"Jill—" Clive moved forward, one hand reaching toward her. But a beam of moonlight cut between them. It carved a line in the moss-covered stone forming a barrier of light around her. The light was solid. When he pressed against it, it pushed back with the force of a wall.

  “Don’t.” Lucia’s fingers closed around his wrist. “It’s dangerous, Clive.” Her grip was firm, holding him back. “Look at her. She could—"

  He pulled away, shaking off her grip. “She’s Jill.”

  He didn't wait for Lucia's response. He pushed forward, both hands reaching for the moonlight barrier.

  The light seared his palms on contact. The smell of burnt flesh hit his nostrils. He gasped but didn't pull back. Instead, he pressed harder, as if he could force his way through by sheer will.

  "Jill, please—" His voice cracked. "Just let me through.”

  The barrier held. Unyielding as stone, burning like the sun's surface.

  Behind him, Lucia sucked in a breath. "Clive, your hands—"

  He ignored her. His vision blurred from the pain, but he kept his eyes locked on Jill's face through the shimmering light. Looking for recognition. For anything that resembled the woman he'd known.

  "Jill," he tried again. "Please.”

  Something flickered across her face then.

  "Clive, no..." She looked down, then back at him. Her silver eyes had gone distant. "Miracles was right."

  The barrier pulsed once, and the burning intensified. Clive's hands finally jerked back involuntarily, blistered and red.

  "You're not the Clive I know," Jill said quietly.

  Clive shook his head, cradling his burnt hands. "Jill, that's not—I'm still me. I'm still the same person you—"

  "Liar." Her voice rose. "The Clive I knew would never stand with them." She gestured past him, toward the distant battlefield where Prince Sion's forces fought. "These people who attacked me. San Dioral's dogs. A kingdom of pretenders and invaders."

  She rose one hand, and the moonlight around her responded instantly. Beams split off from the main pillar, lancing down from the moon overhead. One, two, five, a dozen silver spears of light rained down on him.

  "What?” Clive said, even as the light struck his shoulder. It felt like being branded with white-hot iron. Another caught his chest and a third, his thigh.

  His legs buckled. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. The burnt flesh of his palms screamed as they hit stone. But he didn’t stop.

  “Jill—” He forced himself up and pressed forward. Another beam struck his back. “I didn't know— This is all just—”

  A beam grazed his temple. His vision whited out for a heartbeat. When it cleared, he was still moving. Closing the distance to that barrier of light.

  "Please—" He pleaded. "I've been waiting for you. Every single night. I looked at the moon and I thought of you. I missed you—"

  His hand touched the barrier again. The same searing pain. He kept it there anyway, pressing against the light as if he could dissolve it through sheer desperation.

  Through the shimmering barrier, he saw Jill's face soften. The bombardment stopped.

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  "Clive..." Jill's voice regained its warmth. The glow in her eyes dimmed, just slightly. She took a step closer to the barrier from her side. "Is it... is it really you?"

  "It's me." He could barely get the words out. His whole body shook from pain and exhaustion. "It's always been me."

  She stood there, just on the other side of that wall of light. So close. Her hand lifted, hovering near where his pressed against the barrier. Not quite touching.

  "Miracles warned me." Her voice was softer now. "She said you'd be different. That this world would change you. That you would be someone else." She searched his eyes. "I didn't want to believe it."

  "I don't know who Miracles is." Clive's vision blurred—whether from pain or tears, he couldn't tell. "But Jill, I'm still me. I'm still—" His voice cracked. "I'm still the man from all those years back."

  Something broke in her expression. The silver in her eyes flickered, revealing glimpses of the amber he remembered.

  The barrier wavered.

  "Clive—"

  "I never stopped loving you." The words tumbled out of Clive. "Not for a single day. Not for a single moment. This world, these people—none of it changes what you meant to me. What you mean to me."

  The barrier thinned, turning translucent instead of solid.

  Jill's hand passed through it. Her fingers touched his cheek, cold but gentle. Real. The contact sent a different kind of shock through him. Not pain, but something that hurt worse and better all at once.

  "I'm sorry." Her voice broke. "I'm so sorry. I just—when I saw you with her, with them—" Tears traced down her luminescent cheeks. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you'd chosen this world over us."

  "Never." Clive leaned into her touch despite the cold that was spreading from her fingers. "I could never—"

  The barrier dissolved completely.

  Jill closed the distance between them in an instant. Her arms wrapped around him, and he pulled her close despite the burning protests of his injuries. She was cold as moonlight against him, and her embrace hurt everywhere it touched his burns, but he didn't care.

  He held her like she might disappear if he loosened his grip.

  "I missed you," she whispered against his shoulder. "I missed you so much it felt like dying all over again."

  "I know." His voice came muffled against her silver hair. "I know. Me too."

  Behind them, Lucia's voice cut through the moment.

  "Clive. Her aura—it's not stable."

  Jill's arms tightened around him. The moonlight that haloed her pulsed erratically.

  "Jill?" He tried to pull back enough to see her face.

  Her grip didn't loosen. "Don't. Don't pull away. Let’s go home Clive. Just the two of us. Like it should have been."

  The moonlight around her flared brilliant white.

  Something crystallized in the air between them. He felt it before he saw it. Pressure built in his chest. Then pain. Pure and sharp pain.

  He looked down. A blade of solid moonlight had pierced straight through his sternum. It protruded from his chest, glowing silver-white. Beautiful and horrifying. His blood ran down its length, steaming where it touched the light.

  His knees gave out, but Jill held him upright, still holding him close. Her cheek pressed against his. Her voice whispered in his ear, but the words were becoming distant and muffled. “We’re going home now.”

  Somewhere far away, Lucia screamed his name.

  The sound was distorted. His vision tunneled, darkness creeping in from the edges. The pain in his chest had gone from agony to numbness.

  Glass shattered.

  Heat exploded across his right side. Jill's arms jerked away from him. She stumbled back, moonlight flickering as Lucia's chemical fire splashed across her. The blade in his chest wavered, began to dissipate.

  He fell.

  The ground rushed up to meet him. Above him, the moon spun lazily across his darkening vision. More shattering glass. Lucia's voice, hoarse and shouting something he couldn't make out. The whoosh of flames. A dragon's roar.

  Weight crashed down beside him. Someone's hands grabbed his shoulders.

  "—got you, stay with me, Clive, stay—"

  A shadow blocked out the moon.

  The sound of fighting erupted. Steel on light. Fire against moonbeam. Dragons snarling. More shouting. Multiple people now.

  Someone was dragging him backward. Away from Jill. Away from the moonlight. His body left a dark trail across the moss-covered stones.

  "—massive internal damage, I don't know if I have anything—"

  "—just keep him alive, we need to—"

  The voices fractured, overlapping, becoming meaningless.

  Through the chaos, through the haze of shock and blood loss, he caught one last glimpse of Jill. She stood in her pillar of moonlight, silver hair floating around her face, eyes blazing with that terrible divine glow.

  The world narrowed to sensation without meaning. Cold stone beneath him. Warm liquid spreading across his chest. Pressure on his chest, trying to stop the bleeding.

  "Clive, please—" Lucia's face appeared above him, streaked with tears and soot. "Please don't die. Not like this."

  He tried to respond. Couldn't. His lips moved but no sound came out.

  The darkness took him.

  Every night he looked at the moon and wished. The moon looked back. And when she finally came down to answer, she brought all the cold of heaven with her.

  —Goddess of Stories and Theatregoing