Chapter 39
Lore
Rushing around Reyla, I slammed my shoulder against the barred door, testing its strength. I was doing the exact same thing I’d done inside the labyrinth, but I couldn’t hold myself back.
Two days was not enough time.
The metal gave the same faint hum, magic pulsing through the iron.
My head pounded harder.
“Stop.” Reyla tugged me away. “You’re hurt.” She pointed to the bunk. “Sit. Let me look at your head.”
“It’s fine.” I needed to get her out of here, but how? I tried to pull in magic, but nothing happened, either from the injury to my head or they’d placed a block on the cell.
She glared, pointing at the bunk. “I said sit.”
I smirked. Tried to, though I had a feeling it came out crooked because tears welled in her eyes. I hated seeing her hurt, and in this case, my stubbornness was adding to her pain.
When I slumped on the bunk, she climbed onto her knees behind me, gently parting my hair to look at the back of my head.
“No cuts, but damn them for hurting you. How does your head feel?”
“It’s protesting loudly.”
She slid off the bunk and gestured. “Lay down then.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But you—”
I tugged her down onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her struggling body. “Reyla. Stop.”
She stilled, pressing her face into my chest, crying even harder.
I hadn’t meant to cause her pain. A heavy weight crushed my chest, and I’d swear something vital had been broken inside me. If only I could take back every harsh word I’d ever said to her, every time I’d sneered or made her feel she was anything but perfect.
My hands felt useless. Again, it was too late. I’d already done the damage.
“I’m sorry.” Hurting her was the last thing I’d ever want to do.
“It’s not you,” she mumbled against my neck. “It’s this horrible situation.” Leaning back, she looked up at me. “You’re the one in pain. I should be comforting you, not the other way around.”
“Are we keeping score?”
She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” I cupped her pretty face, holding her still, staring into her eyes.
She needed to understand, and I’d tell her every moment I had left.
Maybe then, she’d have that when it was over.
“I love you. Not in passing, not in pieces, but wholly and with everything I am.
You were etched into my bones before I even knew your name.
I'll find you in every life, in every world.”
The odds were good this would end with us sitting right here. The thought that I could one day become a name that didn't catch in her throat broke me.
My voice cratered. “Remember me?”
“Lore.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “We’re getting out of here. We’ll steal the talisman. One flit, and we’ll be back at Evergorne, fusing the three together. Stay with me. Promise me that. Stay.”
I took her hands, memorizing the shape of her fingers like it could anchor me to this world. To her.
“I will find you.” The words scraped up my throat.
“In every life, in every world, and in every scrap of time the fates throw me into, I’ll find you.
I won’t forget you, not even after the stars burn out and time collapses in on itself.
” I held her gaze, aching with everything I didn’t know how to say, though I was determined to try. “My beautiful, fierce wife.”
“I will remember you,” she whispered. “Even when I pass, some part of me will reach for you across lifetimes, across shadows and ruin. I will find you, Lore. I’ll know you, even if I don’t understand how.
” She stroked my face, her fingers trembling.
“My soul already knows yours. It always has. And if there’s nothing left of me but ash and wind, I’ll still find my way back to you. I promise.”
Claiming her mouth, I kissed her with everything inside me, hoping to show her with my touch how much she meant, how much she would always mean to me.
I turned and laid her on the bunk, my breath catching in my throat. The room was cold, but she was warm and alive with fire and fury and grief. I needed to feel her more than anything. I splayed my hand across her shoulder before sliding it to her waist.
She reached for me like she thought I would vanish between heartbeats, her fingers tangling in the back of my shirt, dragging me down on top of her.
Braced over her, my elbows biting into the stiff mattress, I deepened our kiss, pushing past everything I wanted to say and letting my body speak for me instead. I stroked my fingers up to the delicate line of her throat, resting my thumb where her pulse throbbed.
Her hands were frantic. Tugging at my hair, my clothing. Like if she held on tightly enough, the curse wouldn’t be able to claim me.
Seconds were slipping through my fingers and all I could do was cling to her and kiss her.
She made a sound in the back of her throat, a small, broken bit of noise that splintered my heart. I kissed her deeper in answer, my hands tightening in a claim that said I was still hers. Always hers.
When we broke apart, she looked up at me with her heart in her eyes.
What did I ever do to deserve such devotion?
I was no better than anyone else. If anything, I was worse.
The things I’d done… Most because I’d had to.
Some because I’d wanted to. Despite that, the fates had given me this precious gift.
I brushed her hair back, needing her to see me.
Hear me. “I’m not leaving you. No matter what comes, no matter how dark things get, I will fight the fates themselves to stay by your side.
You’re worth fighting for, and I’m armed and ready for battle.
” I pressed my forehead against hers. “Evermore. I know I say it a lot, but it’s with my whole heart. Evermore, Wildfire.”
“Evermore,” she whispered back.
I laid down beside her and held her, wishing I could hold her forever. But no one knew if they had tomorrow. I was no different from them in that.
And we still had two days.
She sat up and leaned against the wall, dangling her feet. “Prager sucked us into the same trap, but I wonder if there are differences.”
I loved hearing the strength returning to her voice. When she cried… It sliced right through me.
Sliding off the bunk, she went to the door, where she pulled a blade and started working on the lock. I got up and looked around for another way out, though I doubted I’d find one. My gaze was caught by something scratched into the stone wall. Approaching, I crouched down to read.
Guard passes on a loop. Moira gives you a rune to open the door.
What the…?
I shook my head and read it again, finding the same message scrawled in handwriting I didn’t recognize.
“I can’t get the door open,” Reyla said softly, sheathing her blade. She strode to the bunk and sat, placing her palms on the blanket beside her thighs.
“Look at this.” I pointed.
She leaned close, reading. “How is that possible?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
She lifted her hand and lit her finger, a slick smile growing on her face. “We’re not so helpless this time, however.” Her eyes widened, and she lowered her voice. “Can you flit?”
I laid my hand on her arm and cast the spell, but we remained inside the dungeon.
“A malfunction or do you think it’s blocked?” she asked.
I tried again. Over and over until she laid a hand on my arm.
“Stop.”
“I can’t find any power to fuel the spell,” I said with a snarl.
“We’ll figure this out. We beat the labyrinth, and we’ll beat them too.” She hurried back to the door and focused her lightning on the lock.
But when footsteps echoed in the hall, her head lifted, and she bit off the lightning as she gaped to the right.
A guard walked into view, his armor gleaming in the flickering light, the sigil on his right chest showing he belonged to Irridain Court, the only difference so far from the labyrinth.
He passed with a slow gait, his hand resting against the hilt of his blade strapped to his side, magic hissing between the fingers of his other hand.
He continued to the end of the hall and turned the corner.
A few minutes later, the same guard reappeared from the opposite end of the hall.
“Another loop.” Reyla turned her head to watch him pass.
I joined her at the bars. “They may want us to think that.”
“I’ll test it.” She dug a small stone out of a loose area in the floor, palmed it, and waited.
When the guard appeared like clockwork, striding past us, she tossed it at him, hitting him in the back.
He kept walking as if nothing had happened.
“Maybe he didn’t feel it.” She pulled the small blade from its sheath in her boot, staring at it for a long while. “We have only a few weapons unless you listened to your wife and started carrying your own hidden blades.”
“Someone I know is going to be quite angry with me.”
She rolled her eyes before focusing them on the hall again. “I’ll throw mine. It’s worth the risk.”
This time, when the guard walked by, she threw the knife at him, impaling him in the shoulder.
He grunted but kept walking, now with blood trickling down his arm to plop on the floor. He disappeared around a corner on our left and reappeared on our right a short time later, with the blade still protruding out of his arm.
“Doesn’t he feel it?” Wonder filled her voice as he strode past us again. She raised her voice. “Hey, don’t you feel that? You! Guard! Answer me.”
He kept walking, completing the loop and returning with her blade still sticking out of his shoulder.
“I don’t know what this means,” she said after he’d disappeared on our left. “But it must mean something.”
Prager's influence was everywhere, twisting even the guards into unnatural patterns.
“He appears to be locked in a spell. Short of killing him, I imagine he’ll keep strolling by.”
Sounds echoed from the right. Instead of the guard, a click of metal was followed by Moira rushing toward us, glancing around feverishly.
Reyla’s eyes widened and she leaned close to me. “Real or…”
I suspected we’d find out.
Moira stopped at the door to our cell, though she didn’t hold a tray of food this time. Another break in the labyrinth pattern. Her shoulders hunched, and her gaze darted toward the corridor on her left. “The guard will be back soon. We don’t have much time.”
She pressed a finger to her lips as she knelt in front of the door, sliding something through the narrow gap.
“I can’t say long.” She straightened, lowering her voice. “I…It cost me a lot to get this for you.”
I picked up the rune that looked eerily like the one “she’d” given us inside the labyrinth.
Footsteps echoed from our right.
With a look of panic, Moira darted into the empty cell across from ours, where she dropped down in front of it and crawled beneath to hide.
The guard strode past us, his hand still on the hilt of the blade he wore strapped to his side, Reyla’s small knife shifting along with him in his shoulder. Blood still trickled down his arm.
When he’d rounded the corner, Moira scooted out from beneath the bunk and rushed back to our cell, gripping the bars tight. Her hair swirled wildly around her face and a flush filled her cheeks.
Reyla placed her hands over Moira’s, holding tight.
“Poor thing, you’re frozen,” Wildfire said.
“Terrified is more like it.” Tears shimmered in Moira’s eyes, but she tightened her jaw. “We’ve got to get you out of her now.”
What if this really was Moira and not an illusion like inside the labyrinth?
“When I heard they’d figure out who you were, Mother and I hid in our suite. They came looking for us, but we didn’t let them find us.” Her chin lifted. “I’m not the best with magic, but look at this.” Stepping back, she scrunched her face. Her hands formed fists at her sides.
She disappeared, reappearing a short time after.
“I’ve been practicing, but sadly, I can’t hold the spell for long.
Mother has the same skill.” There was her sunny smile again, though tension still held her body stiff.
“We don’t have much time. That guard will be back soon.
There’s something odd about him. About this entire situation, but I spoke with a friend in the kitchen, and he had a friend with greater power than mine.
She crafted the rune that’ll unlock your door and told me where to find you.
” Her breath snagged in her throat. “He’s coming back. Hold on.”
She raced back to her hiding spot across the hall, returning as soon as the guard had passed.
“Use the rune to get out.” She tilted her head toward her right. “Take that corridor. I’ll be waiting. My friend told me where to go, where I can hide you once we get out of the dungeon. Mother’s waiting, but you need to hurry.” She scooted down the hall, rounding the corner.
Reyla and I exchanged looks, and it was clear she was as unsure as me.
The guard strode past our cell once more. After he’d turned the corner, Reyla picked up the rune and pressed it against the lock.
A sharp hum cut through the air, the iron glowing before fading. The lock clicked and Reyla was able to pull the door open. We both winced as it groaned.
Moira appeared at our left, peeking around the wall. “Follow me. Quickly,” she cried out, already turning to hurry away.
As before, she led us past empty cells, their doors open. Shadows stretched across the damp floor and the smell of mildew hung in the air.
When she rounded the corner a few steps ahead of us, she came to a gasping halt.
Her guttural groan echoed off the stone walls.
She spun toward us, her eyes wide with shock and pain, a sword buried deep in her belly.
Blood seeped across her dress.