Crack!The sound speared through the dungeons. Other unnatural popping sounds followed.
Maura’s brain dissociated, turning to fog as she stumbled up the staircase.
Tabitha.Memories of their most cherished moments sparked in her mind like a warm fire stroking her cheek.
When the click of the door shut behind her, she fell to her knees and retched. Over and over, until darkness.
2
CARWYNN
LUCKLAND—THE PRESENT
In many ways,Death’s embrace was where I was born.
I trailed fingers over the rough scar that sliced across my throat. A clean line from left to right, with uniformly spaced stitch marks along it. My pale skin only enhanced the pink discoloration.
The ridges and bumps soothed me as I ran my fingers over them. Although a reminder of the most traumatic night of my life, it was proof I was still here,alive.And being alive meant purpose. That purpose being . . . well, no goddamn clue, really. But I needed to start by finding myself. Whoever that was. Easier said than done.
A shadow darted across the room behind me. I whipped my head around so fast I nearly tore a muscle.
Nothing. Only my empty bedroom.
Myinkling—my innately gifted sixth sense—sparked to life. Goosebumps pimpled down my forearms.
Sensing weird things like ghosts, shifts in energy,the dead, were all part of a normal day for me. But ever since I’d arrived in the Ferie Realm and moved to Luckland, something haddrastically changed. I’d spent my entire life in the Human World, up until recently. Spirits and shadows felt much lighter there. But here, they were heavy, creepier even. These shadows weresomething more. Every time they flickered at the edge of my vision, an unsettling weight plunged into the depths of my stomach. It feltoff.
I shook off the remaining chill. Things were undoubtedly different here, and the moment my feet touched Ferie’s soil, my ability flared to life like never before. My recurring dreams intensified tenfold, as if they were calling to me—one where I’d find a pink, egg-shaped stone. The other, I’d appear in a cave, smashing a black box carved with gold markings.Magical relics. Relics I’d spent years searching for, hoping to prove they were real, to no avail. But the uptick in strangeness, I assumed, was all part of adjusting to the unfamiliar magic here.
I held a stunning lace choker up to my neck, clasping it in the back. It was black, elegant, with a whisper of something gothic, like it’d been stolen from the withering hands of a dying queen in the pages of a long-forgotten fairytale. My drawer had been filled to the brim with them in a variety of colors and textures, suited for every possible occasion.
It’s not that I found the scar unsightly. I knew others would. Superficiality on looks wasn’t only isolated to the Human Realm and drawing extra attention to myself was something to be avoided.
I rubbed my bare earlobe with a thumb and forefinger.
Gold. The outfit definitely needed a pop of gold. A color that would never go out of style in Luckland.
Opening my small jewelry box, my fingers traced the empty space.
Gone? What the hell!
I pulled open the top dresser drawer, disheveling the contents, angrily sifting through.
“Whereare they!”
It took a half hour to settle on an appropriate outfit. I needed something enticing, yet sophisticated, so I finally decided on a black, long-sleeve sweater dress. It was form-fitting, in a classy-not-trashy way, and a tad low-cut.
Now, the beautiful gold earrings. If I could find them.
People said an outfit can speak volumes, so I was going for—I’m young but not dumb.Though, I could already hear David’s voice in my head yelling otherwise.
Since adopting me in my early teens, David had taken his role of overprotective father way too seriously. A part of me got it—he was the one who’d found me as a kid, butchered in a cemetery, barely alive and bleeding out in a pool of my own blood. He’d made a promise to my long-dead mother—his best friend—that he’d keep me safe. So, yeah, finding your honorary kid sprawled out, throat slit, probably added a little trauma.
But I wasn’t a teenager anymore—nearing twenty-five—for god’s sake. He desperately needed to dial the dad energy down frommaximum security prisontocollege dorm.
Especially after the Lochlainn incident. When David found out I’d told Lochlainn about my Soulsayer ability, and worse,used itin exchange for money, he went ballistic. Made me swear never to do it again.
My Soulsayer ability was a rare gift from Hallow Land—the place I was born. Not that I remembered it. But Soulsayers could speak to the dead, coax answers from the afterlife with the right object, or right mood. But they were onlyspeakers.Sayers.
