49. Chapter Forty-Nine
Iprowled along the walls, aimlessly following the clues Yenira had left behind. At this point, I wasn’t sure which way was up, down, right, left. I could have ventured in a circle and never knew it.
I stopped when I’d turned my fifth right corner and leaned over my knees, choking out a sob. This place was silent, the halls narrow, the air thin. I felt trapped, forced to go in a circle for the rest of my life.
Perhaps this was the first trial those faceless gods had mentioned—if they could even be considered such a thing. They were testing my sanity and wits. I wasn’t cut out for this. I forced myself upright and dragged my feet forward, letting the dagger dangle in my fingertips so loosely, I didn’t care if it dropped.
Those…things may have given me a second chance at life, but my bones still ached like I’d been tossed off a cliff. My heart still raced as if it’d been overworked. I could feel it in my wrist, my neck…could hear it in my ears.
I reached up to cup my ears to ease the incessant ringing, and as my fingers went to cuff the skin, I didn’t feel rounded edges. No, I felt the sharp point that had grown familiar to me over the months.
That was when every bone in my body stilled—every thought, every human, instinctual habit ceased.
I walked ahead faster, letting my hands fall to my side. I was a panting mess by the time I found a puddle on the ground with just enough lantern light to cast a reflection. I fell to my knees and braced my hands on either side, leaning over and squinting.
Once the shallow water stopped rippling, I stared back at intimately familiar eyes—as green as a meadow in spring—but poking through my hair was immortality.
It was of my lineage—hidden away by magic or ignorance, I wasn’t sure. It was my fae blood personified by the tips of pointy ears poking through strands of messy, matted red hair.
I gulped and stood to my feet slowly, looking down at my hands as they trembled. I turned on a heel, smashing my foot into the puddle as I jolted forward. I ran.
Farther.
Faster.
Harder.
I ran, I ran, turned so many corners, I doubted I’d find my way back. When I found stairs, I ran up them, lunging over gaps in the floor and climbing over fallen columns. This place was old, decrepit, and it smelled of death.
When I saw moonlight bleeding through the cracks ahead, I knew I was nearing the surface. I cried out, unsure if I could push myself more, wondering if I’d collapse just as I found my way out—my way free.
As my legs slowed, knees buckling, I looked up to a broken ceiling, a sky full of stars suffocated by dark, looming gray clouds. Lightning webbed across it, but it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t made of our world.
I watched it strike three times in the same direction.
Four.
Five.
And then, after the briefest moment of calm, it struck down into the hole of the ceiling where I stood still. I screamed, jumping forward and letting my hands skid across the rough stone. The dagger clattered away from me, and when I turned to look over my shoulder, I saw smoke blooming from the ground, as if that’d been enough to burn stone.
A figure appeared—and unlike the last few times, she was whole, with her silvery hair and black, hollow eyes. She approached me, and I pushed myself on my feet, hands scrambling to push me backward like a crab. When I blinked, Myrthana appeared over me and grabbed me by the collar, taking hold of one fae ear as she cackled.
“You made your choice, I see,” she hissed. Her voice was so human—it cracked, had an edge, and trapped the air in my lungs. “You were supposed to stay dead.”
I screamed when Myrthana threw my body back like it was no heavier than a ragdoll. I rolled, my spine slamming into a hard wall. I saw spots behind my eyes, but I forced myself upright and focused on the magic inside my chest. Something had sparked within me when those gods brought me back—it was a raw, visceral thing, calling to my magic.
I let loose as soon as she lunged at me again.
Stars erupted into the room, expelling us into the vision of a celestial storm. The wind whipped in my face as the orbs spiraled, enveloping Myrthana without my sentient command. It merely obeyed my innate desires—the ones I’d never spoken but knew in my heart were true.
“Leave me alone,” I screeched. When my fingers curled into my palm, her scream cracked into the air, and she vanished.
The stars did, too.
It was sudden, quick, and with it, the wind died. I gasped, collapsing to my knees as if I’d been floating and left to drop. There wasn’t a single sign of Myrthana’s presence, but her vision loomed in my mind like a bad dream. I scrambled to grab the dagger I’d flung to the side and continued running. Each time I blinked, I saw those hollow eyes staring back at me. The shadows mocked me, threatening to take the form of that wicked fae bitch.
But I saw soft moonlight ahead.
Light, snow, freedom.
When I broke past the threshold and took my first breath of fresh, unadulterated air, a rejuvenated shock rushed down my spine. I lamented and looked up at the sky, watching the storm spiral in odd ways.
Each thunderclap sounded like a laugh, and although the lightning still webbed across the clouds like a taunting song, nothing was struck.
My gaze chased after the horizon, down the mountain toward a city unfamiliar to me. It started to hail, thudding on the ground beneath my feet and sticking to my skin. The snow chased the vast valleys ahead, infinite stretches of snowscape I feared crossing. Beyond that, though, I saw fire.
I heard screams.
Beyond the snow held a darker truth. One of war, of fate.