Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SERAFINA
W e don’t find anything of value in the village near the portal, so we set off as soon as the first rays of light tantalize the ground.
Without a map, we’re flying blind, and a part of me wonders if this search is completely hopeless, especially as the morning edges on and nothing close to a hint crosses our paths. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, but I have faith we’ll find it.
Something here… It’s propelling me forward, whispering that answers are within my reach. Answers and a cure.
I wobble slightly but manage to catch myself, leaning my hands on my hips and taking deep, even breaths to force oxygen to my tight, tired muscles.
“Drink some,” Foster encourages, pressing a water bottle into my hands, his brow wrinkled as he studies me.
Apparently, he caught my little slip-up. I sigh but acquiesce, gulping down the fresh water, mildly cool from the metal bottle.
“If we had more time, I’d want to explore all the flora here,” Foster murmurs, pushing his glasses up his nose as he studies the large, mouthwatering-looking purple berries that bloom in the silver bushes off the overgrown path. “Xander promised the water would be safe for us, but studying the plants and animals here fell out of favor ages ago since no one ever expected to come back.”
“It makes sense.” I slip the water bottle back into the holder on his bag and then stretch my arms across my body as I try to ease the weight of my pack pressing into my shoulder blades. “It was probably hard enough for all the fae to learn about Earth and keep themselves hidden. Constantly focusing on a world they didn’t plan to go back to didn’t really make sense.”
“How much longer do you want to keep heading this way?” Kian asks, settling himself onto the stone of the path before rummaging in his bag and pulling out a protein bar. He hands it to me with a sweet smile. “Keep your energy up. You know Xander will kick our asses if anything happens to you.”
A pang hits me for a moment, thinking of the candy bars that Gage would always press into my hands, his gruff orders for me to eat always making me smile.
I miss him.
I chuckle, peeling open the wrapper and taking a big bite. “I’m not afraid of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Whip Obsessed,” I tease, even as I scarf down the bar.
Tristan wraps an arm around my waist and settles his head on my shoulder so that our cheeks press against each other. “Just because you’ll enjoy his punishments doesn’t mean the rest of us will.”
I giggle and rub my cheek against his.
Well, he’s probably right. I’m certainly not going to admit it though.
“Let’s go a little bit farther this way and see if we hit another path,” I decide, tucking away my wrapper. Faerie has been through enough; she certainly doesn’t need me littering and cluttering up her raw beauty. “It’s likely the roads lead somewhere—they wouldn’t have been built otherwise.”
Okay, so, maybe it’s reaching, but it sounded good when they all looked to me for a decision that morning. We have yet to find an offshoot path, spending our day hiking through colorful forests of flower stems and flowing meadows of what look like rainbow wheat.
A small part of my brain wonders if this is why I’m obsessed with glitter and color, all of this having been what I first saw and experienced as a child. There must have been a reason my birth parents came here, when there was so much of a risk to my life—to all of our lives—by exposing us to the virus. As an infant, I was probably even more likely to catch the disease. Something must have forced them to sneak me into this world and leave me alone for my adoptive parents to find.
Or maybe my biological parents have been here this entire time…
But no. That’s impossible, isn’t it? There are no fae left on this planet. They all died out.
My intuition causes the skin on the back of my neck to prickle.
They are all dead…right?
“Sounds like a plan, Lost,” Foster assures me.
Tristan laughs, tugging me closer against him. “That nickname is especially problematic in moments like this, dude.”
I press a hand over my lips, hiding my smirk. Foster merely ignores his friend and strides off down the path ahead of us. Tristan glances at me sideways, and though there are still shadows in his eyes, I can see a flicker of the boy I originally met.
The one I fell in love with.
Maybe being here in Faerie is helping us in ways I didn’t even think of.
Another hour passes as we walk, all of us keeping a close eye out for anything else like the shade that nearly got us on our first trip, but nothing approaches us. The bright colors all start to blend together, and I blink, hard, trying to clear my eyes. I’ve heard of going snow blind, but this is absolutely ridiculous.
A flash of white, so at odds with the colorful surroundings, makes me pause.
“Hold up,” I call out, squinting to try to see better.
The breeze makes the flowers sway, altering the light overhead, but once again, there comes a flash of white.
“What do you see?” Kian whispers by my ear.
I make a noise in my throat and work my way over to the flowers, pushing them aside. There, hidden by the overgrowth, is another path. Rather than the gray stones we’ve walked on until now, this path is purely white, nearly pearlescent.
“Follow the yellow brick road,” I murmur, taking a step onto it.
“Does that make me the Tin Man?” Tristan asks with a laugh.
“Dude,” Kian says, knocking his shoulder against his cousin’s. “You’re Toto, of course, since, you know…shifter.”
Tristan groans. “No way. That’s too on the nose.”
I ignore their arguing and share a quick glance with Foster before I head down the path. As we curve through the flowers, his fingers find mine and squeeze lightly.
It isn’t long before a building appears in front of us, one unlike the others we’ve spotted so far. Where before we’ve seen quaint cottages, this sprawling stone and wood structure looks more like a castle. It weaves into the blooms high above us, hiding in plain sight, the turrets and gables piercing the fluffy clouds above. The entrance, once grand, is now a tangle of twisted purple ivy, the large wooden doors long rotted and broken, their hinges rusted with time.
“I’m really hoping we won’t find the wizard,” Tristan mutters, and the quick thump followed by a yelp clearly indicates Kian whacked him in response.
“That makes two of us,” I agree, pushing at the door.
The massive wooden door opens with an ominous creak, allowing us all inside. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment, damp wood, and the faintest hint of something sweet, like wildflowers in bloom.
“What is this place?” Kian whispers, edging up beside me, his hand flexing and releasing as if he’s fighting the urge to grab a weapon.
“I guess we’ll find out.” I lift my chin, moving forward through the hallways.
Cavernous rooms full of stained-glass windows pass us by, but not even a single piece of furnishing remains. Each empty room we pass makes something tighten in my chest, anxiety building with every step.
A long, wide hallway catches my eye to the right, and I angle down it, my heart thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings.
Bright light at the end of the corridor calls to us, lightening the gloom, and I find myself holding my breath as we approach. I have to blink against the glare, my watering eyes taking a moment to adjust before Foster makes a sound suspiciously like a moan from by my side.
I can’t say I blame him as I take in the room. The wall facing us is made of windows, most covered by wooden panels, but one is bright and open, allowing light to flood the room and illuminate row after row of books, the stacks nearly touching the ceiling.
Throughout the center of the room are long wooden tables and benches with fluffy navy cushions inviting you to grab a book and settle in. There appears to be two levels, though I don’t see a staircase to get to the second one. I wonder if it’s hidden somewhere in the stacks.
The floors are covered with a carpet of soft moss, a velvety green that thrives in the dim light. Shafts of pale, otherworldly moonlight filter through the opened wall, casting ghostly shadows across the space and illuminating corners that seem to hold memories of time forgotten. In some areas, the furniture has turned to gnarled wood, roots twisting from old chairs and tables, as though the very library has grown from the earth itself.
In the farthest corner, an enormous stone fireplace stands cold, its hearth long abandoned. Above it, a faded tapestry still clings to the wall, depicting a scene of the fae courts—immortal and enigmatic, forever frozen in a moment of regal celebration. Despite the decay, the air remains full of enchantment, as if the very walls of this place remember the magic once housed here, and still, in some way, hold on to it.
The silence is profound, broken only by the occasional creak of old wood settling or the soft rustle of unseen creatures flitting through the space. Candles are lit throughout, the color of the flames a vibrant shade of pink. When Kian attempts to blow one out, it simply sways slightly but remains burning.
Surprisingly enough, there’s no dust. I have no idea if it’s because someone has been here recently or if magic is at work, like it is for the candles. For all of our sakes, I hope it’s the latter.
“I’m not sure if this is the information we’re looking for, but it’s certainly information,” Kian drawls, reaching up to ruffle his hair, taking in the walls of books.
It’ll take us an eternity to read them all, but at least we finally have a starting point.
Something in these tomes will help us save V. I’ll look for however long it takes.
“Flip through as fast as you can,” Foster suggests. “Look for anything on skinwalkers or the virus or strange illnesses.”
Tristan and Kian both nod, and I wind through the shelves, trailing my fingers over the books as if waiting for one of them to speak to me.
I’m moderately stunned to discover most of the books are in English. Is that a common language here? Or at least…was it, before the world ended? Or has someone translated these texts in the past one hundred years? That could explain the lack of dust…
But no. That would imply fae still live on this planet or that a human ventured here to study these ancient texts.
I drag a finger down the spine of a red book as a lead weight takes up residence in my chest.
I wish my other mates were here. Gage would be sulking in a corner, a perpetual scowl on his face as he pores over each book, his frustration growing at the lack of answers. Xander would be flipping through the pages with an efficiency that leaves me baffled, already knowing exactly what to look for. Devyn would patrol the perimeter, searching for threats, while V…
Who the fuck knows what my psychotic prince would do? Probably slap one of the ancient books with his penis and say something like, “This book has been blessed by the prince.”
Fuck, I miss them.
“Um…Sera? Guys?” Tristan’s voice sounds choked, echoing down to me, and I dart from the stacks. He’s apparently found a ladder to the second floor as he stands on a balcony above my head, his back to me. “You should probably see this.”
Foster’s quicker than I am, already halfway up the ladder, but I immediately follow behind him, Kian on my heels. Foster’s breath catches as he reaches the landing, and when I join him, mine does the same.
The painting in front of us is of a woman, her long, deep-pink hair in stunning ringlets. Her eyes are a brilliant, sparkling blue, setting off her fair skin. The portrait looks old . Very old. The corners are yellowed with age and have begun to curl in on themselves.
“Who is that?” I don’t know if I whisper or yell, my sole focus on the woman who could be my sister in the painting.
We aren’t identical, the differences in our faces clear, but there are enough similarities there that I find myself fingering my own pink locks in shock.
Hell, now that I’m looking closer, I doubt we’re even related. Her skin is darker than mine, and her features are rounder. Still, that pink hair…
“No idea,” Foster admits, gently touching the golden frame. “Grab some books,” he orders, reaching for the shelves nearest the painting.
Kian, Tristan, and I do the same before carefully descending the ladder and settling onto the benches beside a few candles.
The tower of books beside us grows as we flip through, but nothing stands out. I’m no closer to saving V than I was before I arrived here.
I grunt as I settle the last onto the stack and then move back towards the ladder.
Boom ! The loud noise echoes around the room, and I freeze.
We are not alone.