POV: Lyra

I didn’t just find my voice.

I found the song the world had been waiting to hear since the beginning of time.

It started as pain.

A sharp, tearing pressure bloomed in my chest, right where the medallion burned against my skin. The crack in its gold widened with a sound like ice breaking on a frozen lake, and light spilled out not pearlescent, not violet, but something warmer, older, and alive.

I gasped, air rushing into my lungs as if I had been drowning my entire life and only just ...