Shouts sound, echoing loudly across the flat, frozen ground.Bloody hell.If the monsters in the forest didn’t already spread the word of our sighting, everyone will know now.
Black dots appear in the distance. They get bigger by the second.
I rush to the smoldering fire, dragging Ciprian with me.
“It’s one of these rocks?” I wince at the heat rolling off the stones.
Riven drops to his knees. “Grab on to me,” he shouts.
Celine’s fingers curl around his forearm, but her face is creased with worry. “You’ll burn yourself.”
More shouts. Louder this time.
The group racing toward us is large, made up of veydran and monsters. The monsters outpace their two-legged counterparts, running on four and—godsdamn, me—six legs as they eat up the distance between us.
“I don’t have a choice,” Riven says grimly.
He grabs a stone, hisses, and tosses it down. I smell burning flesh and stop breathing through my nose. His fingers curl around another. Again, nothing happens. He drops it, leaving a pink stain on its surface. His fingers are shaking.
“There’s got to be another?—”
“It’s fine,” Riven snaps. He grabs the third stone, and my shoulders sag with relief when I feel the telltale tug behind my navel.
The shouts fade as we’re snatched away from the clearing. A kaleidoscope of lights flashes across the inside of my eyelids, and my stomach returns forcibly to my body, flipping wildly as I return to myself and nearly face-plant.
Our final stop before the portal is indoors. I think the room is lit by a warm, buttery glow coming from the corners, but it’s hard to be sure while everything is spinning. I stumble, and my cheek smacks into something brittle and spicy.
“Watch out for the herbs,” Riven snaps.
When my vision clears, I realize the whole room is filled with hanging plants. Tied to lines of thread that are attached tothe walls, the herbs make the whole room smell floral and grass-like.
“Wow,” Ciprian mutters. “All that’s missing is a cauldron.”
“Speak carefully, or you’ll be the next thing strung up in here,” Riven says.
Testy.I roll my eyes, then catch a whiff of his blood and focus on his hand. The skin is raw and angry. It’s got to be excruciating.
“Is there anything in here that can help with that?” Celine asks, glancing from the dangling plants to his burned hand.
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
Celine frowns. “It’s fried, Riven. Only an idiot would call that nothing.”
“She’s not here,” he mutters, ignoring her entirely. “She should be here.”
“We can wait for her,” Celine says. “We won’t leave Hyacinth behind.”
I glance at my feet and bite my tongue. The young witch was instrumental in our plans, but I’m not prepared to be captured again because she couldn’t keep track of time. Unless... “Could she have been taken?” I ask.
From the tense silence I get in response, I’m guessing that’s exactly why Riven is angry. Footsteps thump outside the door, much too heavy for a teenage girl. Everyone stiffens.
“Stay still.” Ciprian grabs Luca’s wrist as he lunges for the door.
It swings open, and no one breathes.
A hulking figure looms in the doorway; his scarred face twisted in a ferocious scowl. Lines bracket his eyes and mouth, deep and harsh. They’re the kind of lines that tell me he makes this hideous expression a lot.
“I told you,” Hyacinth snaps. “There’s no one here but you and your ridiculous suspicions.”
