50. Elorie
Elorie
The pass between the hills trims our travel by a day. Sweat pours down Perame’s face as Callum sets her down, and Esen drops to the forest floor to cradle her head in her lap. We planned to push farther this afternoon but were forced to stop when Perame started crying out in pain.
Callum explained it was an effect of the bleeding blade.
It’s worse than having your magic stolen in a Fae realm, where it can be replenished so long as there is some left.
The bleeding blade carves it out so brutally that it damages a Fae’s ability to access their magic the way they once did.
There’s a chance Perame won’t be able to wield it again, but I hope that’s not the case.
“Perame.” I take her hand; her palm is sticky with sweat. “We’re here with you.”
“Atlas.” She shakes her head from side to side; tears roll down her cheek.
“We’re going to get you back to him.” I clutch her hand in both of mine, pulling it to my chest. Callum squats at her other side, taking her other hand.
Perame’s eyes blink open. Her purple irises are so dull they’re more lavender than violet. The flecks that once made them sparkle are gone. The blade stole more than magic or strength; it cut out a piece of her.
“Elorie, it’s you.” Perame’s smile is weak as she blinks her eyes into focus.
We’ve told her many times we escaped the overlord, but each time she wakes, she’s forgotten.
“It’s me.”
She smiles. “We found you. You’re okay.”
“Of course I am. Don’t worry about me. I need you to hold on.” I squeeze her hand.
“Where are we?”
“Traveling back to the Arch. We’ll be there soon.”
Callum’s gaze lifts, but I don’t meet his stare. Our journey is far from over, with the hardest part ahead if what the overlord said is true and the Arch is being guarded. But for Perame’s sake, I keep that to myself.
Perame looks around, from me to Callum, until her gaze sets on Esen, sitting over her. “Thank you.”
Esen’s eyebrows furrow, her head shaking. “Why are you thanking me? I did this.”
“No.” Perame’s voice is soft but firm. “This is not your fault. You helped us.”
Something must shoot through her side because Perame winces, tugging her hand from my grasp and grabbing her abdomen.
“What’s wrong?” Callum asks.
“Besides everything?” Perame’s smile is dull. “I’ll be fine. Gods, if Atlas could see me now. He’d gloat about how he could outmatch me in the ring for once with the state I’m in.”
“He’d be wrong.” I smile, and Perame chuckles, but it ends on a cough.
“He always said I was the bleeding heart of the family. He’s a liar though.” Her smile is wistful as she glances up through the trees. “My brother is the best of us. Honorable. Loving. Always putting others before himself and caring with his whole heart.”
“You’re all those things too.”
Her gaze darts to me. “I lied to you, Elorie.”
“About what?”
“It wasn’t Seren who was pushing me away. I was the one who stopped talking to her, who told her we shouldn’t see each other anymore. It’s just—why cling to one more thing that will inevitably die? I can’t watch that again.”
My eyebrows pinch, and her expression softens.
“I said I’d never dated. That was a lie too. There was a girl once in the Mortal Realm—Daisy. It’s ironic: a girl named Daisy, and now Seren collects flower petals. Talk about the fates trying to send me a warning.”
“You loved her?”
Perame nods, but it makes her flinch in pain. “It was a dreamer’s romance. It was never going to work. I’ll live centuries, while Daisy—” She shakes her head. “I saw her right before the Arches closed. I don’t know how she died or when. But she’s gone now.”
“She’s the reason you’re scared of how you feel for Seren.”
“My brother wouldn’t be.” Perame’s smile is sad. “He’s always diving in headfirst, not worrying about the consequences. I swear nothing can break him. I wish I was like that.”
“You are.” I rest a hand on her arm.
“You’re still fighting,” Callum reminds her. “Giving up is easy. Pushing through is the hard part. But you’re doing it. You’re tough, Perame. Don’t doubt yourself. Atlas would be proud.”
Perame flinches as pain shoots through her. She hisses through her teeth.
“We need to keep moving,” Callum says, reaching for Perame and lifting her in his arms.
“Just in case…” Her head lolls to the side as she slowly loses consciousness. “Tell Atlas I love him.”
Callum swallows hard. “You’ll tell him yourself.”
When we reach the Arch, we find Overlord Farseth wasn’t lying. Men guard it on all sides.
“There are five of them.” Esen’s eyes widen. “And I don’t know how to fight.”
It’s too bad the void only works against magic because that would make this easier.
“Stay here with Perame.” I glance at where Callum helps Perame rest against a tree.
She can barely hold her head up, much less sit. Esen rushes over as Perame leans to the side, giving her more support. Perame’s eyes flutter open long enough to see Esen holding her up. Her smile falls as her eyes close.
“I can handle this.” Callum approaches, assessing the guards through the trees. “If you want to stay back and watch them, I’ll take care of the guards.”
“And let you have all the fun?”
He smirks, knowing I’d never let him go into this alone.
The Arch is right there before us. Our home. My mate. We’re so close.
Callum nods, knowing there is no talking me out of it, as we quickly set up a plan. Thankfully, nighttime is darker here, and the thick shrubbery around the Arch shields us from view. We circle behind the group, inching as close as possible before making a move.
Callum watches the men, barreling into what magic has replenished to send a breeze along the ground, stirring the dried leaves and drawing their attention in the opposite direction. They follow the movement, and then Callum sends a whip of wind that sends them flying.
I grip the dagger Esen packed in the bag, letting it warm in my palm as flecks of starlight spark on my fingertips, lighting the blade.
Callum glances from the dagger to me; a surge of understanding moves between us. We’ve come this far. Nothing will stop us now.
He moves first, slicing a sword straight through the neck of the guard closest to us.
His body drops to the ground before he has the chance to yell a warning to the others.
I move to the next guard, staying low and driving my dagger up through his stomach, tearing until his insides spill out onto the ground.
Callum takes out another with a wide arc of his blade. And then there are two, one for each of us.
Only a flicker of magic flows through me, but I manage to move quickly. I’m a dance of destruction and silence just like Callum and my father taught me.
Move fast. Quiet. Small.
Then attack big.
I can’t overpower them head-to-head, so I have to take them out before they see me coming.
The guard turns a little too late; his blade nicks my skin as he aims for me.
But I don’t let it slow me down as he resets his stance.
I move, daggers first, drawing a perfect crimson line through his throat.
The guard drops to his knees, clutching his bleeding neck while Callum’s opponent falls beside him.
Glancing over, I eye the twisted vines climbing the posts. “Time to go home.”
Callum carries Perame out of the forest, with Esen right behind them. There isn’t time to waste as I slice open my palm, sending a river of blood to the ground at my feet. Perame’s fingers are cold as I take her hand next, resting the point of the blade on her skin.
“Just do it,” she urges when I pause.
I cut through, holding her hand over the spot where my blood drained to open the Arch. It takes longer to root than it did in Vaelier, but soon, a dark swirl climbs the posts, waking the Arch.
“It’s true, then.” Esen’s eyes widen. “The Arches still work.”
“Barely.” I sheathe my dagger. “Back home, things are worse than this. You should know that before coming with us. Our realms are dying, and we don’t know how much longer we have.”
“I’m with you.” Her green eyes meet mine, unwavering.
This close, I realize one of the dark veins on her cheek reaches the corner of her eye. It stains the white of her eye with a dot of black.
I reach out a bloodied palm, and Esen takes it, holding her breath as we step through the Arch and are overwhelmed with the scent of pine.
Lightning.
The familiar musk of the lush Vaelier forest floods my nose. Humidity makes the air heavy. But there’s an undercurrent of something else as we move from one realm to the next.
A hint of decay and mold from the Well.
The veil shifts as the Arch releases me, and I step out. But instead of sand at my feet, I’m on hard ground. Trees tower on all sides with snow dusting the branches.
No, not snow.
Ash.
These trees aren’t like the ones that line the beach in Andare. They’re not like Quietus. We’re somewhere else.
“Everquell.” Perame’s eyes widen as she sets her gaze over Callum’s shoulder. “The Arch took us to Everquell. This isn’t right.”
My stomach turns as I process what she’s saying. Everquell was already claimed by the Well. Fae abandoned their homes here because it’s uninhabitable. This isn’t where we’re meant to be.
With the fading Arch behind us, we stand frozen at the tree line, facing a stretch of barren ground ahead.
The dirt is scorched, trees burned to an ashy crisp.
At the center, far off in the distance, is a chasm.
It’s so large there is no beginning or end.
Black shadows stretch out of it like arms reaching for the sky.
Screeching fills my ears. The piercing sound is so sharp it’s barely muted when I cover them. Darkness surges toward us, and I take a step back, but there is no escape.
Callum throws his hand up like he’ll form a Gate, but something else splits open before he has the chance. A sharp line of aether rips through the night. The scent of moss and trees and life and home overwhelms me as Wilder steps through, and my heart nearly seizes.
“Wilder.” I throw myself at him, tears streaming down my cheeks.
His magic catches me faster than his arms.
“Welcome home, Starfire.” He tilts my chin up, golden eyes flaring as he offers me the most beautiful smile.
“Wait until we get there to say that.” Another tear falls free. “Perame’s in trouble. She needs help—” My plea is cut off in a sob as confusion flashes in Wilder’s eyes. But it’s Atlas who moves first, stepping out of the Gate immediately after Wilder.
His face blanches at the sight of his sister.
At her limp body hanging in Callum’s arms.