“Will looked down at himself, at the knife at his feet, and remembered the knife he hadburied at the base of the tree on the Shrewsbury-Welshpool road, stained with his blood andJem’s. “All my life, since I came to the Institute, you were the mirror of my soul. I saw thegood in me in you. In your eyes alone I found grace. When you are gone from me, who willsee me like that?”There was a silence then. Jem stood as still as a statue. With his gaze Will searched for,and found, the parabatai rune on Jem’s shoulder; like his own, it had faded to a pale white.At last Jem spoke. The cool remoteness had left his voice. Will breathed in hard,remembering how much that voice had shaped the years of his growing up, its steadykindness a lighthouse beacon in the dark. “Have faith in yourself. You can be your ownmirror.”“That words have the power to changeus. Your words have changed me, Tess; they have made me a better man than I would havebeen otherwise. Life is a book, and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read. I wouldread them together with you, as many as I can, before I die—”

“All my life, since I came to the Institute, you were the mirror of my soul. I saw the good in me in you. In your eyes alone I found grace. When you are gone from me, who will see me like that?”

“Will bit at his lip. This was the last time Jem, as Jem, might ever touch him. The sharp memory went through him like a knife—of years of Jem’s light tap on his shoulder, his hand reaching to help Will up when he fell, Jem holding him back when he was furious, Will’s own hands on Jem’s thin shoulders as Jem coughed blood into his shirt. “Listen to me. I am leaving, but I am living. I will not be gone from you entirely, Will. When you fight now, I will be still by you. When you walk in the world, I will be the light at your side, the ground steady under your feet, the force that drives the sword in your hand. We are bound, beyond the oath. The Marks did not change that. The oath did not change that. It merely gave words to something that existed already.”

“Until death," Jem replied gently. "Those are the words of the oath. 'Until aught but death part thee and me.' Someday, Will, I will go where none can follow me, and I think it will be sooner rather than later. Have you ever asked yourself why I agreed to be your parabatai?""No better offers forthcoming?" Will tried for humor, but his voice cracked like glass."I thought you needed me," Jem said. "There is a wall you have built about yourself, Will, and I have never asked you why. But no one should shoulder every burden alone. I thought you would let me inside if I became your parabatai, and then you would have at least someone to lean upon. I did wonder what my death would mean for you. I used to fear it, for your sake. I feared you would be left alone inside that wall. But now... something has changed. I do not know why. But I know that it is true.""That what is true?" Will's fingers were still digging into Jem's wrist. "That the wall is coming down.”

“I told you before, Jem, that you would not leave me," Will said, his bloody hand on the hilt of the dagger. " And you are still with me. When I breath, I will think of you, for without you I would have been dead years ago. When I wake up and when I sleep, when I lift up my hands to defend myself or when I lie down to die, you will be with me. You say we are born again. I say there is a river that divides the dead and the living. What I do know is that if we are born again, I will meet you in another life, if there is a river, you will wait on the shores for me to come to you, so we can cross together." Will took a deep breath and let go of the knife. He drew his hand back. The cut on his palm was already healing- the result of the half dozen iratzes on his skin. " You hear that, James Carstairs? We are bound, you and I, over the divide of death, down through whatever generations may come. Forever." He rose to his feet and looked down at the knife. The knife was Jem's, the blood was his. This spot of ground, whether he could ever find it again, whether he lived to try, would be theirs.He turned around to walk to Balios, towards Wales and Tessa. He did not look back.”

“Ah, I found you." Came a voice behind me. My heart skipped a beat as a smile spread across my face. How do I already know his voice? 'My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of thy tongue’s uttering, yet I know the sound.' I remembered the line from Romeo and Juliet. I could not forget Ariston's voice if I tried. At the sound, all thoughts of the odd occurrence faded. I turned around to see Ariston Crete walking towards me. I realized when I saw him that there was a part of my mind that had wondered if he was real, if I had not only imagined his beauty, but clearly I had not. Somehow, he is real, right down to his ancient eyes. It felt just as indescribable to look into his eyes as it had before.”