Chapter 39
All the breath left my lungs, and it felt like every bone in my body shattered as the pieces of the bridge seemed to hover in place for a brief moment before plummeting into the swirling black below.
“No.” Death’s scream was filled with an echo of the pain that ripped through me.
I saw Fen stagger with a grunt, grabbing his chest as I doubled over.
My eyes widened as sparkling darkness rushed to fill the space where the bridge had been.
With a weak wave of his hand, Fen formed a wall of shadows in the gaping opening to keep the void out. It bulged slightly as it settled into place.
My vision whited out as our Death Chord pulled taut, stretching tight enough I thought it would snap.
I felt like I was being torn in two as the In Between groaned, the two castles tilting dangerously in opposite directions now that they were no longer connected by the bridge.
I couldn’t sense my body. I was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.
Everything stilled, a moment of quiet before a lightning strike. The pressure was so immense I thought it was the end, that the realm would shatter just like the bridge and we would be no more. Part of me prayed for it, because then this interminable torment would end.
And then everything settled. The pressure faded, and I landed back in my body with a throbbing ache.
I could feel the absence of the bridge in the In Between, a give and constant shifting as the realm rearranged itself to hang on our Death Chord instead.
The bridge had served as a fulcrum, holding them together.
Now the center had shifted and it felt wrong, off kilter, as if everything now slanted in one direction, but we were still here.
“Fen.” I gasped as his knees buckled. Daphne rushed to support him. His knuckles were white where he gripped her hand while he bent over, panting.
Bea stirred next to me, pushing herself into a sitting position.
“Are you alright?” Marcus asked, his voice near my ear.
“I’ve been better,” I croaked, trying to push up off the floor. To get to Fen. Marcus moved to help me, but I closed my eyes and moaned as the floor seemed to tilt and roil underneath me.
“Easy.” Marcus’s hands were gentle on my back as I tried not to vomit. “Tell me five things you can feel.”
“Is the floor moving?” I swallowed, but managed to get the words out.
“No. And I don’t mean what you feel inside. I mean external physical sensations.”
Gritting my teeth, I curled my fingers into the stone tile to ground myself. “The floor is smooth.”
“Good, what else?” Marcus stroked my back as I named things I could feel, then see, hear, smell, and taste.
I heard Daphne murmuring the same thing to Fen a few steps away.
My nausea receded until I was able to sit back on my heels. I felt raw and exhausted, but the sensations from earlier had faded enough that I could function again.
Fen leaned against the wall, Daphne at his elbow. He looked as tired as I felt, but his eyes roved over me, looking for injuries.
Marcus offered me a hand and hauled me to my feet. I stumbled directly into Fen’s arms.
“I’m okay.” I spoke into his chest as his hands stroked my back, my arms, as if reassuring himself that I was still here. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t. His voice was strained and our bond was an aching mess of emotions, but I let it go with a nod.
We stood like that for a few breaths, basking in the solidity of each other, before Fen let me go and started giving orders. Daphne and Marcus headed off down the corridor to gather people to conduct checks on the castle and the souls in the Dungeon.
I took Bea up to the dining room in Fen’s quarters. With a scowl, I conjured a stream of water and sent it into the grate to douse the fire. At this point, I didn’t care if Death figured out we knew about her spies. We had bigger problems to deal with.
Collapsing into a chair next to Bea, I turned my glare on her. “What in Death’s name possessed you to run across the bridge like that?”
“They knew I was working for the Devil.” She held her head up, but I saw her chin wobble. “They came to my room right after I got his message and took my ring. Confined me there. When everything started shaking, I saw a chance to escape and I took it.”
My anger softened at her explanation. I’d forgotten about the fact that she’d been chased.
“I saw the bridge breaking like it did before, and I knew it was worse this time because it shook more, but I thought it was my only chance to get away.” She looked at her hands. “I didn’t want to be stuck over there.”
I leaned forward and pulled her into a hug, irritation giving way to relief.
She settled tentatively into my arms, as if unsure where we stood. It pulled at my heart. I regretted the distance between us. In the face of the realms nearly falling apart, my previous concerns felt so small.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted to you working for Fen. I’m glad you made it back to us,” I said. Having her close felt right, like a jagged edge had smoothed over.
Her arms tightened around me, and I smiled. For someone so small her hugs were quite fierce. She gave Daphne a run for her money.
“Where did you go?” she asked when we pulled apart.
I filled her in on my sojourn as a salamander and everything that had happened with Fen. By the time I’d finished, Marcus, Daphne and Fen joined us. They carried trays with platters of food and dishes which they set on the table.
My stomach growled as we all loaded our plates and then fell on them like starved wolves.
I hadn’t eaten since I’d transformed back into my human form, and it was all I could do to chew before I swallowed.
The others were equally hungry, or maybe it was that they knew this was a moment of peace that might not last.
I still hadn’t passed the third trial, and time was running short.
* * *
“Trust what is,” the Guardian said for the fourth time.
“You keep saying that like it means something,” I said, glaring at them.
Fen shadow-stepped us to their cave after we finished eating; we were determined to wring information about the third trial from them. We were out of time, and I had no ideas to go on.
They stared at me impassively, their blank-eyed gaze no less creepy than on my other visits.
Fen stood in the back, irritation flowing through our bond. He’d insisted on coming, despite the fact that he couldn’t do anything, and now that we were here I was glad for his silent support.
“We can’t wait any longer. The realm is hanging by a literal thread. All I need is a small clue to help me figure it out. Just one. Something. Please.”
The Guardian’s silence was deafening and something in me snapped.
“Whose side are you on?” My shout echoed in the dark chamber. “Do you want the In Between to shatter?”
I felt Fen tense behind me. “Maeve.”
“Have I not done enough? Have I not learned to trust well enough? Have I not accepted the cards I’ve been dealt?
What more do you want from me?” My chest heaved as I stared down the Guardian, daring them to end me.
It would end the realms, but it would serve them fucking right.
I was tired of being a plaything for them.
More silence greeted my outburst, but I swore it was tinged with amusement.
Throwing up my hands, I turned away from them. There had to be a way to figure it out. Was I just stupid?
Trust what is.
I started to pace, trying to clear my mind so I could come at the problem without any distractions. “What is” implied it had to do with the present, the way things were. How did I trust that in a way I hadn’t already?
My gaze fell on a familiar set of scales atop a column. It had been there since the Guardian summoned it so I could weigh my soul, sitting off to one side in my subsequent visits. I’d thought it odd, but now it snagged my attention in a new way.
Trust what is.
The sentence I’d given myself before was one I cobbled together trying to balance grace and justice for the things I’d done in this life. I’d thought the effort mattered more than the actual sentence, but maybe I was wrong.
I wanted to rail against my fate because it felt unfair, but what if I had to trust that it was exactly what I deserved? What I needed. I’d thought sentencing myself was pointless because it would never be carried out, but what if I gave myself the sentence of the life I was already living?
My eyes flicked up to the Guardian. Did I detect approval in their silence or was I so desperate to be right that I was imagining things?
“I’d like to reweigh my soul.” If I was wrong about this being the third trial it wouldn’t make any difference.
“Very well.” Like before, the Guardian floated closer, reaching out a hand towards me.
This time I didn’t close my eyes. Instead, I held their empty gaze as they reached into my chest and gently pulled my heart out. It sat in their hand for a moment, gleaming gold, and then it appeared on one side of the scale.
I turned to the box of weights. This wasn’t about atoning for what I’d done.
This was about embracing where I was, trusting that it was where I needed to be.
For that I needed weights that reflected my current life.
A couple of the ones I’d used last time called to me—compassion for others, a life of service.
I placed them on the scale, but none of the rest seemed right.
Trusting my instincts, I lifted a hand and let light fill my palm as I thought about the elements I wanted to include.
An inescapable calling. Learning to trust. A family to care for.
Shadows to face. A love to challenge and forge.
For each one, a weight appeared in my hand, a swirl of silver and gold instead of the muted black of the ones in the case.
As I placed them on the scale, something settled deep inside of me. With the central pin in place, the pans didn’t move, but I felt a growing certainty that this was right. It expanded, filling me with warmth.
Once all the weights were placed, I looked up at the Guardian. “I’m done.”