40. Mare #2
Ducking through the entrance, I looked around and noticed his bag lying by his bedroll. A bedroll that had never been rolled out.
Reese would have mentioned if Liam had stepped out to relieve himself. Why hadn’t he?
The worry grew into a writhing ball of snakes. Running back outside, I turned toward Reese’s tent.
And stopped myself.
Shifting course, I ducked through Bláth’s instead. She had been talking with him, the last time I’d seen him. The Solheart lay face down, buried beneath a pile of golden curls. Dropping by her side, I shook her shoulder.
She shot up, yanking a dagger from beneath her blanket. The steel rang as it settled beneath my chin.
Lifting my hands, I lurched backward. “It's only me.”
“Oh, shit, sorry.” Bláth scrambled into a sitting position and scanned my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you seen Liam? It looks like he never turned in.”
“Not since I went to bed. He said he was going to find some privacy out that way.” She gestured vaguely, eyebrows drawing together.
Liam had left the camp before Reese took watch.
He’d never returned.
“Oh, shit,” Bláth cursed, trying to stand.
I grabbed her wrist. “Go back to sleep,” I urged with a polite smile. “My idiot brother is my charge. There’s no need to wake the camp.”
Bláth’s eyes darted in the direction of Reese’s tent. As did mine.
She lowered herself back down. “Alright . . . ”
“Thank you.” I shot to my feet and ran outside.
Wind tore through the camp, pitching embers through the air. The pit of snakes spun in my gut, and I looked up to see my old friend.
The crow with a missing talon perched on a tree overhead.
Drawing Cierthine, I ran into the darkness, cursing my brother. Cursing him for never telling me who he was.
I saw nothing, nothing save shadows and silence. The distant flashing of lightning.
Then, something caught my eye—a series of fresh footprints in a muddy patch nearby.
Kneeling beside them, I tried my hand at tracking, but I’d spent my life city-bound. All I could glean was their direction: South.
I jogged in their direction, buffeted by wind and drops of rain. More footprints appeared in the wet soil, leading toward the wall.
I’d never realized how close Tirnanog stood to the wall. It came into sight, a menacing shadow on the horizon, the barrier between the world governed by Forlaith’s god and the land of shadows where all evil was born.
My heart seized. Why would Liam leave camp and head this way? Why?
A hand wrapped around my wrist. Gasping, I yanked from its grip and pointed my blade at my attacker.
Brighid stood behind me, red hair flying wild. “Your brother has felt this pull since Galasvar. Has it finally claimed him?”
“What?” I lowered Cierthine, confused. “What are you talking about?”
Brighid stepped closer, voice lowering to a hiss. “I have seen your tale, Mare—every moment, since that fateful day during Winter’s Tide. I know who you are. And I have an idea who he is.”
My hand wavered on my blade. That fae—Vaf—he’d shown me a play as real as life. No wonder Brighid had found us at such an odd time—she’d been shown the same thing.
Only the play had been about me.
“What do you mean, pull?” I demanded. “What hasn’t he been telling me?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” she said, marching around me. “But no one survives the Ceorthan Shadowlands. No one.”
The worry spun out of control. It felt like the nest of snakes writhing in my stomach would burst from my skin.
I chased after Brighid, watching with dread as the wall drew closer. And closer. Until it loomed just before us.
And I saw the hole torn through its stone. A crumbled section, like the dragon had torn in Gwynford. In Galasvar.
But this one was silent, empty. A veil of darkness hung where stone had been, shielding whatever lay beyond.
I had to go after him. And when I got my hands on my stupid, delinquent brother, I would wring the answers from him.
Who he was. What was wrong with him? And what did I have to do to keep him safe?
If he were still alive.
The thought echoed in my head.
Never in my life had I considered the possibility of losing my brother. He was all I had, aside from my father. My only friend and companion.
In every interaction, I hid behind a mask, showing the other person only what I thought they wanted to see. No one had seen what hid below.
Saints, not even I knew who the woman beneath the mask was.
But Liam did. He might be the only one. And I could not lose him.
I took off running toward the wall, heart thudding against my ribcage. My hand slammed into the ancient, cold stone, and I gazed into the darkness.
Brighid caught up to me, peering into the depths at my side. Her ruby eye pierced through the night. “To walk beyond the wall is forbidden. To be summoned by something that lives there—”
“Is heresy,” I breathed. “If the Solhearts learn . . . ”
“Then we go without telling them,” Brighid said. “And we hope Bláth can lead Reese in the wrong direction.”
I met her eye, but said nothing.
This was it. The moment where my life fell apart, where the darkness claimed me, where my secrets came to light.
“Why would you come with me?” I asked, voice hollow and hushed.
“Because you’ve drawn the gaze of a fae lord, Lady Rohan. Because you wield an element that was supposed to belong to darkness, alone.” She paused. “I have a weakness for the unsolved and the impossible. So let’s see what lies beyond the wall from which no one has returned.”
‘History that is better left forgotten lies to the south. Death and ruin hide in its every crevice. Should fate call upon you to seek it—leap.’
That fae had known this moment would come.
‘Fear not the darkness, Lady Rohan. Stride into its embrace.’
Leaping over the broken stones, I lunged through the veil.
Into the darkness.