Chapter Forty-Two
ABBY
MASON IS STARING at me, his green eyes narrowed in a way I don’t completely trust. Still, I meet his gaze head-on, beyond desperate to wake up and learn all of this has been nothing more than some horrid dream. This can’t be real.
Mason turns back around.
He and Kie are standing in front of a burnt patch of grass, and I shift my weight from foot to foot as they lean forward to investigate. They’ve never shown any interest in the landscape before, not even when we walked through an area that was very clearly once a tiny village. If there was any time to pause, it was then.
Ruins are cool.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. This dead patch must be the portal. It has to be. I can’t imagine why else they’d be simultaneously stopping and silently staring at it.
This is truly happening. My breath hitches, and I absentmindedly wipe at my cheeks.
The portal is unsuspecting and, honestly, a bit underwhelming. The gods can ruin entire kingdoms at the snap of their fingers, and this is how they choose to display their portal? I expected more flair.
The landscape leaves much to be desired, too. The trees surrounding us are small and sad, a drastic change from the towering, thick ones at the forest entrance. If I had an axe, I bet I could chop these trees down with ease.
The ground is dry, too. The rainstorm we found ourselves trapped in must not have reached this far, and we’ve been kicking up reddish dust for the last few miles. It feels like we’re in a human desert—minus the cacti.
I peer around, debating trying to run away one final time. This is my last chance, but if I wasn’t successful in the dense forest, I definitely won’t be here. It would be impossible to hide, and Mason could shift and catch me in a heartbeat.
He probably wouldn’t even need to shift. His legs are long and muscular in his current form, and I’m sure he’s fast.
I suck in a slow, quivering breath. This is truly happening. We’re here.
I could cry—doing so has historically made me feel better—but I doubt it’ll do so in this situation. There’s no Lill to bring me hot chocolate and turn on my favorite show, which is precisely what she does every time I cry. She’s reliable.
She’s probably dead.
Mason looks at me again. I hold his gaze. Is he truly going to go through with this?
I try to think of something to say to change his mind, but my thoughts are racing a million miles a minute. Stringing together a coherent sentence seems like an impossible task at the moment.
Mason works his jaw from side to side, and I silently plead for him not to do this.
It seems like he’s contemplating it, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but then he clenches his fists and turns back around. I barely resist the urge to drop to the floor and beg. I’d do it if I thought it would help.
Mason clears his throat. “Let’s get on with it.”
His voice is firm, directly contradicting the conflicted emotions he showed me a moment ago. It makes me hate him. It makes me hate every bit of him.
Kie doesn’t move, and after a long pause, Mason whispers his name. It’s enough to launch the faerie into motion, and I drag my fingers through my hair as he kneels before the dead patch, pulls off his gloves, and places his bare hands on the ground.
My budding tears make it hard to focus, but I wipe at them and force myself to watch as the dead grass inside the circle begins to ripple and turn black. The color leaks from Kie’s fingers until the circle looks like it’s covered in black tar.
Kie’s head lolls forward, a muffled curse slipping from his lips.
When Lill opened her portal, it was like a curtain spreading to the side to reveal the faerie realm. I expected something similar to that. Thick blackness seeps from Kie’s fingers instead, continuing until the entire portal is filled.
“There,” Kie says, pulling away. He stumbles to his feet, accepting the supportive hand Mason offers. He looks like shit, his skin flushed and sweaty, and I chew at my bottom lip as he pulls his gloves back up his shaking fingers.
That’s it?
Kie turns toward me. “Come on.”
I shake my head. “I thought you were going to leave me here while you go in. What if she doesn’t want me, but her brothers do?”
Kie grimaces, glancing around. “I didn’t realize how exposed this area would be. It’s not safe for you out here alone. You’re coming with us.”
I shake my head and plant my feet on the ground. Over my dead fucking body.
Kie doesn’t seem entirely surprised by my reaction, and after a long, drawn-out pause, he pushes off Mason and makes his way toward me. I tell my legs to turn around and run, but they’re not cooperating with me.
They never seem to.
“And if she doesn’t want me?” I ask.
Mason grunts. “I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”
He’s willing to snap my neck. How kind. He’s such a gentleman.
I expect Kie to force me forward or go completely caveman and throw me over his shoulder, but instead, he places a hand on the small of my back. He rests the weight there and waits for me to decide to walk.
He probably thinks he’s being kind. Idiot.
“Zaha is rumored to be finicky,” Kie says, his voice surprisingly hoarse. “Arguing or trying to run away will only hurt you. She’ll think you need training, and you don’t want that.”
Training . Like a fucking dog.
My blood boils.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say.
I sound desperate—I’m fully aware of that—but I don’t care. I have no dignity left. I don’t have the strength for it, and I don’t want to do this.
Kie taps his finger against my back but otherwise doesn’t respond. For once, the cocky prince remains quiet. He’s probably still regaining his strength. I’m sure the snarky remarks will begin soon enough.
Several painfully long seconds pass before I accept defeat and step forward. My feet drag against the ground, leaving scrape marks in the dirt. If anybody comes here later, they’ll think I was dragged.
I might as well have been.
Mason steps to the side, his green eyes boring holes into the side of my face as I let Kie lead me toward the portal. The black tar seems to move, almost like water, as I get close.
“You just need to step inside,” Kie says.
I’ve gathered that.
Sweat drips down my inner arm, and I scratch at the remaining material of my leggings as I slide my toe over the black circle. I don’t immediately sink in or fall through, which is encouraging. Kie remains by my side, his presence not nearly as comforting as he likely believes it to be.
Mason at least has the common sense to give me space.
I step onto the portal, then take another until I’m standing directly in the center. Kie follows me in, and Mason quickly does the same.
Then my stomach drops, the feeling eerily like going down a roller coaster. It’s uncomfortable, and my breath escapes my lungs with a low whoosh as I grab at Kie’s shoulder. He doesn’t flinch or move away, even as my gloved fingers bury into his muscle.
The discomfort in my stomach continues until I have to choose between clenching my eyes shut or puking. It’s an easy decision, and I squeeze my eyes shut as the sinking feeling peaks.
The portal Lill opened to the faerie realm was so much better than this. Maybe it was because I ran through it quickly. I have no idea, but this is straight bullshit.
Kie supports most of my body weight as the feeling of dropping abruptly disappears and my knees buckle. It hurts, especially because I wasn’t prepared, and I lower my chin to my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. What the fuck was that?
I peek through my lashes, staring at my feet that are now standing on black tile. It’s shiny, and I shift my weight from foot to foot before tentatively looking up.
We’re in the center of a small room, complete with four tall, white walls and an equally white ceiling. I don’t see any visible lights or windows, but the place is damn bright. It’s entirely empty, too. There’s not even a door to leave.
The only thing with color is the black tile circle Kie, Mason, and I are on.
This isn’t what I imagined. I haven’t spent much time thinking about what the gods’ realm would look like, mainly to prevent myself from spiraling, but it wasn’t this.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, chewing at the skin. Are we in the right place?
Despite Kie’s warning, I debate screaming and doing whatever possible to make a scene. I don’t trust Kie enough to take his warning to heart, especially when it would benefit him to lie to me in this situation.
He knows saying the gods will want to train me if I make a scene would scare me—I don’t know anybody it wouldn’t—and he’s not above using that for his benefit.
Still, despite knowing that, I’m not positive it’s worth the risk. In the slightest chance that Kie was telling the truth, I don’t want anybody feeling the need to train me. I have no idea what that means, but it sure doesn’t sound good.
Kie clears his throat, and I rip my hand off his shoulder. I forgot I grabbed it, and I pointedly wipe my gloved hand on my leggings so he knows I’m disgusted to have been touching him.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I just barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. What a stupid fucking question. Of course I’m not ready. He knows that. I know that. Everybody fucking knows that.
Mason steps off the black tile, his movements stiff. He’s looking around, the space between his eyebrows crinkled as he runs his hand along the smooth, white wall. He slides it from side to side, continuing until his hand sinks in. I chew at my bottom lip, horrified as he steps through the wall and disappears. Of fucking course.
I can barely hear anything over the sound of my heart beating, and I force my chin up high as I follow him through the wall.