Chapter 23 #2
A storm of emotion rippled across Reeve’s face as his eyes locked with hers.
She hadn’t realized until now just how important it was for her to hear him say the words: that he hated what he’d done and mourned his decision every day, that he wished he could go back in time and choose never to siphon from anyone, never to kill anyone.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she waited for any indication that he did have a heart buried beneath the monster he’d become, that there was some small chance of redemption for the boy she’d once cared so deeply for.
But then he answered, the words rasping out of somewhere deep inside him, laced with grief and yet painfully, brutally honest. “No. I don’t regret siphoning from her.”
Viri closed her eyes and turned away, wondering why she’d expected anything different. Why she’d hoped for anything different.
“Viri—” he whispered, reaching for her.
“Let’s keep moving,” she said roughly, resisting his touch, her voice full of disappointment.
He didn’t try to offer an explanation or defend himself, as if he knew neither would do him any good. Instead, he just began walking through the grass again, seemingly oblivious to Viri’s heart cracking in her chest.
Or more likely just not caring.
They continued walking for another hour, two hours, three hours, with the forest ever-changing around them, but soon the lighting shifted as well, the afternoon sunshine dimming as the sky began to darken above the canopy.
Viri’s nerves thrummed at the thought of spending the night in the Mistwood, but she did her best to ignore them, checking the map repeatedly to confirm that the end of the magical trail was swiftly approaching.
If all went to plan, Reeve’s theory about the wayportal would prove true and they would be at the Guardian’s tower by nightfall. And if not—
No, Viri rebuked herself, stifling her dread before it could take hold.
There was no point worrying about a problem that didn’t exist yet—or as her father used to say, “A problem’s not a problem until it’s a problem.
” Her energy was much better spent staying positive and hoping for the best rather than yielding to negativity and feeding her fears.
To keep from obsessing over what they would or wouldn’t find at the end of the trail, Viri focused all her attention on where she put her feet, the forest becoming even more treacherous as the light faded, with hidden roots and rocks causing her to stumble with increasing regularity.
Tired, sore, and thirsty, she was just about to suggest to Reeve that they take a quick water break when the trees opened up in front of them, revealing another wildflower clearing, smaller than the last, with a trickling stream meandering through the middle.
There was no mist in sight, the whole area bathed in sunset colors: oranges and pinks and purples that covered everything like a soft, cozy blanket.
It looked so beautiful, so peaceful, that Viri could only stare in wonder.
But then she heard a sound, a whisper in her ear.
“Beware the wood.”
Viri spun around, but there was no one beside her other than Reeve, whose brows rose in question.
“Beware the mist.”
This time the sound was whispered into her other ear, and she spun that way, but still, there was no one.
“Beware the danger…”
“Did you hear that?” Viri demanded.
“In its midst.”
“Hear what?” Reeve asked.
This time, the words came louder, as if they echoed from all around her.
“Beware the beasts.”
“That!” Viri cried, her heart picking up speed. “The nursery rhyme—tell me you can hear it.”
“They lie in wait.”
Reeve tensed beside her. “I can’t hear anything.”
“Beware the wood…”
Goosebumps rose on her flesh as the final line whispered in her ears.
“…Or meet your fate.”
The ending of the song faded into silence, broken only by Viri’s anxious breaths as she frantically scanned the clearing for any sign that they weren’t alone, even though she knew that was impossible. They were deep in the heart of the Mistwood. No one could—
A gasp left her when something moved on the far side of the trees, a figure stepping out of the shadows. Reeve froze at her side, proving she wasn’t hallucinating, his hands shifting to the hilts of his daggers.
But his weapons weren’t necessary.
Because the figure—it wasn’t some blackmist beast. It was a person.
A familiar person.
Every muscle in Viri’s body locked in stunned disbelief at the sight of the young girl walking toward them, looking healthy and happy in a clean white cloak, her sandy curls as wild as ever, her brown eyes bright with mischief.
“Jessalyn,” Viri breathed. “What—How—”
She couldn’t finish her question, a strangled sound leaving her, part sob, part laugh, and she leapt forward, desperate to embrace Soren’s sister, her relief too overwhelming to care how Jessy had escaped the reapers and found her way into the deadly forest. Those answers could come later; for now, Viri just needed to hold her and see for herself that she was truly safe.
But before Viri could make it more than one step, Reeve’s arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her backward.
“No, Viri, stop.”
Something in his voice gave her pause—a combination of urgency and horror that she’d never heard from him before.
“Reeve, what—”
“That’s not Jessalyn,” he said sharply, still holding her tight, as if worried she would leap forward again.
“What do you mean? Of course it is!” Viri tried to push out of his grip, but his arms were like steel around her. “Let me g—”
She didn’t finish her demand before Jessy’s lips stretched into a wide, open-mouthed grin.
Viri jerked back into Reeve at the sight of razor-sharp teeth, three rows deep.
She nearly gagged at the grotesque vision, and would have if Jessalyn hadn’t still been transforming, her white cloak turning to black rags that covered her from head to toe, leaving only her hands visible—pale, too-long fingers with talon-like nails—and a sickly gray face belonging to a creature that was decidedly not Jessalyn.
It was the eyes that were the worst, though, now vivid scarlet slits that glowed from within the shadowy hood, chilling Viri to the bone.
Reeve swore loudly and released her to draw his sword, snarling one word as the figure glided slowly toward them like a specter of death. “Wraith.”
It shouldn’t have been possible—wraiths had left the island long ago with the mages and all the other magical creatures—but Viri couldn’t deny the evidence before her.
She fumbled for her daggers, trying to recall everything she knew about them, her knowledge limited to what Wynter had shared while treating Reeve’s grimblade poison: that wraiths attacked body, mind, and spirit.
Viri could now add that they were shapeshifters, her heart simultaneously crushed and grateful that the real Jessalyn was nowhere near the beast they faced.
“Are you ready to meet your fate, Daughter of Death?”
The voice was the same as the one that had whispered the song in Viri’s ears, but a quick glance at Reeve indicated he could hear it this time, too.
“Get ready,” he warned, raising his blade.
Viri did the same with her daggers, knowing her fillium would be useless here.
Any creature that could survive within the blackmist would have no ellixen left to drain.
The wraith didn’t even appear to have a physical body now that it had discarded Jessy’s form, though Viri knew from the grimblade poison that it must be capable of bleeding, at least in theory.
Heart pounding, Viri grounded herself, part of her naively hoping the wraith might have no intention of attacking. She knew nothing of its nature—if she and Reeve didn’t strike first, it might very well leave them alone and go on its way.
Her hope dissolved, however, when it stopped gliding and suddenly flew at them, swiping its clawlike nails so fast that the air whistled.
Viri ducked while Reeve jumped to the side and slashed forward with his sword, but his blade passed straight through the wraith’s center, its rags rustling as if touched by a breeze.
A dark laugh echoed around them.
“You’ll have to do better than that, Son of Shadows.”
Reeve slashed again, and this time Viri leapt in to help him, hurling one of her daggers at the wraith’s hooded head. The blade should have struck right between its scarlet eyes, but like Reeve’s sword, it just sailed through the creature’s intangible body.
Another dark laugh, and then the wraith stretched out its hand to point a taloned finger at Viri’s chest. Her breath was punched straight out of her lungs, leaving her gasping violently, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t suck in any air, her throat closing as she choked on nothing.
She knew it wasn’t real, that it was some kind of mental wraith trick, but she had no defense against what she was feeling, and panic rose within her as she clawed at her neck.
She couldn’t breathe—
She couldn’t breathe—
A surge of ellixen from Reeve sent the wraith blasting backward across the clearing, its furious shriek echoing around them as it vanished through the distant trees.
But Viri didn’t care about the spine-tingling sound, because suddenly she could inhale again.
She coughed and spluttered, her lungs screaming with relief that bordered on pain.
Reeve was beside her in an instant, looking as panicked as she’d felt mere moments ago. “Are you hurt? What did it do to you?”
“I’m all right,” she wheezed out around her panted breaths. “Did you kill it?”
He shook his head. “Wraiths can’t be killed. I just stunned it, but it’ll be back any second.” He held out his hand. “Can you run?”
Before Viri could answer, the wraith reappeared through the trees, hurtling toward them like a raging shadow, its arms outstretched and scarlet eyes promising vengeance.
“Go!” Viri shouted, taking Reeve’s hand and sprinting into the wood. It was challenging to run while clinging to him, but she couldn’t risk moving too far away from the extra protection of his talisman, the mist returning in force as soon as they left the clearing.
On and on they ran, the wind whipping at their faces as they raced between trees and around boulders, leapt through creeks and over fallen logs, all while the wraith gave chase, screeching at a pitch that felt like daggers piercing Viri’s ears.
At one point, the sound became so painful that blood trickled from her nose, prompting Reeve to throw his free hand back and send out another blast of ellixen.
It gave them a momentary reprieve, but then the creature was soaring after them again, blending into the blackness of the mist and the swiftly approaching twilight.
It felt as if it were everywhere and nowhere, around every corner and always at their heels.
“We—can’t—run—forever,” Viri panted as they bolted through the darkening forest, her lungs searing and muscles straining. It was a miracle neither of them had tripped on anything, almost as if the Mistwood sensed their plight and was trying to help.
“We just need to reach the wayportal,” Reeve said, breathing nearly as hard, his grip on her hand close to bruising.
Viri hoped he was right, that there really was a wayportal waiting just up ahead. It was almost impossible for her to read the map while sprinting at breakneck speed, let alone in the dimming light, but it looked as if they were approaching the end of the magical line.
“We—should—be—nearly—” Viri stopped speaking when they burst through a thicket of leafy branches to find a small abandoned temple sitting in the middle of a pond covered in lily pads.
The structure was ancient, made of pearlescent stone that shimmered with gold, appearing both welcoming and forbidding at the same time.
There was no wayportal in sight, but Viri felt certain this was where the map had been leading them, and she bounded forward with Reeve, splashing through the pond and up the steps, only realizing when they reached the top that the wraith was no longer screeching—and no longer chasing them.
Viri tugged Reeve to a halt before he could keep running into the temple, both of them panting hard as they looked back to see the wraith hovering at the edge of the trees, its mouth open in the same horrific razor-toothed grin as earlier.
“Beware the wood. Beware the stone. Beware the beast. Who lost his throne,” the wraith sang, the unfamiliar verse echoing all around them.
“Beware the lake. His sacred home. Beware the drop…Or die alone.” An ominous laugh.
“Farewell, Daughter of Death and Son of Shadows. Unlike you, I dare not tread where I am not welcome.”
With that, the wraith offered one last nightmarish grin and floated back into the forest, disappearing from sight.
“Um…” Viri said, her heart racing from the run, but now also from the skin-crawling sensation caused by the wraith’s parting words.
“It’s probably just mind games,” Reeve said, though he looked as unnerved as she felt. He squeezed her hand in reassurance, his touch comforting her more than it should, prompting her to hastily untangle their fingers.
With a quick check of the map, Viri squinted through the growing dusk to confirm they were mere steps away from the end of the magical line. “It should be in here,” she said, pocketing the parchment and moving deeper into the temple. “Let’s look around for—”
A thunderous rumble interrupted her as the ground shifted around them, just like in the forest. Only, this time it wasn’t changing into something new, but crumbling away into nothing, leaving a chasm of darkness—
Directly beneath their feet.
Viri didn’t even have time to scream before they fell, the shadows swallowing them whole.