Lira's ghost hovered, her form shimmering like heat over coals. The dagger in her hand—a twin to the one Lyra had wielded—gleamed with borrowed time. Behind her, the burned forest groaned, skeletal trees bending as if to listen.
Kael cradled Lyra's body, her chest still. "You're not real."
"Aren't I?" Lira's voice was a hollow echo. She knelt, her spectral fingers brushing Lyra's face. "You let Gideon remake me. This is what's left."
Lyra's eyes flew open, glowing cobalt. She seized Lira's wrist, her voice Gideon's: "And you're what's unnecessary."
The ghost recoiled. "You… monster."
Kael staggered back as Lyra's reanimated body rose, movements puppet-jerky. Gideon's laughter slithered from her throat. "She's better this way. No memories, no regrets. Just… purpose."
Lira's ghost lunged, dagger aimed at Lyra's heart. Kael intercepted, taking the blade in his shoulder. Time-forged steel seared his flesh, aging the wound instantly.
"Move," the ghost hissed. "She's not her anymore."
Lyra—Gideon—snarled and flung out a hand. The forest's ash swirled into a cyclone, burying Lira's ghost under a crushing wave.
"Pathetic," Gideon spat. "Even dead, she's sentimental."
Kael wrenched the dagger free, its hilt scorching his palm. "And you're a coward. Always hiding in others."
Lyra's head tilted, a mockery of curiosity. "Where else should I be?" Her hand pressed to Kael's chest. "You're running out of time, Prince. Let me in. Together, we could—"
He stabbed her.
Not Lyra—himself.
The dagger's edge sank into his ribs, stealing years from his life. Agony erupted, but so did light—a final burst of stolen time that ripped Gideon's control from Lyra's body. She collapsed, gasping, as Kael's knees buckled.
Lira's ghost emerged from the ash, her form flickering. "Why?"
"She's… still in there," Kael choked, blood staining his teeth. "Had to… try."
The ghost knelt, her dagger dissolving. "You'll die."
"Knew that… when I… followed her."
Lyra stirred, her eyes amber but unfocused. "Kael?"
Lira's ghost shuddered, fading. "Fix what I couldn't."
As she vanished, the ash cyclone stilled. Lyra crawled to Kael, her hands glowing blue. "No, no—stay awake!"
He gripped her wrist. "Don't… use his power. Not for me."
"I'll kill him," she whispered, tears cutting through the grime on her face. "I'll tear him out of time itself."
Kael's vision darkened. "Already… did."
The forest erupted in howls—not hunters, but wolves with clockwork fangs. Lyra stood, her grief hardening into something lethal. She raised the time-forged dagger.
"Come on, then!"
The first wolf lunged. She sidestepped, slashing its throat. Rust bloomed from the wound, corroding it to dust. The pack circled, but Lyra moved like vengeance incarnate—each strike precise, each kill buying seconds.
Kael watched, fading, as she fought. She's beautiful, he thought. And I'm out of time.
The last wolf fell. Lyra sprinted back, pressing her palm to his wound. Cold seeped into him—Gideon's power, twisted into a lifeline.
"No!" she screamed as his heartbeat stuttered. "You don't get to leave me alone!"
The world fractured.
When Kael awoke, dawn pierced the ash clouds. Lyra slept beside him, her hand fused to his chest by a lattice of blue veins. His wound was scarred over, but her skin had grayed, her hair streaked with white.
She'd forced his survival—and paid with her own time.
Kael pried her hand free. Her eyes fluttered open, aged but alert. "Welcome back."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"You'd prefer I let you die?"
"Yes."
She slapped him. "Never say that again."
The forest trembled. Distant figures emerged—silhouettes with Gideon's cobalt eyes.
Lyra stood, swaying. "We need to move."
"To where?"
She smiled, weary. "To kill a god."