“It’s more than a hunch?” I asked. “You know a way?”
Again, a silent, speedy nod.
“Tomorrow,” I whispered, as Silas and Lily entered the room behind me.
Millie arrived to take Liza away to her bedroom. Rangers would be stationed throughout the castle overnight, so I had no concern for her safety here. But when I caught the glance she shot back my way, I realized that she was concerned. She was concerned for my safety.
I closed my eyes, and I could feel Liza’s concern. She was a beautiful, rosy-pink marble in my chest. When I concentrated, I could feel the dread building inside her, and I felt terrible for asking such a big task of such a small person.
But I didn’t know another way to save the island.
Into the underworld I must go.
seven
Agroupofusstayed in the castle that night. Silas suggested it would be easiest and, more importantly, safest to keep together. Lily pointed out before we all went to bed that now the Darkest Lord was aware of her potion that could freeze spirits.
Instead of being able to blindside them with it on the eve of a bigger attack, we’d had to give away some of our secrets early on during this surprise visit from the spirit on the chariot.
Ranger X offered to keep several of his Rangers stationed in and around the castle for the night, and Silas quickly agreed that would be a good idea. I didn’t have the strength to argue about it, nor the desire. If we were going to be getting attacked by spirits ad nauseum over the next few days as the blood moon approached, why not have the additional help?
Silas and I slept in the master bedroom, the one where Lily had helped me get ready a few hours earlier. Liza and Millie took nearby adjoining rooms. Ranger X and Lily opted to go home for the night. I could hear the Rangers patrolling, near-silent, as I drifted off to sleep in Silas’s arms.
That night I was visited by the spirit in the chariot in my dreams. It’s just a dream, I told myself, even in my dream. It didn’t have that same feeling of reality as the third trial, but it was more than your garden-variety nightmare.
It was one of the final moments that plagued me the most, that last moment when I glanced into the spirit’s eyes and saw something there—a glimmer of curiosity. Like this was all a game to him. I couldn’t shake the creeping sense that those eyes were familiar, that I’d seen them somewhere before. The way they’d crinkled, not in fear but in an almost eagerness, just before I destroyed the chariot, had me unsettled.
I was under no illusion that I’d permanently destroyed the spirits. I’d broken them, like a shattered ice cube, but I hadn’t eliminated the essence of them, and spirits were more essence than form. I had no doubt I’d see those creepy eyes again.
When I woke, it was still dark. Silas was hard asleep next to me, so I crept out of bed silently. I patrolled the hallways of the castle, familiarizing myself with the whiteness of the walls, the maze of corridors and passageways. The interior felt larger than it looked on the outside, but not massive. It was a compact fortress, perfect for me. Perfect for me and Silas.
Occasionally I passed a Ranger. None of them spoke to me. They gave me subtle nods, kept their eyes averted. They must have been instructed to be on high alert and they were all taking the threat of another attack very seriously.
It was comforting to know that I wasn’t in this alone. After weeks of training by myself and feeling rather isolated by the fact that I was the only one with Fae powers in existence, the weight on my shoulders had at times felt immense. The tasks ahead of me were insurmountable.
But here, now, enclosed in a castle with others working toward the same cause, I felt like a part of a team. We each had differentpositions, but we were all working toward the same goal: a win against the Darkest Lord.
I thought she was a ghost—her skin pale against the marble walls, her dress a white shift that moved like a breeze. I only recognized Liza once I saw her eyes turning to look up at me in fear.
“Liza.” I rushed toward the little girl. She was crouched outside of her bedroom, her back to the wall, knees tucked under her thin nightgown. “Are you okay?”
Liza just nodded. Her hand reached out for me, rested on my forearm. She was a little shaky which, in turn, shook me. The girl had been through so much, was one of the bravest children I’d ever encountered, and I wasn’t sure I could ever recall her looking nervous before. Not like this, like she had seen a ghost.
“Did they visit you too?” she asked quietly.
“You had dreams?” My heart sank.
I had been hoping Silas was correct, that the dreams were nothing more than that—stress induced terrors visiting me while I tried to rest. But when it came to matters of the spirits, Liza had proven more times than I could count that she knew more than most. I trusted her.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I was hoping it was just a regular nightmare, but I couldn’t shake the feeling...”
Liza just nodded as I trailed off. I didn’t know how to describe it, not exactly. I could see how she’d struggled to put these sorts of things into words before. When I’d asked her how she communicated with her mother, some of her answers had seemed vague. Fraught with intangible types of explanations. Now, I understood why. Because the whole experience was vague and intangible.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go get a cup of tea. No sense setting up camp here in the hallway.”
Liza rose as I took her hand, and she followed me softly down to the kitchen. She never let go of my hand the entire time, and at one point, I paused, relishing the feel of a child’s hand in mine. So trusting, so vulnerable, so innocent. Like I was the lifeline for her, and in a way, she to me.
I glanced down at Liza’s head, her hair mussed from sleep, and couldn’t help but press a kiss to the top of it. A motion so simple it should feel routine, though it felt anything but. I’d had a night nanny for years, so if I’d ever woken from a dream, I’d either been tended to by the nanny or, later, instructed to go back to bed. All I’d wanted was a kiss or a hug or a shred of reassurance that all would be well, and that had been hard to find in my sterile mausoleum of a home.
