He finally looked up from his hands. “I just thought, if I waited a little bit . . .” He trailed off.
“I know,” Naz said. She did know. She would have done the same thing if it was Rojan who was shadowless. “But if you try to wait Vienna out until she doesn’t remember, that won’t mean that you can decide for her. It’ll just make it wrong.”
Malik buried his head in his arms.
Naz reached out and put her hand on his big, slouching shoulder. “You have to let her do this. Before she forgets she wanted to. Don’t take away the last bit of freedom she still has from her.”
DAVIDIA WAS ALREADY BESIDE THE SILENT, SEATED BODY AT the altar, talking quietly with the surface of the wall. As they crested the hill, Naz saw Gajarajan’s ears ripple slightly, like an animal catching a sound on the breeze.
“Vienna,” he said warmly. “It’s an honor to meet you at last. I’m glad you came.”
It was the first time Vienna had seen the leader of their city. She stared openmouthed at him. At the blindfolded man—unmoving, almost unaware, almost nonliving. And at its shadow behind on the wall, manlike—the same rough size, with the same motions—but not shaped like a man at all.
“Hello,” she finally whispered.
Malik was overcome with the urge to protect her and thought what was in her face was fear. But Naz could see what she was thinking. It wasn’t fear. It was hope. That was the reason she had wanted to volunteer—to give Gajarajan permission to work his dangerous magic, and possibly fail, without fear, because she’d asked him to try knowing the chances. Naz’s hands twitched, wanting to hold Vienna and cry, but she wouldn’t want it. Not from a person she no longer remembered she knew. More than that, it wasn’t Naz’s place. Malik was here, and the grief belonged to him, not her. Vienna was not her little sister.
“I know it’s been a difficult time for you, but I’m very pleased you’ve come to share what you remember about Transcendence with The Eight,” the elephant said.
“That’s not why I came,” Vienna blurted out. Malik stepped protectively in front of her, but she leaned out from behind him again. “I mean, I’ll tell you everything I remember, of course. Anything that will help,” she stammered, moving around her father completely to face Gajarajan. “But that wasn’t the reason I came.”
The elephant shifted on the wall. “What is the reason, then?”
Naz could feel Malik about to speak again. She reached out and grabbed his arm firmly to stop him—not a shake, but a hug. His other hand appeared on top of hers unconsciously. Naz squeezed as hard as she could.
“I want to volunteer,” Vienna said. “To be the next shadowless who tries to rejoin with a shadow. I know you’re close, but you’re afraid to hurt anyone else until you’re sure you can do it. But you’re never going to be sure unless you keep trying. I want you to try with me.”
Naz waited, trembling. Before them, the wall darkened as Gajarajan slowly grew. His ears unfurled, trunk lifted in a muscular, graceful S. Naz didn’t know if he was happy or insulted. He was just terrifying.
At last his trunk curled to his chin. “You’re very brave,” he said.
“Does that mean you’ll do it?”
“Yes,” the elephant said. Malik started, as if he’d been hit with something. But before he could argue, Gajarajan spoke again. “But I need something from you in return.”
Davidia glanced at the wall from where she stood. “She’s a child,” she said softly to him.
“She’s a shadowless,” Gajarajan replied. “And the only shadowless that’s seen Transcendence with her own eyes.”
Naz wanted to look at Malik’s face, but she couldn’t move. All she could do was keep watching the huge shadow spread before them. “Vienna,” Malik began.
“Tell me the price,” Vienna said to the wall.
“Vienna.” Malik took her by the shoulders. “Honey,” he pleaded, voice breaking.
“I accept,” she said fearlessly, staring into the dark shape of the elephant.
“Hear the price first,” Gajarajan said.
Vienna nodded. “Name it, then.”
“Become one of The Eight.”
They all cried out in disbelief. “You’re joking,” Naz said, incredulous.
“I’m afraid not. In fact, we may not succeed without her.”
“But you have eight already!”
“We do. But perhaps not the right eight. Transcendence is strong—and Vienna knows them better than any of the current members.” Gajarajan looked down from the wall. “It will cost her memories to take one of the eight’s places for the fight, yes. But it could also be the difference between winning and losing this last battle.”