29. Elorie
Elorie
Andare’s beaches are nothing like the overcast shore in Ruse Village. Mountains frame one side, and saltwater laps against the glistening sand on the other. The beach sparkles in the sunlight like millions of shards of shiny glass.
The Arch to the Mortal Realm is twined at the face of a cliff on the North shore.
We’re closer to Quietus than Orehla here, and while the sun beams overhead, something other stirs in the air.
Something distant but deadly. Darvel warned that the Well is creeping closer, and here, I can practically taste it.
Wilder hasn’t left my side since we stepped through the Gate to Andare. His hand rests on my back, guiding me. Anchoring me. Even as he reviews the plan with Callum for the hundredth time this morning, he doesn’t leave my side.
At this point, I’ve stopped listening to what they’re saying. No one really knows what waits for us on the other side of the Arch. The Fae have been shut out for over a century now. To them, that might be a blink in time. But for humans, generations will have been born and died.
Entire lives will have come and gone. Soon, I’ll see what’s come of the realm my people came from. A place I thought I understood based on what was passed down in customs and stories. But now, I wonder what was true and what was history being altered.
After all, the queen played a role in the first humans becoming stuck here. Were they ever given a choice, or were they simply pawns in a bargain?
Are the humans still as ruthless?
Are they any better than the Fae?
Wilder’s fingers tickle my spine, offering me what little comfort he can as he senses my emotions through the thread.
With our bind firmly in place, it’s nearly impossible to hide how I’m feeling.
I manage to filter thoughts sometimes, but my anxiety peaks the longer I stare at the Arch to the Mortal Realm.
Wilder continues to watch me out of the corner of his eye while Callum talks, but I don’t meet his gaze.
I can’t.
I stare at the Arch ahead, ignoring the doubt brewing and focusing on its intricate details.
Like the territories, I’m learning each Arch is different.
The one that grew in the Ley Court was twisted with vines and branches like those of the Quietus palace.
Its leaves were lush and roots thick as they wound around each other to form a doorway.
The Arch to the Mortal Realm is entirely different.
Posts protrude from the ground on either side, jutting up from the creviced dirt as if they drove up in a burst when the Arch formed.
The tips of the posts are as sharp as spikes.
Dead branches stretch from all sides. They reach like arms stretching out and up, growing through each other and forming a canopy at the top.
Moss coats everything, with small black mushrooms sprouting at the base of the posts.
When Wilder and Callum are done discussing the plan again, Callum joins Perame to assess the Arch and decide where we’ll spill our blood.
“Have you been through this Arch before?” I glance up at Wilder.
“A few times.” He turns to me, taking my hands in his.
“It depended on the king or queen occupying the throne. Each one had different accords between our realms. We never stayed long when we did, regardless of our reason for the visit. There’s magic in the Mortal Realm but not enough to prevent the Beating. ”
The Beating.
I almost laugh at the irony as I press my hand to Wilder’s heart. He already suffers from it as his heart throbs wildly in his chest. It should have claimed him months ago, soon after it began at the prison. Yet here he stands.
It doesn’t make sense, but neither does the fact that I pulled him back from death. I suppose we’ve yet to learn the consequences of that day.
“We’ll worry about that later.” Wilder places his palm over the back of my hand.
“You keep saying that, but if we’re not careful, we’re going to run out of time.”
“Not yet.” His thumb grazes my skin.
Comfort moves through the thread as he tries to soothe my worries. It only does so much. We have a plan for everything—the orb, Malachi, the realm. But how do I save my mate?
Wilder clears his throat, his gaze drifting as he changes the subject. “It’s been over a century since the Arch closed. We don’t know what’s on the other side anymore, so you need to be careful. Trust no one.”
“It can’t be worse than what’s here.” I force a smile. “Will I be able to speak to you through the thread once I’m through?”
“Not likely. A few emotions may find their way, but anything you sense will be delayed by how far it has to travel between the fates and realms.” He frowns.
“Try not to miss me too badly then, King Riven.”
“You know I will.” He rests his forehead against mine. “Come home to me, Starfire.”
“I promise.”
I close my eyes as Wilder’s magic envelops me. There’s nothing but the scent of him mixed with the saltwater breeze. Our bodies close for a quiet moment. The sea air whispers around us. It’s warmer here than the breeze on Alyssium. Andare has little in common with my home.
The trees are lush, the leaves green and thick. There’s not a hint of snow or frozen pine. Branches are dotted with flowers. Orange, red, and yellow break up the greenery. There’s so much color. A stark contrast to the forest surrounding my village.
Wilder pulls me in for a kiss, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders.
I sigh against him. His lips send me soaring.
I’m leaving, but there’s no urgency as he traces my lower lip with his tongue.
As he hugs me tighter and deepens the kiss.
He draws out the moment, and for a breath, we aren’t running out of time.
By the time we pull apart, my heart is thundering.
I look up into his golden eyes, following the scar that carves between them.
Memorizing just how long his hair is on the top of his head.
The strands brush his eyebrows now. I trace every inch of him, from his strong cheekbones to the sharp points of his ears.
I memorize every fleck of gold in his irises.
The beach is warm, but with the gap between us, I’m cold in every way.
Wilder holds my hand, walking me to the Arch, where Callum and Perame are securing their cloaks over their heads. They’ll have to keep their ears covered if we plan to blend in.
It’s been a long time since Fae have traveled to the Mortal Realm, so even these clothes, which we dug out of the palace’s depths, might stand out. We won’t know until we get there.
I tug on the corset that hugs my ribs. Cream lace pushes my breasts higher. The leather pants are looser than the ones the Fae wear, so they shift around uncomfortably. This outfit isn’t ideal for battle, but at least it’s better than a dress, which was the other option.
Callum hands me a cloak next. My hair is carefully braided in the same way I used to wear it on Alyssium, so the blue at the ends is hidden. I wrap the leather cloak over my shoulders and adjust my hood.
“Any word on Greer?” I ask, trying to avoid thinking about what I’m about to do.
Greer and Atlas left earlier this morning with Darvel. The Arch to Lyrichia is at the northernmost point of the territory, far from here. I’m thankful to have said those goodbyes already because I fear the one to come will be much worse.
Wilder nods. “I reached out to Darvel a few moments ago. She and Atlas are through.”
Now, all I can do is hope they made it to Lyrichia. That they didn’t get lost in between and that Lochlan will have the guidance we need. If anyone can find Malachi, it will be Greer. I trust her to be ready when I return.
Callum pulls out a dagger, and Perame holds her palm out between them. He slices deep enough to draw blood, which drips to the sand at the foot of the Arch. The realm drinks it until there is not one crimson drop on the ground at her feet, and a thin veil begins to flicker between the posts.
“It’s working.” Perame’s eyes widen as she watches the Arch.
Callum hands the dagger to Wilder, who holds my palm face up next.
Through the thread, I sense his resistance.
He doesn’t want to hurt me, but he won’t let anyone else do it.
His cut is quick and clean, and the pain that surges through my body isn’t physical.
It’s my mate’s emotions barreling into me.
I do as Perame did, clenching my fist and letting my blood drip to the ground at the foot of the Arch.
Unlike hers, swallowed by the sand the moment it fell, mine steams upward into a smoky haze.
It twists through the film of magic veiling the door to the Arch, and while I can’t see through it, I feel the other side.
“How long do you think it will stay open?” My gaze moves to the already crackling edges.
“Not long.” Callum frowns. “We should go.”
My chest tightens as I meet Wilder’s gaze.
Lifting onto my toes, I press a final kiss to his lips.
Our fingers lace together, and I let the bind pull taut between us.
I slip into the threads and envision my magic wrapping around the paths that lead to him.
White starlight weaves through the binds of gold.
I hold the warmth of him in my heart as I step back.
“Until the fates unwind,” I say with a sad smile that mirrors his.
“I’ll see you soon, Starfire.”
“I love you.”
“Even love can’t define how I feel for you.” Wilder’s confession is hanging fresh in my heart as Perame’s bloody palm finds mine.
Callum grabs my other hand, and we step through.
First, there is only darkness. And even if I feel Callum and Perame at my sides, I cannot see them. I can’t see anything, not even myself.
There is a black chasm around me until it begins to flush with gray, and I notice it’s not darkness at all. It is a space between places—between realms. Black veins are wound so tight that it isn’t until they loosen that my vision begins to clear.
The in-between releases us, and we step again.
The beach is gone. Saltwater air is replaced by something moldy. Borderline rancid. It’s no longer daytime, and here, the darkness is deeper than any night I’ve experienced before. The sky is clear, but there are fewer stars. The moon is a sliver of a smile in the night.
We survived the Arch, but what have we stepped into?
“Your freckles.” Callum’s eyebrows pinch. “They’re not glowing.”
I press my fingers to my cheek, and Perame circles to see what he’s talking about.
“This is good; you look human.” She smiles.
I’m not sure good is the word I’d use to describe it as this weight settles inside me. But I force a smile, knowing that with my round ears, it will help me blend in.
“My hair?” I ask.
Perame steps close, lifting my braid to get a peek of what’s hidden. “Still blue.”
Somehow that’s a relief. I’m not entirely changed, and I cling to that as we enter this place that feels so far from home.
The forest around us is a graveyard of dead trees and twisting branches. Fallen leaves carpet the ground. There is no wind. The hush is eerily unsettling as I gaze into the night.
Atop one of the trees is a raven watching us with such intensity that it’s as if I can feel it assessing.
“Do you think that’s a sign? You mentioned a raven in your vision.”
Perame follows my gaze. “Maybe. It’s not nothing.”
The Arch behind us flickers, and I glance back as a smoky swirl rolls in waves between the posts.
It looks like it did on the other side. Something sparks against one of the posts, and as quickly as the Arch came to life in Andare, it dies in a single breath, becoming nothing more than a gap between one part of this dying forest and another.
“We got through just in time,” Perame says, her voice duller than a moment ago. “I guess it’s good we’re both here to open it again when we need to leave.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” Callum releases my hand, stepping forward. “Where do we go from here?”
Perame looks around, her eyes squinting as if she’s remembering the vision that led us to this realm. She pauses on a particular tree in the distance. The twisted bark has a giant knot on its face, and another raven sits on a branch.
“That way.” She points and starts walking.
The Mortal Realm is as vast as any other, with the Arches to Vaelier and Lyrichia on opposite ends. Thankfully, Perame swore she recognized the village where the void is hiding, which means we have some chance of getting there.
Leaves crunch beneath our feet. There’s no keeping quiet, and every bird seems to be watching us.
The Mortal Realm feels nothing like I expected. Magic stirs, but it’s dull. Starlight barely sparks when I try to summon it, but it’s there. There is no wind. No whisper of life in the forest. There’s an emptiness to the land.
I thought it might feel like home, but nothing here calls to me. If anything, something pushes me away. An invisible force that I physically resist as I walk toward it.
I glance at Callum, whose eyebrows pinch as if he feels the same.
“It has to be the void,” I whisper.
The only other magic mine has resisted in such a visceral way was Hazel’s. And although Idunn said the void and shadows are not one and the same, there are similarities. They’re both dark. Endless. They bite more than they drink, which makes every step more difficult.
At a distance, a pulse beats stronger than a heart. But we don’t slow; we continue toward it. Until voices freeze us in our tracks and torchlight comes into view.
Humans.