I halt, temper barely leashed. Jax is already wasting time. “I’ll call Wendy. You’re heading to the castle.”
Jax scowls. “Why?”
“Wilder is missing. Someone needs to alert Desiree and wake their mother. If—whenthey return, Wilder and Leigh may need medical attention.”
“I can update Wilder’s family,” Isolde volunteers.
“No.” My eyes stay locked on Jax, my hands tensing at my sides. He needs to talk to Desiree and face whatever’s got him so angry and distracted. “Jax is going.”
He meets my gaze, lips thinned, then glances at Isolde and forces a smile. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll go.”
Good riddance.
He starts to leave, but I call out, “Only speak to Desiree and Doctor Dunn. No one else.”
Until I know the whole story, no one else gets looped in. I’ll brief the president after speaking to Wendy.
Jax nods, shoulders reaching his ears, then disappears into the trees.
I dragmyself to the lake’s edge, coughing up water. It feels like I swallowed an entire ocean to get here. Liquid burns like bleach in my throat as I realize where I am. Rain falls from a sky that resembles a fresh bruise. The droplets hitting my skin are heavier than usual, as if weighted with regret. The dark clouds swirling overhead remind me of a diluted, murky paint mixture.
The scenery surrounding me lacks vitality. The first thought that comes to mind is that all the joy has been drained from this place, leaving behind only hollow echoes of what should be. Even the air tastes stale, metallic, like rust on my tongue.
Is this Mictlan?
This looks like a fucked-up version of our world.
My fingers sink into the bank. Mud crumbles like ash between my fingers, delicate as talcum powder but gray like spent coal. The water behind me sits obediently still. It’s obsidian glass that refuses to reflect the stormy night sky above.
The trees surrounding the lake stand like petrified sentinels, their bark the color of weathered bones. My skin crawls as silence presses against my eardrums.
It’s quieter than my father’s confined cell in Kratos. At least there, distant sounds of life are present, like the guards’ footsteps, prisoners’ voices, and the hum of fluorescent lights.Here, there’s nothing but the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Where the hell are all the ghosts?
“Leigh?” Her name leaves my lips as barely a whisper at first, like a prayer. Then louder, desperation bleeding into my voice. “LEIGH.”
The silence swallows my cry, offering nothing in return. No echo. No response. Just that suffocating quiet that makes me wonder if sound itself can die.
Where is she? Taking deep breaths that taste of decay, I force myself to think logically. I didn’t expect to find Leigh just waiting here—that’s not who she is. She will do everything in her power to find Fynn. She’ll probably try to bring Aradia home, too.
Lightning crashes, sounding like crunching cartilage. Misty clouds in the distance part as if torn by angry spirits, revealing the twisted spires of what appears to be Traum Castle on the hill. But this version feels like a fever dream: ancient stone blackened as if scorched by hellfire, thorny vines writhing up the walls like claws. The architecture itself seems off; towers bent at impossible angles that hurt my eyes to look at directly.
That’s the first place Leigh would go. She wants to find the boy, so she’d march straight into that nightmare, demanding answers from the overlord there. I head into the trees. I’ll find her. I’ll bring her home. The Blades can handle everything else back home.
A noise like rattling chains startles me, and I duck behind a tree as a group of daemons weaves through the overgrowth up ahead. Keeping out of sight, I watch their serpentine bodies slither across the forest floor. They are heading straight for the lake. They hiss as they enter the chilly water and disappear, passing through the portal.
I don’t recognize these daemons. Although they are small, they are quick, suggesting they are potentially dangerous.
Dammit. Jax better have received my text.
I take a step toward the castle but pause. What if he didn’t?
“I never thought I’d see you again,” a voice says from behind me.
I freeze. The silence was oppressive, but somehow, this was worse.
“I know you can hear me, Wilder.”
