Lyra Wanderlight's Arc

Chapter 12 of 14

Lyra held the bracelet fragment over the water and watched the blade-wielder's head turn. The movement was slight, but it confirmed what she'd suspected: the fragments pulled at each other with the same force that had dragged her across ravines and through caves. She could use that. The question was whether creating a distraction would be enough, or whether it would simply draw the figure's attention to what she carried. Diaspor shifted beside her, his hand still on his pack. The wolf box inside had survived Kess's death. The blade in the reflection had caused it. Lyra lowered the bracelet back to her chest and felt its cold hum settle against her amulet. "We go around," she said quietly. "Not through." She stepped toward the edge of the clearing, where the black stones met scorched lavender ground. The earth there bore a circular burn pattern, melted rock fragments radiating outward like frozen ripples. Something powerful had landed here once. Or been stopped here. The midnight-robed figure didn't move, but the small winged creatures overhead shifted their pattern. Lyra held up the bracelet fragment and let it catch what little light filtered through the swarm. The creatures veered toward it immediately. Diaspor sucked in a breath. "What are you doing?" Lyra didn't answer. She threw the fragment toward the far side of the clearing. The figure moved faster than she'd expected. Robes billowed as the blade-wielder crossed the scorched ground in three strides, reaching for the tumbling fragment. But the figure stopped mid-reach and turned back toward Lyra. The blade lowered. "Diaspor Aspenwind," a voice said from within the hood. Not a question. A statement. Lyra's amulet flared cold against her chest. She looked at Diaspor and saw his face go pale. The figure reached into their robes and pulled out something small that caught the light—a crystalline portrait that shifted colors as it moved. Diaspor's face, frozen in faceted glass. The blade-wielder had known his name before they'd ever arrived. Lyra's planned confrontation dissolved in an instant. This wasn't about the fragment. It wasn't about stopping someone from claiming another piece. The figure had been waiting specifically for Diaspor. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward the ledge they'd come from. The figure made no move to follow, just stood there holding the portrait and watching them retreat. Lyra's amulet went quiet for the first time since the bridge, its pull vanishing as if it had never existed. The fragment she'd thrown lay on the ground between them and the robed figure, unclaimed. She'd learned something crucial: the person collecting fragments wasn't just hunting power. They were hunting people. And they'd been tracking Diaspor long before Kess had died.