CHAPTER 97

She could barely move. Barely think.
Gone. Where light and life had flowed
within her, there was nothing.
Not an ember. Only a droplet, just one, of
water.
She clung to it, shielded it as they
appeared, twelve figures through the portal
behind her. Filtering into this place of places,
this crossroads of eternity.
“It is done, then,” said the one with many
faces, approaching the Lock that hovered in
midair. A flick of a ghostly, ever-changing
hand and the Lock floated toward Aelin.