The stardust touched my hands for less than a second. I closed my fingers around it, but the particles slipped through and rose beyond my reach. They vanished one by one near the dark temple ceiling.
Elara left no body to bury and no grave I could visit. The repaired Ice Shard remained on the altar where her hand had been, marked with a little of my blood.
The dagger was still buried beside my heart. Each breath moved it, but I kept my eyes on that piece of crystal while my sight narrowed.
Candlelight faded from the edges, the altar became a pale shape, and then the ritual collected the rest of its price.
The last thing I saw was my blood across the white altar beside the space Elara had occupied. Then I fell forward into it.
Three years passed. Or so the people around me said.
Garru
