touched Tam’s spark, after all. Maybe I’d been unconsciously hoping for some sign to warn me off, or maybe I’d figured the special nature of our bond would make itself known through the contact. But perhaps in Tam it had simply been too faint, because then, to my surprise, I did feel something. It just wasn’t anything I’d’ve expected.

  I could never truly explain what I felt. It would be like explaining color to someone born blind, or birdsong to someone born deaf. My best approximation would be that I could taste the spark, in the same way you might say that your eyes taste light. It was the same way I could tell who a soul belonged to just by being near it, come to think of it. The thing was, the spark didn’t taste like Herald.

  It tasted like me. For the sake of the comparison, it tasted like the inside of my own mouth. And just like that, a piece of the puzzle fell into place.

  Why did the humans I’d touched adore me? Why did I adore them? Why was the effect stronger or weaker, and why could I literally feel where Herald, Mak, and Tammy were at all times?

  Because intentionally or not, I’d put a piece of my soul inside each of them. The bigger the piece, the stronger the bond. And when that piece was large enough, it and the remainder of my soul called to each other. And of course Instinct had latched onto the spark inside Herald; if it was a piece of my soul, it would have felt like home. Like part of herself.

  Well, at least that theory silenced one of my fears. Removing the spark inside Herald certainly shouldn’t harm her, as long as I removed it carefully. It didn’t belong there in the first place.

  Of course, that little discovery sparked a whole new wave of self-loathing. I was filled with the kind of energetic despair that can push you to accomplish anything, as long as in doing so you cause yourself some kind of terrible, irreparable harm. Self-flagellation didn’t begin to describe what I was doing as, with a horrific, almost dissociative focus, I wrapped my power around the little piece of me inside Herald, and pulled it out.

  It was a long time before I woke.

  I wanted to, but part of the power of my hoard was that if I was injured, I would heal far faster while resting on it. The downside to that was that I would remain asleep until I was fully healed, which in this case meant sleeping until I’d healed all the remaining damage from Behold Her’s breath touching me. Kira had focused on healing my wing, but I still had patches of hide on my right side that were nearly raw and without scales. Those had to regenerate before I could wake.

  I realized this when Herald bolted from my side, heading deeper into the caves. I tried to force myself to wakefulness so I could follow her, and found myself unable to. I was trapped.

  It probably would have been possible for me to abandon lucidity, dropping into regular sleep, but I couldn’t. Nor would the voices in my head—both of them, at long last—allow me to.

  I had swallowed the piece of my soul that had resided inside Herald. Along with it came Instinct, who was attached to it, and… that was all it took. I’d wondered if she would simply float free after I reclaimed the spark that she’d been anchored to. I’d even started fashioning a loose net to catch her and drag her into our slumbering body, but I hadn’t needed it. I’d pulled the spark into myself, and Instinct had just kind of fallen in behind it, announcing my success with a triumphant, “I am back!”

  It was good to hear her like that again. It really was. But it was extremely difficult to fully appreciate our reunion when my full attention was taken up by how dull and immaterial Herald’s soul had become. I could still see her there, unmoving next to my slumbering body, but she may as well have been anyone. I still hovered just beside her, and I could reach out to her with my will, and… nothing. All the beauty that I knew was there, that was the first thing I’d ever felt in the dreamscape, was denied to me.

  For a long, horrifying moment, she was so still that I feared I’d killed her or pushed her into a coma. Then she moved in a way that suggested her getting up and stepping back from me, and then… then she ran. Fled, might have been a better description, taking off down the passage, deeper into the mountain and away from the entrance.

  I forlornly watched her go. There it is, I thought, heartbroken but too removed to truly feel it. She hates me, and she can’t stand to be near me anymore. That, or she’s terrified.

  At least she didn’t act like she was running blind, so she must still be able to use her shadow sight. That was good. I hadn’t broken her magic.

  Well? Conscience demanded. Good on ya! That took some bloody strength of character, and I’m proud of you. Now follow her!

  Why? I asked. I brainwashed her into being my friend, and now she sees how awful that is. She wants nothing to do with me.

  Yeah, nah. Pretty sure the friendship came before the brainwashing. Can’t say for sure if that makes it better or worse, but she liked us before all that. At least I think she did. Not the point, anyway. The point is there’s a big fucking drop down that way, and she’s just had something pretty traumatic happen to her. Not saying she’d do anything terrible, but… go after her, yeah?

  God, I hadn’t even considered that. I’d been so wrapped up in how this might affect me, what it meant for me if she hated me afterward, that I hadn’t spared a single thought for what it might feel like to have a piece of your soul ripped out, and everything you ever felt for the center of your universe along with it. And she hadn’t run for the exit, where she might, perhaps have been able to climb down the mountainside with some judicious use of Shifting. She’d gone deeper.

  I couldn’t imagine someone like Herald doing something irrevocable, but what if she tried to climb down the drop there, or something equally desperate? There was nowhere to go down there, and I might just be too big now to fly her up.

  They were right. I had to go after her. And then I tried to force myself awake, and I couldn’t. Nothing happened, and I realized that I was still healing, and that I would be for a while.

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  Then follow her like this! Conscience insisted when I told them, like it was the most obvious thing and I was just being difficult.

  What good will that do? I asked frantically. In case you missed it, I can’t even touch her anymore!

  Yeah, but you can at least keep an eye on her. See what she does so you know where to go the moment you wake. Go!

  “Do as she says!” Instinct agreed. “The Herald must not come to harm!”

  Feeling stupid, self-centered, and useless, I did as they’d said. It was the least I could do, I figured; it wasn’t as though having a ghost hovering over her could possibly bother Herald. She couldn’t feel me anymore than I could her.

  Navigating the passages wasn’t exactly easy. I was used to just homing in on someone and moving to them almost instantly. And while I could drift around like a worse version of my shadow form, I couldn’t actually see the landscape around me. I could see souls, and I could see a living body, like my own, if it wasn’t currently occupied—which raised some philosophical questions I really didn’t want to think about, then or ever—but I couldn’t see the rock around me. Nor could I home in on Herald, now that our link was gone, and I couldn’t see her in the distance because she just blended into the background. So I had to go off of memory. I drifted, hoping that I remembered the twists and turns of the passage correctly and that I’d be able to make her out when I got close enough. To my amazement I actually did it! Sure, I must have been off by dozens of yards in every dimension, but after a while of increasingly desperate searching in the empty nothing I picked out a patch above me that was slightly more gray than black.

  When I approached her she was still. For a moment I imagined the worst, that she’d slipped and fallen down the long drop, but when I looked closer her shape was generally vertical rather than horizontal. I could tell that much at least. My relief was enormous; she must have been somewhere near the top of the drop, rather than at the bottom.

  And then… we just waited there. I floated in so that I was beside her, as close as we’d been when she was still huddled against my body, and I could almost pretend that I was cuddling her and giving her comfort. I knew how desperately sad that was of me, but I didn’t care. If pretending was all I had, then for a short while at least I would take it.

  I didn’t really keep track of time, but it must have been hours before she stirred again. I followed her slow progress back up the passage, and when she stopped beside my nest, I thought that was it. She was taking a last look before leaving me forever. When she moved over to where I knew that the bag with all my treasure in it was, I wasn’t even mad. She deserved that and so much more for what I’d taken from her. I just hoped she could make it down the mountain with it.

  And then… she didn’t leave. She didn’t take the gold and walk out of my life. Instead she moved to my side and stayed there, pressing in close like she had for so many months. She stayed.

  And as I hung there, absolutely overwhelmed and with my mind practically blank at what I was seeing, there came an unmistakable and completely unexpected rush, and Instinct broke the silence, surprised and delighted.

  “Our hoard has grown!” she exulted. “A minor threshold has been reached!”

  Gods and Mercies, it had! My mind was numb with just… relief and love and such immense gratitude, and I had to somehow make a choice! How was I supposed to even parse the information that flooded into my mind, reminding me of my choices, when the only coherent thoughts I could form were about how utterly undeserving I was of Herald’s mercy, loyalty, and forgiveness?

  Luckily my two companions could sense my turmoil, and Instinct continued.

  “How shall we increase our power?” she asked. “Physical greatness, to increase the power of our body in all ways, at a cost? Adamantine claws, that our teeth and claws may rend stone and steel? Acid spit, for foes who resist our venom? Kin-sense, that we may always find our own? Or Life-sense, so no living thing may evade our notice? Hurry, now. We must make a choice!”

  I can’t, I whispered. I could already feel the pressure building, which would soon turn into an intolerable pain. A pain which I now had to assume was literally soul-deep, since I was currently looking down on my body and couldn’t even feel Herald pressed against it. You do it. One of us has to pick. You do it.

  Perhaps that was a stupid offer to make, given how enamored Instinct had always been with Physical Greatness. Mother had warned us what a slippery slope that one was; it made you big and strong, sure, but it clouded your mind, making you more likely to take it again, and again, and again, until you were little more than a big, massively destructive animal. But I really couldn’t. I couldn’t weigh the pros and cons of what I had available, or even recall the arguments I’d already made for each. All I could think of was how Herald was still there; not trying to descend the mountain side; not even hiding somewhere she didn’t have to look at me. I’d freed her. She’d gone to have a think about that. And she’d come back to me, making her position clear by adding treasure to my hoard.

  She wasn’t going anywhere. What else could be more important to think about than that?

  Instinct seized on the opportunity I’d given her without hesitation. “Adamantine claws, then! The next time we fall on that horrid ruddy lizard, we shall tear her wings from her body, and leave her a pile of so much quivering meat, blood, and bone!”

  The second to last thing I thought before the changes brought on by the growth of my hoard overtook me and ripped me from the dreamscape was, Oh, that was nice of her. Mak will like that. The very last thing was, I hope Herald is still here when I wake.

  I woke to hunger, a feeling of emptiness that was both physical and magical, and to an acute sense of absence.

  I couldn’t feel Herald anywhere.

  For a moment I panicked. My eyes flew open and I searched around the small cavern frantically as I had the sudden, terrible thought that something had happened to her. Then came the equally terrible memory of what I’d done, and a soft, high-pitched wail escaped me as I let my head fall back to the coin-strewn cloth that made up the bed of my nest.

  Quick steps echoed through the passage, and I looked up in time to see Herald burst into the cavern. Seeing me awake she relaxed, then walked slowly, almost hesitantly, to my side. There she knelt by my head and reached out, again with that hint of hesitation, to scratch around the base of my broken left horn.

  “I—” she began, her voice cutting off thickly before she sniffed and tried again. “I cannot feel you,” she said this time, each word seeming to take immense effort.

  “I can’t feel you either,” I whispered as I leaned my head into her scratching fingers, my voice raspy from pain and underuse. Then I gathered all my courage and asked the most important question of my life. “Do you hate me?”

  “I… am scared,” she replied. “And angry. Outraged. Indignant. I— I am feeling a host of things. I have cried a lot, and screamed a lot of the things I have been feeling into that pit at the bottom of this passage. But none of them was hate. No, Draka, my big, silly, terrifying lizard of a sister. No. I don’t hate you.”

  My second question was almost as important. “Do you still love me?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I do. I most definitely do. But this love is different from before. It does not consume me. It is… not uncertain, but it is not the blind conviction that I remember. That I already miss. Mercies, it is frightening how much I miss it. The world was so simple a few days ago. Now…” She shrugged.

  I should have stopped there. She didn’t hate me. She still loved me. She even loved me in a healthier way. That was amazing. Those were the most wonderful answers she could have possibly given me under the circumstances. But there was one more thing I needed an answer to, whether I wanted it or not. “And— and Mak,” I asked. “What I’ve done to her—”

  “Will you free her as well?” Herald asked, cutting me off.

  My reply was barely a whisper, just a low rumble at the edge of hearing. “I think I have to. Her and… some others.”

  “And if she hates it? I already miss it—that absolute certainty that there was nothing I could do to lose your affection, and that there was nothing you could not make right in the world. And Mak—I know how much happier she is now. I did not see it before, the strain she was under, the misery she hid from us, but the difference is stark. What will you do if she begs you to take her back?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “The thought of seeing her miserable, I can’t stand it. But I… I’ll have to give her a few weeks, I suppose. Leave you all alone for a few weeks, and see how she feels after that.”

  “And me?” she breathed. “If I asked, would you—”

  “Don’t ask me,” I said quickly, pleading with her to listen. “Not unless you’re absolutely sure. Because yes, I would. In a heartbeat. Without even pausing to think. The moment you finished the sentence I’d have you wrapped up in my shadows as gently as I could, and I’d cook you until you wouldn’t even remember a time when you weren’t a part of me. So don’t ask. Please don’t ask. Not unless you’re absolutely sure.”

  “Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”

  Despite my earnest plea for her to think about it, I could see the conflict in her eyes. She’d meant what she’d said, about missing the feeling of being mine. Of being part of me—I couldn’t think of it any other way. A part of her at least wanted to beg me, right now, to take her back. And I could. Instinct was home. Herald was right there. I could do it. I could even free her again in the future if she changed her mind.

  But she wouldn’t. If I claimed her again she’d never ask to be free, and I couldn’t say for sure that I’d be able to do it again on my own initiative. So to be sure that she didn’t say anything irreversible, I whispered, “Please don’t. Not now. Give it a few weeks to be sure.”

  “A few weeks,” she whispered back, her fingers never stopping their scratching.

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