Chapter 2
“ A nd what is that?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.
“The midplane—the space between realms.”
Between realms. I don’t need Destan to elaborate for the words to send my stomach into freefall, but he goes on.
“It’s the place in between Faerie and Styrland where nothing lives—nothing nice anyway. It gets referenced in old tales—you know, the place where monsters dwell and naughty children get sent?” Destan rambles as he worries at the handle of his knife.
“But it’s real?” I say, my throat suddenly dry.
“I—I don’t really know,” he stammers, sounding more uncertain than I’ve ever heard him before. “No one I know of has been there, but what Hadeus said—about sunlight not being able to touch it? That’s how Interra is described in the old tales: ‘The darkness that’s never seen the sun.’ If Evanthe’s spell destabilized Ruskin’s portal, it seems possible they got stranded there.”
A portal. A doorway to another world. If that’s how Ruskin got there, that’s where we need to start.
Hadeus releases a groan, which makes me jump, but he doesn’t fully wake.
“We need to do something about him,” I say, nodding to the fae lord. “Then we head to the nearest gate.”
Destan squints at me.
“What are you planning?” He knows me well enough to sound nervous.
“A way to get Ruskin back, but I’ll get to that later. Where’s the closest gate to here?”
I haven’t got the full shape of my plan yet, but it’s formulating, and I know we don’t have time to lose. The dull pain is still there, pulsating through the bond. I don’t want to give it an opportunity to get worse.
Destan lifts his eyes to the sky, thinking.
“In Unseelie, probably. I think they have one close to the border. Not that I advocate going waltzing into their kingdom just to use their gates, but seeing as we’re going there anyway…” He shakes his head. “I never thought I’d consider Unseelie a safer place than my own kingdom.”
“And I never thought you’d turn out to be a master torturer,” I say. “But life is full of surprises.”
Here beyond the mountains, the Unseelie Kingdom reminds me of Styrland, with its green grass and the stone dwellings rising up ahead of us.
“Low Fae settlement,” Destan says, squinting at the horizon. “This’ll do.”
We dump Hadeus, still bound and unconscious, at the milestone on the road into the village. Destan thought I was soft for insisting on bandaging Hadeus’s wounds before we left him, but I pointed out that if we were going to leave them open to get infected, we might as well kill him anyway—and it seemed reckless to risk losing the only bargaining chip we’d have if the Wild Hunt caught up to us again. We could use Hadeus’s location as a last-ditch piece of leverage.
We keep an eye out as we travel, but it’s the early hours of the morning, and thankfully we don’t see anyone. Running into some Unseelie right now could be as troublesome as coming across the Hunt again. We can’t be sure we have any friends—Seelie or Unseelie. Anyone we meet could be another foe.
We’re only a few miles further when it hits me again. My vision narrows, and I must slip from the horse, because hands grab me as I gasp for air.
It’s the bond. The background levels of discomfort swell and break their banks, flooding me with waves of agony. This can’t just be Ruskin’s pain—no one could survive this. Somehow, I know this suffering belongs to both of us—the pain of separation, the fear of loss, and something being ripped loose from the tie that binds us. I can’t name it, but as much as I know Ruskin is in danger, I also know that being so far apart from him, having him not just in a different realm but lost between them, is causing its own kind of damage.
“Eleanor! Eleanor, can you hear me?”
The agony ebbs and I feel the cool air of the Unseelie Kingdom on my face again.
“We need to go faster,” I tell Destan.
We gallop to the gate and I clutch tight to Destan in case the bond overwhelms me again, as I explain my theory to him.
“Ruskin told me once about the differences between gates and water portals—how one is permanent and the other fluid and unstable. It’s why you can’t use them both to travel between realms and travel with in them.”
“So?” Destan calls back to me over the sound of hoofbeats.
“So, you know how to make to water portals, right?”
“Yeeees,” Destan says, drawing out the word as if he doesn’t like the direction this is taking.
“Then I figure that if we try to open a water portal on the same spot as an existing gate, it will destabilize it. I think that’s part of what happened to Ruskin and Evanthe.”
“Maybe,” Destan says.
“Think about it. Evanthe’s magic must have confused Ruskin’s portal, destabilizing it. We’ll be doing the same, but with more intention. If a gate to another realm crosses with a portal that stays in this realm, the end result should send us somewhere in between: Interra.”
Destan is silent until the gate looms into view. It makes for a striking silhouette against the skyline, made up of hundreds of pieces of carved bone and antler lashed together. They form an arch about three times the height of me. We’re still a way off, but I can’t see anyone for miles, and it occurs to me the Unseelie must not use this gate much. It leads to Styrland, and they don’t seem to have much interest in going there.
“Eleanor,” Destan says quietly as we draw closer. “What do you actually plan on doing once we’ve opened this portal?”
“I’m going to go through it and find Ruskin,” I say, like it’s obvious. The determination in my voice masks what I don’t want Destan to hear: the fact that I know very well how dangerous that might be.
“There’s a reason no one tries to go there. You don’t even know what might be waiting for you on the other side.”
“Ruskin. Ruskin will be waiting for me.”
“And what if you don’t find him?”
“I will. I’ll use our bond to guide me.”
“What if you can’t find your way back?” Destan snaps, increasingly frustrated.
“If I can’t find Ruskin, maybe I don’t want to come back.”
“Eleanor.”
“What?” I reply, my voice rising with conviction. “It’s true. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I didn’t do everything in my power to reach him. You don’t know what it’s like.” I close my eyes, letting the ache of the bond wash over me, like a thousand needles scraping beneath the surface of my skin. “It hurts , being separated like this. I have no other choice.”
Destan slows the horse a few yards from the gate. When he dismounts, then helps me down, I see his face is full of sorrow.
“I have to do it, Destan,” I say more gently. “I’m sorry.”
He nods. “I was thinking my job was to keep you safe, but I’d forgotten that’s not how things work. You saved Ruskin. Not just from Cebba’s curse but from himself. He was drowning before he met you, slowly and silently. I could see it happening, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Then you came along. I’d be a fool to try to stop you trying to save him again.”
I give Destan a hug, which he accepts more willingly than I expect, his arms tightening around me.
“But if you’re going to go in there while I’m stuck out here keeping the portal open, then you need an exit strategy.”
The idea comes from Ruskin. He made me trace a thread of silver to find him once before, and I realize I can replicate it now, creating a tether that will help me find my way back to Faerie. Destan pulls out the tunic of fine chainmail he removed from Hadeus earlier. It should cover at least a mile if I unspool the links and stretch the metal thin. I choose not to think about what I’ll do when the metal runs out. It’s the best choice we have for now.
“And what about the water for the portal?” Destan scans the area. “I can’t make one out of nothing, and we’ve got barely enough left to drink as it is.”
I grab Hadeus’s sword and concentrate, reforming the metal until the end is wide and slightly curved at the edges. I hand it to him.
“Start digging.”
I get to work separating out the links into a single long chain as Destan shifts the earth at the gate crossing until he hits ground water. All the while I’m conscious of the throbbing pain of the bond, plucking at my nerves, begging me to pay attention to it.
I’m working on it . Honestly, I’m glad for the reminder. It keeps me going even when I’m hungry, not to mention exhausted from running from the Hunt and from my magic being depleted by all the intricate, complicated tasks I’ve asked of it in the last few days.
An hour later I stand with the thin chain fastened around my wrist, the other end knotted tight around the bones of the gate. Destan’s made a ditch, half filled with a murky pool that should just about be large enough to take me far away from this realm.
“Are you ready?” he asks, licking his lips nervously.
“Yes. Let’s get it over with.”
“Please don’t die in there,” he says, holding his hands over the water. “I can’t be stranded in this cold, damp kingdom on my own.”
I offer him a grim smile. “I’ll try my best.”
The hum of magic rises from the water, and the pool begins to ripple. I take a step towards it.
“Wait,” Destan orders.
The water becomes more disturbed, splashing against the edges of the ditch, throwing up a muddy spray. Portals don’t normally act like this, I know. This is a good sign.
“It’s fighting me,” Destan says, sounding strained. “It doesn’t want to open here.”
“Keep going,” I say. The horns on the gate start to shake, filling the air with an eerie rattle as they clatter against each other.
Then the water gurgles and begins to turn, swirling counterclockwise until it forms a dark whirlpool. At the center it’s so black it’s like it’s swallowing up the light around it.
The darkness that’s never seen the sun.
Magic crackles around us, two opposing forces fighting each other, and Destan’s face twists with the effort of maintaining the portal.
“I’ll keep it open for you as long as I can.”
I meet his eyes and give him one final nod.
Then I jump.