Three days had passed since I'd arrived in Alar. My days followed a gentle rhythm — sleeping, sunbathing, swimming, eating fresh fruit, simply resting. Evenings I spent in the library with Grandfather, reading quietly together or sitting in that comfortable silence that flows like warm balm over the soul when shared with someone you love.

  My mother delighted me most of all. I saw the living spark return to her eyes, genuine interest in life again. For eight years she'd moved through the world like a doll, continuing simply because she had to—because I needed her. Now she laughed sincerely, joked, smiled constantly. Her face had grown younger somehow. Usually we spent the day together at the beach, and in the evenings she'd disappear on dates with her new suitor. I hoped she'd introduce us soon. I desperately wanted to meet the person who'd breathed life back into her.

  As for organizing my thoughts — the actual reason I'd come here — things were less cheerful.

  Two opposing forces warred inside me. The thirst to achieve the goal I'd pursued for so long. And the desire to simply live, work meaningfully, be happy. Periodically Armon's face would rise before me, speaking those words he'd said in the Goldspire archive. Rage would surge through me mixed with despair, so intense I wanted to tear my hair out.

  In those moments, I went to the sea.

  Tonight was one of those moments.

  I'd been sitting with Grandfather in the library, then went to make tea. The fury hit without warning. I forgot about the tea, grabbed a large towel and blanket, and almost ran to the shore.

  Good thing we had a private beach. I could swim naked without worry.

  I stripped and plunged in, swimming hard for at least half an hour until the rage finally loosened its grip. When I emerged, I wrapped myself in the towel like a cocoon, spread the blanket on the sand, and lay down to watch the dark waves.

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  It must have been nearly eleven. A huge orange moon illuminated everything, casting a long golden path across the water. The rhythmic sound of waves lulled me.

  I didn't notice when I fell asleep.

  ***

  In my dream, a woman rose directly from the dark waves.

  She was extraordinarily beautiful — skin impossibly pale, almost translucent, shimmering in the moonlight. Long silver hair rippled around her shoulders, catching the lunar glow. She settled onto the blanket beside me, smiled, and stroked my head.

  "Hello, water child." Her voice was melodic, otherworldly. "We've been waiting to speak with you. You haven't given us the opportunity until now."

  I stared at her, mesmerized. She was mystically, impossibly beautiful.

  "Who are you?" My voice came out hoarse.

  She shook her head gently. "That doesn't matter."

  "Then what does?"

  "That you need to talk with us."

  "With who? Talk about what?"

  She laughed softly. "So many questions. But I'm not here to give you answers. I came to listen. You have something to tell us."

  My confusion deepened. I had no idea what she meant.

  "Tell us your deepest fear, child." Her gaze pierced through me. "The one that's been eating you from the inside for years. The one that prevents you from living peacefully and building happiness. The one that lets more darkness into you with each passing day."

  My consciousness suddenly cleared.

  And I told her everything.

  The darkest thoughts I'd been too afraid to examine even in my own mind. How I wanted Armon to suffer. How I fantasized about his death in elaborate detail. How the need for vengeance had slowly poisoned everything good in my life. How I'd become so consumed by hatred that I barely recognized myself anymore. How I was terrified that even if Armon died, the darkness inside me wouldn't leave. That I'd already become the monster I was chasing.

  The words poured out like water from a broken dam. When I finally finished, I felt the icy grip around my heart release. I could breathe again.

  "Now everything will be better, child." She touched my face with impossible gentleness. "Never forget and never doubt — water gives you strength."

  She stood. Without saying goodbye, she walked back toward the sea and slowly dissolved into it, as if she'd never been solid at all.

  I gasped awake.

  The waves still crashed rhythmically against the shore. The orange moon hung overhead, silent witness.

  Had it been a dream?

  Or something else entirely?