“What’s in the Forbidden Lands?” I ask.
“Souls,” Esta says simply.
Some of the heaviness in her expression lifts and the slightest smile tilts up her golden lips. I marvel at how shiny and beautiful she is. All the demons are. Deceptively beautiful. Especially Roman.
Esta shakes herself. “You’re heading toward the prisons first,” she says, shooting a sympathetic grimace toward Malia. “Which is that large, square building at the edge of the city over there.”
She points out a shiny, silver building. It’s huge. Glistening. One of the largest that I can see in what is quite a big city. The only larger building is located in the center of the city, and that’s where the other royals went, so I assume it’s the Citadel.
Esta’s focus flashes to Crone, whose energy is beginning to vibrate through the crystal beneath our feet. “I sense I’ve stayed too long, and I don’t want you to suffer for it. Make sure you all step onto the light beam at the same time so you aren’t separated. I’ll see you at the Purification, Nova.”
Esta hurries toward the edge of the bridge—only ten paces away—and steps off it. A second later, I catch sight of her traveling safely in the direction of the Citadel.
As soon as she leaves, Crone swoops on us.
“Tyrus,” she calls to the Captain, her voice a sharp snap in the air. “Your unit will escort the lesser beings into the prison. Once they’re inside, there will be no escape. The prison’s magic will contain them.”
Tyrus steps up and bows his head. “With respect, Crone. Did you sayinsidethe prison?”
A cruel smile grows on her face as she draws out her response, low and soft like a noose tightening around his neck. “Yes, Captain. For failing to kill the lesser beings, you will accompany the prisoners into the prison. Whether or not you come back out again… well… that’s up to the prison’s magic.”
Tyrus’s expression is now like stone, and a sense of dread fills me. This prison doesn’t sound like the kind I was expecting.
With her head high, Crone pins her dark gaze on Roman. “Lord Rune, you are needed at the Citadel,” she says, as if she has every right to tell him what to do. “There is much to be done to prepare for the Purification.”
Roman’s response is so subtle that I expect Crone misses it, but I’ve become attuned to his reactions. I don’t miss the sharpening of his jaw, the slight press of his lips, and the slant of his eyes as his brows draw together, even more intensely than when he spoke about the Forbidden Lands. It’s the same hint of deep anger that I sensed before he lashed out at the meeting with the supernaturals in Vegas.
It feels like a lifetime ago, and Roman doesn’t act on his anger this time.
I shake off my apprehension because right now, I can’t worry about the friction between Roman and Crone. My sisters’ safety has to be my only priority.
Crone tips her head back, peering up at me. “Stay true to your word, Nova, and I will stay true to mine. I will allow your sisters to live.” Her voice becomes a threatening hum. “Break your word, and I will break mine.”
As soon as Crone steps aside, Tyrus and the soldiers push us toward the edge. “Move!” Tyrus shouts. “Step onto the crimson beam on your right.”
I call for my wolves to stay close, and Taniya and Malia draw in at my side.
I have no choice but to cooperate until the first trial. But once my sisters are free from the prison, if I see a chance to get my family safely out of here without breaking the three worlds, I’m taking it. As slim as that chance may be.
When we’re standing at the edge of the bridge, staring down at the abyss below, I reach out to take Malia’s and Taniya’s hands. We shuffle forward until the tips of our boots hang out over the edge, and I gasp as a burst of wind slaps me in the face. With it comes a splash of heat and a plethora of scents: floral, earthy, and something colder… like the steel of the buildings. It feels deceptively welcoming, a cruel contradiction to what we’re facing.
None of this stimulus rushed through my senses on the crystal bridge, which had been serene and quiet.
It seems the entrance to Mortem may as well be an illusion, and the real Hell starts here.
CHAPTERSIX
Itake a deep breath as we step off the edge.
The beam of light is at least five feet below us, and I’m expecting a fall, but instead we step onto it as if it were right in front of us. Ace and Temple have stayed close on either side of my legs, squished between me and my sisters, and Luca and Blitz are pressed in behind me. The path is so much wider than it appeared from above, allowing us to huddle together.
I brace to lose my balance, but instead, the air moves around us, and we remain still and stable.
“It’s like an escalator,” Taniya says, keeping her voice low. “Like those ones at airports.”
“A travelator.” Malia nods. “It feels as if we’re standing on solid ground.”
“Solid ground that looks like a wispy beam,” I murmur.
