27. Cin
Cin
I wake with Willow sprawled across my chest, her cheek pressed against my racing heart, one of her tiny fists curled in the hair at the nape of my neck.
I should be happy. This is what I wanted, the thing I did not believe I would ever be lucky enough to have. Now she’s here—warm and sweet and beautifully mine. She feels like heaven in my arms, and I’m grateful. But…
All I can think about is how we are all going to die today.
I do not know how I know it to be true. I simply do. The certainty sits heavy and cold in the pit of my stomach, and no matter how I argue or try to rationalize, the feeling does not ease.
The end is near. I can feel it in the air, the way the wild magic presses against me from every direction.
“Time to go.” Vhalthor’s voice moves through the cavern, but it holds none of the self-assured authority it once did. “Wake your mate, and we will head into the core.”
He turns and leaves, no time for niceties. Once he’s gone, I stroke a hand down Willow's back, gently rousing her. “Angel. It's time.”
She stirs slowly, blinking up at me, and I can see the worry in my own eyes reflected in hers. “Okay…”
Dravik leans over, pressing his mouth to the top of her head without a word, then rises. He gathers her armored suit and helps her into it, and when she's dressed, he slides a fresh dagger into the sheath at her hip.
Rhune shuffles over with what's left of Willow’s food reserves cupped in both hands. "You must eat, pet. Here.”
“I’m not really hungry, Rhune…”
His eyes widen. “Only a few bites. Please, my mate. For my sanity.”
Her mouth curls downward, but she dutifully takes the hoarfrost tuber.
She manages three, maybe four nibbles before she hands the rest back.
Rhune's lip juts out, and he’s about to protest when Nyx folds an arm around her, pulling her in tight to his side.
“It's okay, beautiful. If you’re not hungry, we won’t force you. ”
“She needs her strength,” Rhune whimpers.
“You’ll make her sick,” Nyx says. “Look at her.”
“I am looking at her. I am always looking at her.”
“Then you've noticed she's green.”
“She is beautiful, not green!”
“She can be both!”
I sigh, moving away from them to check on Dravik while they bicker. He glances at me from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything as I approach.
“You ready?” I ask.
“No.” He grunts, his mouth curving downward.
“I do not like this. My instincts are telling me to flee, to grab Willow and run as far as I can from this wretched place. But…” He looks over at her and our two brothers, his eyes creasing with emotion.
“If we run, there is no future for us. No future for anyone.”
I nod, not having any words to say. Instead, I move toward Willow, wanting to be close to her before we face the coming horrors.
Once we are all dressed and ready, we head into the main passage to join the others. The first thing I notice is how wretched everyone looks.
Dagny stands a few feet away, her six mates arranged behind her in a line.
Roark and Lir look as if they are trying not to be sick.
Cyprien’s normally bright yellow eyes are dull and gloomy.
Fenryr has lost the tip of one horn. Kaebl's wing hangs at an odd angle, and Malice has gone unnaturally quiet and still.
Vhalthor's remaining soldiers stand close together, their bodies broken and leaning. Their king stands at the front, his shoulders drawn back and chin raised high—but I notice the slight shudder of his upper lip. Even Vhalthor is scared.
Everyone seems to know what I do—and that the end is close by.
Without a word, our sad little group turns and trudges into the awaiting shadows.
The passageway slopes downward, growing steeper with each step until we have to half walk, half fly the rest of the way to the bottom.
Finally, we come to a small, rounded cavern.
The ceiling is low enough that Vhalthor has to duck his head, and there is just enough room for everyone to fit inside.
At the far end is another pit, this one much smaller than the other two. The roots growing out of this one are thicker than any others I have seen, some as wide around as my torso, and they are all black, hanging limp over the mouth of the pit. Rotted through. Necrotic.
As we step nearer to the pit, I can hear the Welwig in my head whispering, demanding. Hungry. So, so hungry…
I grab my head, pressing my palms hard against my temples, but it does nothing to quiet the voices. With a sympathetic glance, Dravik crosses to Willow and scoops her up without a word, holding her tight to his chest. Instinctively, she wraps her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
Together, we move to the edge of the pit.
I look at my brothers. Nyx meets my eyes and gives me a single nod. Rhune's jaw is set. Behind us, the rest of the group shifts closer.
With one last steadying breath, we jump.
The tunnel swallows us whole, and we fall through nothing for an unnaturally long time. The tunnel narrows, and the walls press in, scraping the edges of my already battered wing.
Then we hit the brush.
Branches whip at my face and arms, tearing at my wing. Frozen leaves slice my skin, leaving deep, bloody gashes all over my body. Something catches my ankle only to rip free as my body hurtles downward, but I am too disoriented to make out what it was.
We break through the canopy into open air, dropping through the space of a massive cavern. The ground rushes up to meet us, and we snap our wings out at the last moment, slowing our descent and landing gently on the icy stone.
I gaze upward, my lips parting as a wave of shock courses through my system.
It can’t be…
“Is that…?” Nyx doesn’t finish the sentence. We’re all in states of shock, unable to believe what we are seeing.
Instead of a pit in the ground, it seems we passed through the hollow trunk of a Welwig. It’s hanging upside down from the center of the ceiling, so large that if it were above ground, you could probably see it from the surface of the sun.
Thick black cords spread out from the center, covering the walls and ceiling with mats of gnarled, necrotic Welwig root. They twitch and writhe, sensing our presence, but they don’t attack like the ones we came across in the upper chamber.
This looks just like the space Willow described in her dreams. This is the core…
“I don’t like this,” Rhune says. “I don’t like this at all.”
Willow squeezes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. She’s too busy staring at that darkened pit at the far end of the room. Dark, ancient energy swirls from it, infecting the air with its wrongness, coating my throat with every shuddering breath.
Instinctively, I reach out and pull Willow back a step, putting my body between her and the pit. Unlike the others, this one does not lead farther into the earth. It leads into oblivion.
The abyss.
If any of us touches it and accidentally falls in, our souls will be ripped away, and we will be lost forever to the reckless chasm of the universe.
“Don’t go near it.” Dravik’s voice is strained. “Everyone stay far away.”
“What is it?” Willow asks.
“Abyss. The end and beginning of everything.” My low, distorted voice no longer belongs to me. The longer I stare at it, the more time I spend in this room, the faster I feel myself slipping away. I don’t know how much longer I can fight this thing.
The whispers of The Other grow louder, layering over one another and rising to a cacophonous scream. It’s shrill and endless, clawing at the inside of my skull and driving me mad with pain and bloodlust.
At the same time, all around us, the roots come to life. They twitch along the walls and ceiling, the dead black surface splitting open to reveal a deep red light that pulses through them in slow, sickening waves, filling the chamber with its glow.
Then there is the pain.
Someone is driving an iron poker through my temple, pushing it slowly through the meat of my brain. My vision goes white at the edges, and I fall to the ground hard, the impact reverberating up through my body and causing me to shake.
Please… please stop… I cannot… I won’t…
“You okay?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Cin?”
I try to warn my brothers—tell them to grab Willow and run from this place as fast as they can—but I can’t speak. Can’t breathe. All the while, the screams grow louder. Hungrier.
Desperately, I pull my head up, my eyes finding Willow’s. I love you. I’m sorry. Please… please get away from me.
But I never get to say any of it. The screaming drives me to madness. The Other wins.
Everything goes dark.