by Kristie Cook
My beast sprang to her feet.
“Shit.” I knew where I was. I knew what was below.
The gate Brielle and I had opened. Unlike Dorian’s gate, ours didn’t go to a happy, shiny world that wasn’t war-torn and post-apocalyptic like ours. No, our gate opened to a world much darker than our own. One overrun by evil, perhaps even Satan himself. We hadn’t meant to open it. We’d only been six years old at the time. We didn’t even know how we’d done it. When our parents discovered it, Mom ordered Uncle Owen to seal it shut and cloak it to ensure nobody ever found it again.
Except we had. Brielle and I, ten years later.
“No,” I said aloud, shaking my head as I glared at the ground below, my wings swishing to keep me airborne. “That never happened.”
I didn’t even know where that thought had come from. From the vines, a new whisper in my head? From the gate itself, telling lies to lure me in? Was it opening on its own now?
“Fuck,” I said again.
It hadn’t happened, had it? We hadn’t opened it again, had we? Why did I have this weird feeling that we had? And that the results had been disastrous?
With a quick survey of the surrounding area, I spun in the air and soared back toward the Loft, my heart pounding as fear curled into a tight ball in my gut. I decided as I flew that I’d keep this to myself for now. Brielle was terrified of that darkness that lived inside us, but the more she dwelled on it, the stronger it became. A lesson learned the hard way back at college. No, she didn’t need to know about this, and neither did Charleigh. It couldn’t really mean anything anyway. Right? The razor-sharp vines were just another effect of the black magic still dusting this world. That’s why they felt so dark and sinister. And I hadn’t actually seen the gate. I couldn’t say for sure that it was open or even still there.
“Five minutes!” Charleigh yelled at me, throwing my backpack at me before I even landed. “I said five minutes, and it’s been at least fifteen. Where the hell have you been?”
My heart had already settled, my resolve solid as I dropped to my feet beside her. “Sorry, I just wanted to see beyond the forest.”
She dropped her hands to her hips and arced a brow. “To dragon territory?”
Shit. I’d forgotten about the dragon shifter lair that lived beyond the forest, by the lake. Our mom had managed to make peace with them, but unlike in the shiny world, the dragons here weren’t nice.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t even get close,” I said.
“Did you see anything?” Brielle asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary. None of our people hiding anywhere. You?”
“Nope.”
“So what now?” Charleigh asked, looking between us. “Ravenbury?”
“No,” Brielle said, her dark hair shifting over her shoulders as she shook her head. “If the Loft was in trouble with all the factions, Mom wouldn’t have brought that down on Ravenbury.”
She stared at the ground, which she often did while sifting through the facts and the options, but we didn’t have to be Brielle or my dad to know the best answer. They had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, but this solution was an easy one.
“Misery’s Edge,” I said when they didn’t. “Maybe somebody there knows what happened here. Maybe that’s even where everyone is.”
Doubtful, but not completely impossible. Shamara had vanished that night, and the lesser demons had been eradicated by our mother. There was the slightest chance enough of the norms understood what truly happened—or that the Amadis took over the town to protect it from happening again.
“I don’t think so,” Brielle said. “My guess is Amadis Island, but that’s halfway around the world. We’ll start at the Edge.”
“Are you sure, though?” Charleigh asked me, her motherly worried look filling her light brown eyes. “You’re ready for that?”
“I have to be eventually. Pull it off like a Band-Aid, right?” I shrugged, though I knew they saw through the façade. “Besides, we need to know what happened there, too, after we left. It could be tied to what I saw in the mirrors.”
“Or maybe everything is fine, and our family is hanging out in the market square, laughing and having a good time.” Though she said the words herself, Brielle knew just as well as I did that was a fairytale dream. But she also knew why it was important for us to go back, and not just me. We had to know.
She’d been there that night. She’d seen what our mother had done. And she wasn’t stupid. Nothing was fine. In fact, I was pretty sure that while we’d been having a fabulous time in the other version of Earth, everyone here had paid the consequences of Mom’s actions, including Mom herself. And now we needed to step up and help.
“Of course,” I added as one last thought before we flashed, “they could have burnt it to the ground, and it’s nothing but ashes.”
Chapter 3
“Huh.” My hands dropped to my hips as we stood on a ridge that overlooked the town of Misery’s Edge and the wide river beyond it to the east that carved the continent in half. From here we could also see the old, broken and overgrown highway to the west that drew a concrete line to what had once been St. Louis about fifty or so miles to the north.
“This is … unexpected,” Brie said.
“Could be promising,” Charleigh added as we surveyed the wall surrounding the town and the dozens of people entering and exiting through the gates.
“The wall’s much farther out than it used to be, right?” I asked.
“Definitely,” Brielle said. “Look on the far side—it’s right up to the river. There used to be an area for camping over there.”
“I can’t see as far as you,” Charleigh reminded her. “And unlike you two, I’ve never been here, remember?”
“Well, it’s definitely grown since we’ve been gone,” Brie said.
The protective walls surrounding Misery’s Edge were pushed out every few years as more people settled in, requiring more housing and a bigger market. We’d been impressed that one fateful day, our first and last time ever here, but the growth in the short time we’d been gone was a bit astonishing. Especially after what happened here that night.
“That’s good news then,” Charleigh said. “I mean, it hasn’t been decimated by war, so there’s that.”
“Do you notice what I do, though?” I asked.
Brielle nodded. “That there are a hell of a lot of supernaturals?”
“Yep. Quite a mix, too.” From here, I could easily identify a handful of mages, some in hooded cloaks, and a dozen or so shifters—and that was just near the gate. Unfortunately, though, I couldn’t tell if they were Amadis or Daemoni, which meant they were probably neither—which in turn meant they weren’t our people.
“That could also be good news,” Charleigh said, and I gave her a sideways glance. Charleigh wasn’t normally so . . . upbeat and optimistic. She was a little more cynical, like me. Then again, she did enjoy a good party, something that became quite apparent while we were away at college, and the Edge’s energy today definitely gave off a sort of party vibe.
“So . . . let’s go check it out,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other as nervous energy churned in my gut.
“Shouldn’t we glamour ourselves?” Brielle asked. “There’s a good chance we’re still wanted. You and I might stand out, Elli, and Charleigh’s hair gives her away.”
Our fae blood gave us fae magic, which meant we could change our appearances, from a few tweaks to our clothes to a completely different look.
I shrugged. “You’re the one who can see the best solution. What do you think?”
She stared at the ground for a long moment before finally shaking her head. “We’re looking for our people. They might not recognize us if we don’t look like ourselves. If we run into trouble, Charleigh can cloak us.”
She wiggled her fingers in the air as magic sparked over them. “I’ll be ready.”
“But maybe at least our clothes,” Br
ielle corrected herself. “The fighting leathers might be too much.”
So we adjusted our black leather pants to look like ripped-up black jeans tucked into knee-high boots and our leather vests to appear as tattered tank tops. Then she decided to give us hooded cloaks, after all, not unlike what those mages wore, to at least semi-disguise us. They also provided cover if we needed to draw our weapons.
“There,” Brielle said. “Now we blend in.”
“Raggedy and all,” I muttered, already sorely missing the beautiful fashion of the shiny world. More than tacos, though? I still wasn’t sure. At least, until my stomach growled with hunger. Yeah, tacos sounded amazing.
Charleigh snorted. “Maybe there’s a food stall and we can grab something to eat. Not Mom’s cooking, but we’ll find her and get that soon enough.”
Her confidence in that last bit sounded a little thin.
A few minutes later, I kept my senses on high alert as we passed through the gate, prepared to fight if we were recognized. Last time, every pair of eyes at the gate and on the wall had watched us enter. This time, we weren’t even noticed. I released a long exhale as we followed the crowd down the road toward the center of town, toward the market . . . toward ground zero.
More rows of train cars and semi-trailers had definitely been added, even stacked on top of each other to create additional housing for what appeared to be an exploding population, much of the supernatural kind. In between those were lean-tos and other makeshift buildings made of repurposed materials for additional living space. Rows of dirt paths separated each layer, intersecting with the road that led to Market Square.
“Four more rows added,” Brielle said, keeping her voice low. She would know. She counted everything and forgot nothing. “If each one goes all the way around the perimeter, that’s easily another five thousand people, doubling its population in a year and a half. I wonder what made so many people flock here in such a short time. So many supernaturals.”
Neither Charleigh nor I had an answer, but I couldn’t help but think it had something to do with that night and our parents.
“Maybe a lot of those people are from the Loft,” Charleigh said, though we hadn’t recognized anyone yet.
When we reached Market Square, I noticed it had also expanded. Some of the train cars and trailers had been moved, which might have changed Brie’s calculations, but some were also simply overtaken by merchants rather than used as residences. Most of the shops, though, were still three-sided tents and huts created by scrap wood and various faded fabrics. Fabrics that were often taken home each night to double as bedding. The difference between this world and where we’d been hiding slammed into me. While this was home and the way we’d lived all of our lives, it was almost like a third-world country compared to that of the other world.
Actually, it really was third-world type living, but it was like this globally. The war had destroyed civilizations across the planet, wiping out all electrical systems and the technology that required them, motorized transportation … everything. And the black magic that still remained, no matter how hard Mom’s people tried to remove it, kept frying any attempts at rebuilding the grid and technology. While angel blood had counteracted some of the nuclear fallout, preventing the earth and humanity from completely dying out, that which spilled during the war hadn’t been enough to do the same against the black magic. Then terrible storms and other natural disasters frequently stirred up the dark energy and flattened entire towns. Brielle had intended to learn how to successfully transmute the black magic and meld it with technology while at college, but we hadn’t been there long enough.
My gaze swept over Market Square, taking it all in. It was almost unrecognizable compared to last time, which I found comforting. My tense muscles relaxed some and I could fully exhale when the emotions of that fateful night didn’t slam back into me at the sight—because nothing was the same. The market’s growth brought a bigger variety of products for sale and larger crowds, and other changes—mages, shifters, and the occasional vampire weren’t the only supes that had moved in.
Charleigh leaned in close to me and whispered, “Do you see what I see? Pointy ears and tilted eyes?”
“Since when did fae hang out in our realm?” I murmured.
They supposedly hated our realm, especially after the war because the dark energy was too much for their natures. Then again, as we passed a few while scoping out the area, I realized these fae felt a little dark themselves. That didn’t stop a trail of humans practically throwing themselves at the otherworldly creatures. Even Charleigh started to go doe-eyed, her feet shuffling forward toward a male whose back was turned to us, his silky black hair flowing over his shoulders.
“Hey!” I grabbed her arm and yanked her back to us.
“Shit,” she murmured, then she mumbled what sounded like a spell. “Protection.”
“I can’t believe they’re just out here in the open,” Brielle whispered.
Neither could I, especially with all their features on full view. Not just the pointy ears and tilted eyes, but the faerie stones embedded like jewels in their skin and colorful markings in elaborate designs that looked like tattoos but moved, some giving off a faint glow. These fae weren’t even trying to hide or blend in like they did at school.
Most everything we knew about the fae was from the shiny world, where we had some as classmates and friends. There were multiple fae realms across the dimensions, though, so I didn’t know if those fae were the same as ours here. Sadie was an elf, but from Faery, so technically a type of fae. As far as I knew, the Faery realm of our dimension didn’t have elves. Of course, the fae connected to our world had always been super secretive, so that didn’t really mean anything.
All we knew about ours was that they were mischievous but could be malevolent, and as a rule of thumb, they stayed out of human affairs as well as Amadis/Daemoni and angel/demon business. Some leaned one way or the other, though, and could be helpful—for a price, of course. Giving a fae your word and then breaking it not only put your own neck on the execution block, but those you loved, as well. Even Dad’s mom, who was full-blooded fae herself, cautioned us to never make a deal with any of her kind.
We’d also been warned about the fae’s special effect on others, even other supernaturals. We hadn’t noticed it in the other world, but I definitely sensed it here, even when those around us now must have turned that effect down. Otherwise, pretty much everyone in the market would be naked and throwing themselves at the glorious forms of the sex gods. Er, I mean, the fae. Shit. The effect’s intensity may have been muted, but I still caught a taste of it.
“Hey, look,” Brie said, thankfully distracting me as she tilted her head toward a shop a few stalls down, where an older woman hunched behind the table. “Isn’t that Gertie?”
“Yes!” Charleigh nearly squealed, and we rushed toward the booth selling knitted goods, including replicas of the dolls we used to play with when we were little, made from scrap yarn and material. The elderly norm was definitely from the Loft, her gray head with the thinning hair and milky blue eyes familiar, even if her face seemed more creased than before.
“Gertie?” Brielle called out when we were nearly there.
Her head lifted, her eyes narrowing on us for a moment before recognition filled them. I expected a grin to greet us. She’d always liked us. Instead, her eyes widened, filled with fear, and she shook her head.
“What’s wrong?” Charleigh asked as we entered the stall.
“Get out,” she hissed.
“Don’t you—” I began, but she cut me off.
“I said to get out!” She waved her hands at us, shooing us away, but we didn’t move at first. “Go away! I have nothing for you.”
The three of us exchanged a glance before hurrying out of the stall.
“That was weird, right?” Brielle whispered.
“Do you think she has dementia?” Charleigh asked as we moved along. “She does look like she’s aged a few year
s since we last saw her.”
I snorted. “More like a decade.”
“And that was less than two years ago.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Brie suggested. “Maybe she had a stroke. Or something caused by the colata tree that ate her foot. That could be why she doesn’t remember us.”
“Whatever happened, she’s obviously no help to us. Let’s keep going,” I said, nervous energy ramping up again. I felt like we were buying our time here, and we’d soon run out of currency.
As we searched for more familiar faces, I couldn’t help but inspect some of the goods for sale, even if the clothes were nothing like what I’d become used to. Charleigh was especially drawn to the tents selling witchy wares—which there were several of, compared to last time, when there’d been only one.
“I’m officially ruined,” Charleigh lamented as we left one such stall, tugging on the straps of her backpack. “I should have raided the apothecary at school and brought more supplies with us. I only grabbed a few of the rarest and most versatile.”
“The magic is in us,” I reminded her, echoing one of our mage teacher’s favorite things to say. “Who needs tools?”
She snorted. “Maybe not you and Brielle, but I’m just a lowly witch and still need supplies for potions.”
We entered another tent selling mostly healing salves, herbs, and oils, where a pretty girl about our age haggled with the vendor. Her blond braids and dreadlocks trailed down her back, over a large bag, a quiver of arrows, and a bow. I couldn’t get a read on her—if she was human or something else, which made me think something else but hiding her true energy.
“Okay, okay, Sky, you wore me down. I’ll take the burn salves,” the vendor, a middle-aged woman with graying red hair, said. “But do you have any of those dreamcatchers?”
The blonde leaned back on her heels and gave the woman a pointed look with a single brow arched upward. “I thought you didn’t believe in them.”
The vendor pulled her lips to the side and shrugged. “My son’s been having terrible nightmares. I heard yours work.”