One day, the word would have true meaning again.
One day, she would figure out exactly where she belonged.
One day, she wouldn’t wake up and think that maybe her memories weren’t the only thing she’d been cursed to lose.
Alexia’s taunting voice cracked through her suffocating reverie.
“Why are you so angry that I’m making you cross the gate? Don’t you want to see your prince again?”
Bridget turned around to glare at her, only to realize Alexia’s eyes were glued to the phone on her lap. Throat tight, Bridget looked down to realize she’d unconsciously tapped on her device’s little screen to look at the background picture. The one she’d spent days scrolling through a club’s social media to find. Even though he hardly looked like himself in the Bob Ross costume, Cade’s wide grin never failed to make her stomach flutter. She hated that it felt like the only thing she had left of him.
“We’re going to Andarre, not Elyria. That is the end goal of your not so thought out master plan, right?” Bridget said, stuffing her phone in her purse so she wouldn’t be tempted to look at it again. Of course, she wanted to see Cade. Bridget didn’t think that would come as a surprise to anyone in the car. But if they were stuck in Andarre past the spring solstice… then she was never setting foot in Elyria again.
After a brief pause, Alexia said, “Since you won’t ask, Andarre is beautiful.”
“For fuck’s sake…” Archer groaned, knocking his forehead into the steering wheel. “Learn to read the room.”
Nylah snorted. “More like the car.”
“It’s an island surrounded by the bluest ocean,” Alexia continued. “Every city is built with white brick and light blue roofs. Every beach is full of the softest, palest sand. It’s always the perfect temperature, even in winter. And the food… better than anything a Fae can cook up.”
Bridget rolled her eyes and tried not to be appealed by the description. “Sounds magical.”
“So does Jamaica. At least I wouldn’t get executed on the spot there,” Archer let slip under his breath.
“There’s nothing magical about it.” Alexia sneered. “Magic is forbidden there.”
“Except for the use of protective runes. And Shamans, when whoever’s in charge needs help with the future,” Bridget chided. “Seems hypocritical.”
Alexia raised a brow. “You can take that up with the King when we get there.”
“Yeah, I’m sure I will,” Bridget replied blithely, returning her gaze to the window. The conspiratorial, taunting gleam brewing in Alexia’s eyes rattled her. When they got there, there would be no time to complain to kings. Once Nylah was healed, they would get the hell out of there.
The expanse of forest outside New London gave Bridget the chills. She barely remembered being in the shrouded, dark state park where the gate to Cavamyne was located, but the hairs on her arm stood straight up, like her body subconsciously relived the memory with every step she took. Bridget squeezed Nylah’s hand tighter and followed Archer down a narrow path. Since they’d parked the car, he’d been unusually quiet. Every few seconds, he nervously glanced at the shadows around them.
“Didn’t you drive us right up to the gate last time?” Bridget asked.
“Last time, there wasn’t four inches of snow on the ground. Do you really think that rental car could make it up this hill?”
Seconds later, Nylah slipped and pulled Bridget down with her. Falling on her knees, Bridget quickly lifted her arm to make sure her sister didn’t fall on her face. He did have a point. The steep incline into the treeswasicy. A few feet behind them, Alexia grasped a tree and tried to stay upright. Bridget hoped she would fall on her ass and break her tailbone.
Once they finally reached a plateau, Archer led them to a break in the forest. Past the mossy tree line, noise ceased. All Bridget could hear was her own breathing and the crunchy sound of snow beneath her feet. She gazed up at the sky, but it had disappeared. Only the dark, looming tops of trees shone down on her. In a way, it reminded her of the Elder Woods. At leastthere, she hadn’t felt alone. No matter how much she trusted Archer, she couldn’t get rid of the shiver that seemed lodged in her spine.
When the gate came into sight, Bridget’s heart almost stopped. It looked unassuming. Any other hiker would probably pass it by without a second glance. But she knew better. Slowly, she approached the large, standing stone. It was taller than she remembered. And just like Archer had described, a jagged crack now went right down the middle. Even though it wasn’t buzzing, she braced herself like it suddenly would start. Maybe it would. Bridget gazed around them for a sign of the Shaman, but the woods were empty. When Nylah tried to move closer to the stone, Bridget pushed her backward.
Out of breath, Alexia leaned against another tree. “What now? We’ve been circling the woods for hours. The Shaman’s obviously not here.”
“Give me a minute,” Bridget snapped. Givehima minute, really. She twitched her gloved fingers. Maybe she needed to yell or shout to get his attention. Last time, she’d talked to the stone to make him appear. Bridget studied her present company. That was something she didn’t want to do in front of them. Instead, she moved to stand a few feet from the stone. With her foot, Bridget kicked a layer of snow and leaves away. The hard dirt beneath was bare and lifeless.
Archer appeared beside her. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure,” Bridget muttered, feeling sheepish. She’d been hoping, or dreading, to find some kind of sign she’d been there. Proof of the last time she’d come through the gate. Whatever blood or grime she’d left behind had already been cleaned or washed away with the seasons.
Bridget stared at the stone. And then at the space behind it. “I know you’re watching,” she whispered. The static in the air told her as much. It’d been a while since she’d felt the swirling tension of magic in the air. Turning to Archer, Bridget said, “Try a spell. Maybe that will get his attention.”
“Like what? I’m better with potions.”
“I don’t know. A summoning spell.”
