A wave of Darkness hits me in the gut moments before the sounds in the hall. Morgan. She’s hurt. Or injured—or worse. I clench the rolled-up mural in my hands. The final scene of a rising sun. A goddess in white on the ground.
There’s no mistaking the imagery.
“Bunny!” My name is a desperate shout. I run to the door and down the hall. I meet the frantic faces of my brothers. I look for kingdom soldiers chasing them. No one follows but their allies.
Who I don’t see is Morgan, and I scan the group. My eyes finally settle on Clinton, who’s carrying her in his arms. Her face is pale. Black stains her chin. The hollow in my stomach grows.
“Tell me you’re ready,” Dylan says. “Because we’ve got to get the hell out of here and lock the door behind us.”
“I’m ready,” I tell them and jog up the stairs to my studio. I lead them to the window looking out over the kingdom. The sky has parted blue and the land as far as the eye can see comes to life. I glance back at Morgan and realize that it is because she’s carrying the Darkness and it’s killing her.
I’ve already drawn the symbols around the window, the ones that will allow us to pass and then seal the gate behind us. Casteel made that clear. Do not return and do not give her a chance to get out.
“Once I activate the gate we’ll only have a few moments. Go first,” I tell Clinton. “Get her back.”
What we’ll do with her is beyond me. I pray the gods will have an answer.
Clinton doesn’t hesitate. He carries Morgan like she’s light as a feather. He steps to the edge and the outside world vanishes—instead, he’s looking into the dining room of The Nead. He steps through and they both vanish.
Dylan hurries the others through. Hildi and the six warriors I do not know. Sam and Damien, each giving me a look that contains less hate than I imagined. Once Damien crosses over, the edges of the window turn fuzzy and the kingdom comes back into view.
“Go,” I say to Dylan.
He steps to the edge and puts his feet in first. I watch as the gate closes on itself, bricking up like the window never existed.
“Bunny.” He stares at me, his eyes imploring. I shrug. If this is my penance, I’ll take it.
There’s a beat, a moment, and the bricks build one by one closing one realm to the other. Dylan reaches out his hand and grabs me by the collar—yanking me through.
39
Morgan
I’m drowning in a lake made of black oil. The surface is on fire. Liquid clogs my throat. I gasp for air, for the edge, but there’s nothing there but Darkness. Dank, foul, darkness.
I fall…slipping into nothing until my feet touch solid ground. I blink, thinking my eyes are closed but no, just black. So much black. I open my mouth and scream. This time it works. I hear my voice. The sound of my fear. What happened to my Guardians? The castle and the Morrigan?
I still taste her and the filth I consumed in my mouth.
Taking a step I move across the void, my feet echoing in the nothingness. I knew it was a risk—a sacrifice I was willing to make. But this? This is what her soul looks like?
I scream again. “Hello!”
My voice mocks me in return. I hold my hands to my ears and scream. Scream for the loss of my mates. The loss of my realm. Scream for wanting it back—the feeling—the love.
Hands grip my arms and pull them away from my ears. White
teeth shine in the dark. Long braided hair hangs over a broad shoulder. “Why are you screaming, child?” the Shaman asks.
“Did you bring me here? Drag me to this place?”
“You consumed the poison. That was not my doing.”
“How do I get out of here?”
“I don’t know.” He clasps his hands together. I count three rings on each hand.
“I took the darkness and gave her my light.”