THE BONE SHIPS : THE RISING DARK
Chapter 3: The Choice
The shore was silent.
Valeris stood at the water’s edge, the first listener’s words echoing in her mind. By becoming the door. She had closed the door. She had sealed the darkness. She had saved the world. And now the dead were asking her to undo everything she had done.
“Becoming the door,” she said. “What does that mean?”
The first listener stepped closer.
Her void-dark eyes were soft.
“It means you take my place. You become the barrier between the living and the dead. You hold the darkness at bay.”
“For how long?”
The first listener was silent for a long moment.
“Forever.”
Valeris’s throat tightened.
“I don’t want to be a door. I want to live.”
“Everyone wants to live. That’s what makes the choice so hard.”
“What choice?”
The first listener took her hands.
“You can become the door. You can hold the darkness at bay. You can save the world.”
“Or?”
“Or you can refuse. You can live your life. You can grow old. You can have children. You can be happy.”
“And the darkness?”
The first listener looked at the sea.
At the black water.
At the hunger.
“The darkness will consume the world. Slowly. Painfully. Inevitably.”
Mira stepped forward.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s lying.”
The first listener shook her head.
“I never lie. The dead cannot lie. Lies are for the living.”
“Then why should Valeris trust you?”
The first listener looked at Mira.
Her void-dark eyes were sad.
“Because I was once like her. Young. Afraid. Hopeful. I made the wrong choice. I opened the door. I destroyed the world.”
“You didn’t destroy the world. The world is still here.”
“The world is dying. The sea is black. The sky is gray. The sun is weak. And it will only get worse.”
Valeris pulled her hands away.
“I need time to think.”
The first listener nodded.
“Take all the time you need. The darkness is patient. It has waited a thousand years. It can wait a little longer.”
She stepped back.
Her feet touched the water.
She did not sink.
“I will be here. When you are ready.”
She vanished.
The ship of shadow vanished.
The sea was calm.
The Sunken Queen appeared on the horizon at dawn.
Valeris stood on the shore, watching the bone ship sail toward the harbor. The sails were white, the hull was black, the crew was familiar. Thorne stood at the bow, his gray eyes fixed on her. Isolde stood beside him, her dark hair blowing in the wind. Bram stood at the harpoon, his massive arms crossed.
The ship docked.
Thorne walked down the gangplank.
“You look different,” he said.
“Five years will do that.”
“You look older.”
“I am older.”
“You look tired.”
Valeris almost smiled.
“I am tired.”
They walked through the village together.
The people stared—not with fear, but with curiosity. They had heard stories of the Sunken Queen, of the bone captain, of the listener who had closed the door.
Thorne stopped at the edge of the shore.
“The first listener came to you,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“Because she came to me too. In my dreams. She told me about the choice.”
“What did she tell you?”
Thorne looked at the sea.
At the black water.
At the darkness.
“She told me that if Valeris becomes the door, the world will be saved. And if she refuses, the world will end.”
“What do you think I should do?”
Thorne was silent for a long moment.
“I think you should do what your heart tells you.”
“My heart is confused.”
“Then listen to your head.”
“My head is scared.”
“Then listen to your gut.”
Valeris looked at him.
“What does your gut tell you?”
Thorne smiled.
It was a sad smile, small and tired and full of years.
“My gut tells me that you were born for this. That you have been training for this your whole life. That you are the only one who can do it.”