“Emrys,” I breathed. “They’re coming.”
The pull stopped so abruptly that I nearly collapsed. Emrys roared a curse.
“Stay behind me, Miss Daphne,” he commanded. “If one of us dies now, we’re both dead!” He turned his back to me and produced a sword out of thin air.
“What are they?” I asked, while my fingers closed around a large stone lying on the floor. I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Twisted Ones. Puppets of the Renegade. Creatures from the deep dark. They wear humans like suits of skin.”
Great. And I was getting ready to fight them with stones.
Shapes twisted in the shadows. Faces flickered. More of them crowded the room.
“I cannot finish the ritual,” he growled over his shoulder, swinging. My stone hit a police officer in the shoulder, breaking his momentum at the right time. Back-to-back with Emrys, we had found some odd rhythm. My rocks slowed the Twisted down, but it didn’t look good. There were too many of them. Bodies piled on the floor before Emrys’s feet, but more were coming.
“I can’t control the Surge anymore,” Emrys groaned.
The room exploded with shrieking shadows. Runes cracked. Magic surged, roaring wild and uncontained. Emrys fell to one knee, clutching his side, blood soaking through his coat.
“Emrys!”
He raised a shaking hand. “I can’t finish the ritual. I have to contain the unleashed magic. If I let the Renegade reap it—”
A flash of light erupted—blinding, searing, followed by a ripping sound like a cloth tearing across the sky.
The catacombs vanished in a scream of brilliance, and the world split open beneath me. I was falling.
Daphne
The Folded Tower
The air left my lungs as I hit the soft grass. I tumbled to a stop and opened my eyes. The sky above me stretched clear, a pale lavender color. It smelled of damp earth and wildflowers.
Whatever this place was, it was a world apart from the catacombs.
“Emrys?”
I frantically looked around, and he responded with a groan. My heart sank when I saw him lying motionless just two feet away. “Emrys!” I kneeled at his side. Mirrors and mirror shards littered the grass—big and small, framed and cracked. I didn’t waste any time pondering over this oddity, as he was in a dire condition.
His shirt was tattered, and he was bleeding. Sigils were etched into his skin as if carved with a razor blade.
“What happened, Emrys? Where are we?” My fingers trembled as I opened his shirt wider. Bile rose in my throat. It looked bad.
“The Dusk Roads. Magical wound, little thief. I need to… recover.”
I touched his forehead. He was burning. “How can I help?” Blood trickled from his mouth. He couldn’t complete the ritual. We were still bound and in the middle of nowhere. If he died now—
It would surely kill me, too. But there was more. The sudden realization hit me like a slap in the face. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing Emrys Ravenborn.
“Get us into the Folded Tower. It’s a… hideout.” He weakly pointed a bloodied finger. The odd tower stood in the center of the mirror-covered clearing. A dark forest circled us. The crumbling building hid among a sea of blooming bougainvillea, its roof and half of its walls torn down.
I looked around. We were alone. No help, no way out. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” I slung his arm around my shoulders and tried to pull him to his feet. Sweet Mary and Joseph—how heavy was this man? My muscles strained, sinews nearly tearing, but I couldn’t lift him an inch.
“Come on, Emrys! I need you to help a little!” I huffed.
His dark lashes fluttered, and he slowly pushed himself up. My bones screamed as he leaned on me, but I bit my lip and stepped toward the arched wooden door. One step, then another. Our strained breath was the only sound breaking the unnatural silence. There were no birds in the nearby forest and no wind to move the branches. Yet I felt watched. Was that a flash of movement I caught from the side of my eye? Nope. Not planning on lingering around to find out. “Hurry, Emrys.” We dragged ourselves closer to the tower, stepping on the mirrors scattered around and cracking them.
“We’re safe here, but beware—” he licked his cracked lips — “beware of the snatchkins.” I paused, glancing over myshoulder. The shadows under the tree canopy seemed to thicken.
