“Ailan, do…do you know about the Blight?”
A furrow formed between her brows.
Mother Goddess, she didn’t know. Cora desperately did not want to be the one to tell her, and she’d find out for herself soon enough. But didn’t Ailan deserve a warning at least?
“The land around the Veil is dying,” Cora confessed. “It’s a consequence of themorapouring from El’Ara into the human world and being unable to return. Your people call the dying land the Blight. Pathweavers can’t use their magic to traverse that part of El’Ara. The triggers may not work there either.”
Ailan paled with every word. “I didn’t know. Though I should have. Of course there would be consequences to losing El’Ara’s heart.”
“Having to walk sounds like the least of our worries,” Mareleau said in a dry tone that somehow alleviated Cora’s guilt. Not that the Blight was in any way Cora’s fault, yet she wished she’d have told Ailan sooner. Even Cora had been saddened to see the dead, colorless land of the Blight. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be for someone who loved that land.
Ailan steeled her expression. “It changes nothing where our plans are concerned. Let’s proceed.”
They leftthe wagon deep in the woods away from the road and set the two horses free. Valorre was rather smug about this, but Cora hoped the horses were intelligent enough to make their way back to the Forest People. The wagon itself would have to remain where it was. Thankfully, it posed little threat as evidence. There was nothing inside that would reveal it was ever home to Ailan, only that it belonged to a nomad. Anyone who stumbled upon it would likely assume the owner had met an ill fate while camped there.
Ailan shouldered Mareleau’s bag of belongings while Cora touched each of her weapons in turn—bow, quiver, dagger. A comforting routine in preparation to step off a cliff and return to a realm she wasn’t welcome in. Noah was nestled close to his mother’s chest in the carrying sling Salinda had gifted Mareleau. Together the party left the woods and approached the road. Dawn was spilling farther over the landscape with every minute, requiring more caution as they crossed over to the cliffside. Cora’s gaze darted left and right, her mental shields down, senses extended in case anyone approached. They were still alone. Still safe.
Ailan stepped to the edge and reached into the sky. Her hand disappeared at once. “Cora, do you want to go first?”
Devils, no, but what choice did she have? If Ailan went first, Cora and Mareleau would be left to find the tear on their own. And she wasn’t going to make Mareleau go first.
Swallowing her fear, she took a step?—
I think not, Valorre said darting in front of her.I will test the safety of the tear. We can’t rely on those inelegant dragons, after all. With his head held high, he trotted toward Ailan’s half-invisible hand. In a matter of heartbeats, he was gone.
Cora had to admit, her arrogant friend had emboldened her. With a fortifying breath, she stepped to the edge of the cliff and extended her hand near Ailan’s until it plunged into nothingness. She paused, releasing her breath in a trembling exhale.
Then she stepped off the cliff…
And stepped onto colorless earth. The Blight was blindingly bright after the dim light of dawn, invading her senses with shades of gray. The only color was the cloud-speckled blue sky overhead.
Valorre stood before her, tossing his mane. Despite his earlier confidence, he radiated relief at seeing her hale and whole on this side of the Veil. Cora stepped out of the way to give room to her companions. The Veil was nothing more than a wall of swirling particles of pale mist. Even though it looked like something soft and insubstantial, she knew firsthand that it would feel as firm as a wall should she try to touch it. Aside from the tear, she supposed.
A hand shot through the mist, quickly followed by a body. Mareleau planted both feet before the Veil, her eyes squeezed tight, her arms wrapped protectively around Noah in his sling.
Cora put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re all right, Mare. You made it.”
Mareleau forced her eyes open and stumbled toward Cora. “That was terrifying.”
A second later, Ailan followed, emerging from the mist with far more grace. But as her eyes darted across the landscape, her expression crumpled. Her hand flung to her lips, and she widened her stance as if to keep steady. “This is so much worse than I expected.”
All around them was parched soil and the gnarled stumps of long-dead trees. There was no sign of the jewel-toned forests, groves, and meadows Cora had seen on her way to the Blight the first time she’d come here.
Tears glazed Ailan’s eyes as she turned back toward the Veil. Extending a hand, she pressed her palm to the swirling particles. Cora watched with rapt attention. Did she know of a way to call themoraback? She had claimed to be regent over fae magic until Noah came of age.
With a frustrated groan, Ailan dropped her hand, her fingers curling into a fist. “Themoracan be called back to the land, but the tear is too thin. It’s like pulling it through the finest sieve. The effort to complete such a task…I don’t even want to estimate how long it would take.”
A shadow fell over them, bringing with it the beat of wings. A gust of wind sent gray soil swirling about as Uziel landed. Cora, Mareleau, and Valorre backed away as the dragon nuzzled Ailan’s shoulder. It was similar enough to how Valorre comforted Cora that she could almost find it cute.
Almost.
Ailan’s posture relaxed. She turned her gaze to Cora. “Does your magic work here?”
Cora nodded. She’d escaped El’Ara with her abilities before. Her magic hadn’t been hampered by the Blight, nor had Fanon’s or Etrix’s. Fanon had still been able to use his invisible restraints while Etrix’s translation weaving had remained. Only Garot seemed unable to weave in the Blight. The only thing that had held Cora back had been the collar she’d been burdened with.
Her skin crawled, remembering its tines piercing her neck, the empty void where her magic had been. She resisted the urge to tuck her hand in her cloak pocket, where the collar remained hidden. She hated carrying it on her person, bringing it to the very place where it had been used against her. But she couldn’t have left it in the wagon. Not if she wanted to avoid leaving evidence behind.
“Will you use it?” Ailan said, stepping away from Uziel. “Will you take us somewhere beyond the Blight? Somewhere a pathweaver can reach us quickly?”
