“You enter together,” Varian instructed.
We moved into place, the steps now well-rehearsed. Alize wore her mask of beautiful, unbreakable composure. Isanara wove between my legs, reminding me that no matter how much I begged her to wait outside of the Memory Gate, we were inextricably linked.
Garrick did not bother with subtlety. He curled his hand around mine, drawing me closer to his side and leaning down. I rose on my tiptoes to meet him, our mouths finding one another with an ease that should not have existed after only two months.
I expected a brief kiss, a touch point to anchor us as we headed into the unknown. But Garrick’s mouth was fierce on mine, his tongue diving deep inside of me, claiming me with each broad stroke. I matched him. If he claimed me, then I claimed him as well. For this brief moment in time amid the centuries, for seven gates, we belonged to each other.
We would survive the Memory Gate.
Alize grumbled in the background. But Garrick did not relent. Only when he had explored every curve of my mouth did he finally retreat, the fervor ebbing to slow, savoring licks. He nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away just enough to speak.
“Are you ready, witch?”
My power surged in answer. “Yes.”
Hand in hand, we stepped into the abyss.
CHAPTER 64
We did not walk.We fell.
It felt like a blow to the stomach, all of the air suddenly ripped from my chest, my limbs too light and then suddenly much, much too heavy as we crashed to the ground.
Garrick’s hand was immediately on my back, trying to steady me. But it was too late for that. I was already on my knees, my stomach doing violent somersaults as I gulped down air. Beside me, I saw the toes of Alize’s boots. She’d landed on her feet, of course.
“Isanara?”
“I have wings,”she huffed. How dare I ask such an inane question.
I splayed my hand across her back and used it to push myself back to my feet. My first impression was of overwhelming light. Born in the year of the curse, I’d never seen such brightness.
We stood at the threshold of a balcony where it adjoined a cavernous room. The entire structure was built out of a pale golden stone that reflected the light flooding from behind us and almost glowed. Massive pillars rose on either side of the balcony, framing the luxurious suite. Expansive cream and gold rugs covered the stone floors, connecting arched doorways withgeometric carved patterns cut out from stone itself. There was an elegantly appointed bed, a table and chairs, and several bookshelves. They all looked like something out of a dream, so bright and beautiful they could not possibly be of this world.
Because they weren’t, I realized.
“Where are we?” I whispered, even though we were alone.
“Balar Shan,” Garrick said. He was not holding my hand anymore.
My mouth fell open as he reached over his shoulder, freeing the bow and nocking an arrow. But before I could ask what had caused him to draw the weapon he’d avoided even mentioning for the entire time I’d known him, a figure appeared in one of the arched doorways.
Even as a child, Alize was instantly recognizable.
Her hair brushed her shoulders. Two braids started at the center of her forehead before hanging down to frame her face and expose her pointed ears. Her skin was the same luminous gold. But it was the way she moved that alerted me to the likeness. There was confidence and grace in every step, in the tilt of her head as she glanced back over her shoulder, checking for something.
At my side, the present-day Alize sucked in a breath.
She watched, her eyes unreadable as the younger version of herself crossed to the center of the room, where a cradle carved of pale wood rocked gently back and forth.
My stomach clenched.
Garrick slowly lowered his weapon, arrow still conspicuously ready, but at his side instead of pointed at the young fae female.
Young Alize reached the cradle. She stood beside it, gazing down at what I presumed to be a sleeping infant. She waved her hand behind her, and one of the pillows from the bed floated to her on a phantom wind. Her magic had already been strong, even from a young age.
She clenched the pillow in her hands, tension stiffening her body.
Dark God, no.
