But I couldn’t.
Fuck, it hurt to try. Every muscle protested—
Fuuuucckkkk.
I couldn’t fight it. I was being torn away, ripped into fucking shreds—
Until I wasn’t.
Until I landed in the middle of a barren valley, orange-red dirt spreading all around me. A ring of towering mountains surrounded the empty plain, the same color as the dust beneath my feet.
But it was only a momentary reprieve. Shock and confusion had taken precedence, but with my feet firmly planted, the pain came roaring back. I fell to my knees, clutching my head. Death would be better than this…
Maybe this was death.
The hell I deserved, for all the pain and destruction I had rained down over the past three hundred years.
But if this was hell, I wasn’t alone.
I saw his boots half a breath before I heard his voice—
“I did not expect so much screaming.”
20
CYARA
When she appeared again, it took one look for Cyara to know.
There was no joy in her face, not as there had been when she mastered that first level of her power. Then, she had jumped around the clearing in the jungle laughing; disappearing, reappearing, tapping Lyrena’s shoulder, only to appear behind Arran and kiss his cheek.
Now, there was only cool determination in the lines of her round face, strength of will in the icy blue shards of her eyes. She had made this descent deeper into her magic alone, without Arran, and it had cost her something. A part of her soul.
But she did not share that with them. Did not speak of the cost or explain what it had meant to her. How she had done it. She crossed her arms over her chest, a protective gesture that was not even intentional but was telling all the same. She had added another layer over the shirt she usually wore, the flowing black fabric that revealed her midriff even in the cold. There was no hint of the metal brassiere that held the shirt in place while showcasing her physical assets. All of it was hidden beneath the thick wool of a deep green tunic.
Arran’s.
Cyara’s heart ached for her friend. But now was not the time to comment upon it, not when Veyka moved with purpose. Especially not in front of an audience.
So, Cyara kept her face carefully neutral when the queen spoke.
“I will take you one at a time through the void to Annwyn.” She turned to Cyara, eyes slightly glazed. As if she was in her body, but her mind was not fully present as she issued her command. “Plan it.”
Cyara.
Percival.
Lyrena.
Diana.
Veyka did not question the order or the reasoning that Cyara and Lyrena had worked out. She double-checked Percival for hidden weapons before taking his still-bound hands. Cyara doubted he would try anything stupid while she carried him through the void. It would mean risking losing himself in that terrible in between, or worse, leaving his sister unprotected.
But Cyara did not share this reasoning with the queen. She did not say any more than was necessary as she steeled herself to go first.
It felt exactly like going through the rift at Eldermist. They jumped through the void, the rift that Veyka created for them, and landed with their feet on the snowy ground of Annwyn. Cyara fell to her knees, boots crunching in the snow.
Veyka hauled her back up, raked her gaze over her, and disappeared again.
