My mindless confidence is rewarded when the bat drops me onto the mossy tower roof. The stag of stone and metal remains rooted to the spot—though it angles its head to maintain eye contact as I pad towards it, hand outstretched.

My breath comes in quick, shallow gasps. Unlike the other mechanical beasts, this one has an Ember. The one I've sensed from the beginning. It radiates power, and the closer I get the more it pulls me in.

As I step into its shadow, it dips its head—its crystalline antlers scattering rainbow fragments of light. That's when I notice the fixtures circling its ears, connecting and attaching the antlers to one another. When the part of me that's still in control and observant realizes what I'm looking at.

The Crown of Avorand.

The Artifact of Vishka.

Its power pulses, the thrum of its Ember and mine shifting as they match one another. I fall to my knees, shaking, struck down by the impact as our essences collide and reform into one. Distantly, I feel something else break away. My mother's Ember, now freed of the Artifact's weight. Still more Embers flare into brighter relief—standing out from all the others as a full moon does the stars. Tethered to my own by radiant and unbreakable strands.

I recognize almost all of them.

Thrall. Howla. Saffryn. And one I can't quite place.

Apparently I'm not the only one to have found and bonded with an Artifact since we parted. I come back to myself, blood cold with horror as the full realization settles over me like a shroud.

I'm Rhaj of Vishka now.

The stag raises its head to look back the way I'd come. I follow its gaze towards the first tower just in time to see the bat swooping back over the half-bridge. It plucks up Rhetrien while Kai slides to a stop just below, grasping at the air—a heartbeat too late.

A shriek escapes me as a figure hurtles down the bridge towards Kai, shoving him bodily off its end.

He plummets downward. The water sprays up around him in a great arch, and then he's gone.

More beast-eaters crowd the covered rooftop. Those that aren't locked in battle with Pash and Thrall grab the remaining Heirs and haul them towards the bridge to toss them into the water.

Down below, Kai's Ember still burns. But he's not resurfacing, not moving. I cast around the Web for some way to help. Anything to do but standing here, powerless. But I can find nothing and no one near enough to be of use who isn't in the throws of transformation and agony—and I can't bring myself to use my power on them. Not now. Not like this.

So instead I dash across the roof to the stairs, practically tossing myself down two flights before I lose my patience. Stopping at the third level down, I take a running leap into the open air.

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I plunge deep into the mire-water--and for a few panicked heartbeats I'm completely disoriented as I struggle to find the way to the surface. Finally righting myself, I kick upwards until I break out into the air. Dragging in a few greedy breaths, I level out and swim for Kai. Once close enough to his Ember, I dive.

At first, I don't know what to make of what I'm seeing. The Mire makes it difficult, whirling in eddies of shimmering rainbow fragments that scatter the light and muddle my focus. My instinct is to go back to the surface, breath, and keep looking...because this cannot be Kai. I can't accept it.

But it has his Ember, hot and thrumming and unchanged. His metal arm and his clothes and his face. It has his everything—though now his body and even his hair has gone hard and translucent, shot through with metallic flecks and bands of iridescence. Like bonechrys.

A living statue.

My breath escapes me in a burst of bubbles as I struggle through the water in broad, sloppy strokes. When I finally get to Kaidin I wrap my arms about his shoulders, but he's rigid. Cold. Pressing my forehead to his, I want to scream forever as his confusion and terror pulses wildly across the Web, straight to my core. I cling to him until my lungs burn, until I'm forced to resurface for air.

As I drag in my first breath, another Ember goes bright on the Web, joining Howla, Saffryn, and the others. The final Rhaj has been chosen.

Rhetrien.

Horns blare. As I tread water, I look back up to the tiers for the first time in a while. All the spectators have been cleared out now. All save beast-eaters, my khej-mother—former Rhaj Fabienne—and the rest of the Morovani. My heart constricts, and I search the Web for the Embers of my other parents and family. I still feel them all, though distantly. Thank the Firstborn.

My muscles are already screaming with the effort of keeping my head above water even as the weight of my clothes threaten to drag me down. Casting my eyes around frantically, I search for something nearby to cling to or climb on. Catching sight of a pagoda rooftop just beneath the waters surface, I kick my way over to it, sputtering as I drag myself up.

The surviving and newly Fallen Heirs who'd been pushed into the water have all reoriented themselves already, striking out towards whichever raised surface is nearest them. The stairways, rooftops and pagodas already sheltering the few who've managed to evade both beast-eaters and Mire. The others make room for their peers beside them or reach out to help them up—only to be dragged or shoved into the water themselves.

Ears ringing with screams and shouting, my mind goes momentarily blank.

What? How could they-?

But that's when I feel it. The force battering against my Ember, fighting to gain purchase. To take control. Casting my focus across the Web, I reach out to the Heirs who've turned on the others to stop them. But there again is that same presence, shielding them.

It can only be one thing that I can think of.

Another Mirefallen. One like me.

The vast chamber echoes with an uproar of applause and cheering as the horn blares again, and a familiar voice rings out, amplified by speaker-horn.

"That's everyone!" Fabienne's triumphant tone makes me sick to my stomach. "Well done!"

A pair of beast-eaters cuts through the water towards my perch. I throw all of my energy and awareness at the Web. Tracing the power that's overcome the others to its source...far above in Morovin Toan.

There's something vaguely familiar about it—but I can't pinpoint what, nor identify who it is. And I can't take control of it, either. Again and again I throw myself at it, trying to force my way through its invisible barrier. All the while, I can feel them pushing back, trying to overcome me. But it's no use. We're too closely matched.

And now the guards are here. The larger of the two heaves himself up first, grabbing my shoulders while the other follows, producing a damp gray cloth from their pocket belt and pressing it over my face. The herbal, acidic scent burns my nostrils, and I'm enveloped in darkness.