And yet here I sat. Alone. Disconnected. Hopeless.
I’d come down here hoping to convince people to go through the portal, hoping to weaken the Darkest Lord’s spirit army before they attacked our realm. But all I’d done was get myself trapped. If the man in the hood—the Harbinger—was to be believed, then I had effectively split my soul from my body, and that didn’t bode well for my return to the land of the living.
Everyone had warned me of the dangers of coming to the underworld, and I’d done it anyway. Where had it gotten me? I’d released a few spirits—maybe a few hundred—but most hadn’t been part of the army. Just lost souls seeking release. Meanwhile, I’d left my post as Fae Queen. I’d disappeared from the people I loved.
I sat on the floor of my cell, feeling the grimy dirt beneath me. A far cry from the circle of stones where I’d sat for hours and hours.The circle of stones. A memory, a clear memory, from the realm of the living. I closed my eyes and clung to that memory. Itwas vague, distant. But I could feel the dryness of the tiny stones against my leg. The hunger in my belly. A visceral, colorful memory.
What had I been doing there?
“Training,” I said aloud. “I was training to be the Fae Queen.”
As I focused on these bits and pieces of memories, other ones emerged in my peripheral vision. Memories that must have been deeply rooted in my subconscious: faces. Silas, Lily, Millie.
These memories gave me some resolve. If I was truly trapped here, if this was reallyit,then I needed to give escape one last go. I couldn’t wallow until the Darkest Lord claimed me.
But it was hard. This place crushed hope like metal jaws. The despair here was deeper than anything I’d known: it stole the breath from my lungs, made me feel like there was nothing left to live for, and on a level unlike anything I’d ever felt before. But maybe if I could concentrate on the memories I had left, I wouldn’t get swallowed whole.
Liza’s hand in mine. I could still feel it. Her little grip. Her smiling face.
Who is this man who visited my cell?If only I could remember his name. It must not have been someone I knew well. I had even remembered Fenlon, a man who I had clearly disliked enough to remember. But the man’s name still escaped me.
Training. Liza. Silas. Gravel.
Fae Queen. Sisters. Ancestors. Fae Powers.
I had been in training to be the Fae Queen in my corner of the living realm. I was confident in that. There had to be something from my training that I could use to escape the clutches of the Darkest Lord. I knew I still had a connection with my ancestors; just because my spirit wasn’t attached to my body didn’t mean my spirit wasn’t attached to past spirits.
I replayed those thoughts on a loop. As I did, I felt it—that subtle thread connecting me to them. It was tenuous, fragile, butthere. I wasn’t alone. I held on to it until I saw them. Until I heard them.Spirits.
I was a spirit now, existing in a spirit realm. Maybe, just maybe, I could transfer to another. After all, I’d opened a portal here for other spirits to transfer through. What if I could do the same for myself?
I couldn’t do it without help. But Ididhave help.
Take me home,I whispered to my sisters.One last time.
Then I closed my eyes. And the next time I opened them, I was home.
eleven
Darknesssurroundedme—butitwas a living darkness. Fireflies. Glints of gold. Movement of water. I’d returned to The Glade, successfully moving from one spirit world to the next.
My ancestors had pulled me out of the underworld at my request, no doubt a much-welcome side effect of unlocking the channel between us. As they’d promised via their whispers on the wind around the circle of stones, they had walked with me through the underworld for my entire journey.
Relief flooded through me as I took in my surroundings, but that relief was wildly fleeting. A somberness hung in the air despite my return home. As I glanced down, I realized that I was still in my spirit form; I hadn’t been returned to my body, as the man in my cell had warned.
The last time I’d visited The Glade, I’d been in my normal form. Now, I floated in that eerie, disconnected sort of way that wasn’t entirely human. But in a strange way, the sensation of being bodiless also felt right here. The Glade, after all, was aspirit world. I was more spirit than not at the moment, and something about it was exceedingly fitting. And also alarming.
A part of me felt like I belonged here. My ancestors were here as spirits; would it be so terrible to simply…join them?
Not yet,that little voice spoke in my head.Tempting as it may be.
“It’s not your time.” A bodiless voice confirmed what I’d been thinking.
The first time I had heard my ancestors speak, the voice had sounded like a hundred voices in one—a collective group of my ancestors communicating with me. This time, instead of a chorus of voices, I heard just one—clear and distinct. A woman’s voice. Hopeful and gentle, comforting and wise.
“It’s me, Alessia,” she said. “It’s me.”
Before I could process all the things I was feeling, I saw movement. From between the massive stone statues of the goddesses who ruled in the eons before me, I saw her. She moved like a spirit—ghostly, pale, a wisp—but she was beautiful.
