Unfortunately, our time crunch necessitated haste. Fifteen minutes. But it was worth the extra few minutes to know, deep in my bones, that I wasn’t chasing shadows on the wall.
This was real.
And it could bring down MagiTekk.
Martin leaned against the model, the model shanties vibrating. “Then it seems we each have something the other needs.”
“And what is it you need, Prince Martin?”
“If I give you access to the catacombs, my price is simple.” He looked up from the miniature, of what his beloved Realm would become if I failed to deliver. “I need a sample of the water. From the Tributary’s source itself.”
“I can do that.”
“Do not be so quick to agree, Realmfarer.” Martin glanced at me warily. “For there is one other consideration.”
“Naturally.”
“Our kingdom cannot sustain the damage of such a siege. We will be forced to surrender and allow the forces of MagiTekk to enter the catacombs.”
“Way to pass the buck.”
Martin smiled grimly. “Such is the weight that comes with tremendous responsibility.”
“Where do I sign?” I asked.
Martin pushed himself off the table and extended his hand. “You have my word.”
“Then we have ourselves a deal.”
20
“This is where we part ways, Miss Callaway.” Martin swept up his robes. The ground beneath our feet turned from stone to mud. The tunnel leading into the catacombs was dark and unlit, a musty, damp smell hanging in the air.
As if to remind us to hurry, the watch beeped. Ten minutes left.
“You’re not going to show us the way?” I asked with sarcasm. “What kind of service is that?”
“I believe you already know the way.” Martin fished within his royal robes. His hand reemerged with a handful of shotgun shells. “This is all we have that fits your gun. Hopefully they serve you well.”
I took the five shells, feeling the unfamiliar magical energy pulsating within. “What are they?”
“Make sure you’re standing back when you fire,” Martin said cryptically. “And don’t forget our deal, when this all ends.”
There was no undercurrent of a threat. The Fae Plains were a tiny kingdom on the verge of civil war—or total destruction at the hands of MagiTekk. Martin possessed no leverage. He merely had to rely on my conscience and our handshake.
I nodded and took my first step into the mud.
“And Ruby?”
“Yes?”
“It won’t be much of a head start.” The castle quaked, dust filtering down from the cracks in the stone ceiling. Martin gave me a curt nod before hurrying back from where we’d come.
I glanced at Roark and said, “Not the worst basement I’ve ever been in.” The cellar where I’d found Kalos—and almost died, back in 1812—made this look like an island resort.
“We’re so close.” I could sense the excitement in his tone—but I was pretty sure it had less to do with my agenda than his own. Harcourt’s promises of the truth had burrowed their way into his brain stem like a virus.
Roark needed to know who had brought the necromancer up from the Underworld.
But I had other plans for the Tributary. Pearl had prophesied that my journey would end at the source. And I intended to make sure there were no repeat trips.
Which meant the Tributary had to go. Even if that meant robbing Roark of his pursuit of the truth.
“Don’t speak too soon,” I said. “Things can always get worse.”
He strode past, his posture ramrod straight. “We’ll see about that.”
“That we will, Roark.” I stared into the dark catacombs, damp decay wafting past us. “That we most certainly will.”
21
As it turned out, the catacombs beneath the Fae palace were actually more of a swamp. They’d long ago been reclaimed by the elements. If the map Harcourt had stolen was valuable enough for Solon to banish him, that wasn’t reflected in this marshland. No one had poked around down here in years. My phone’s display flashed red, indicating its battery was on the verge of death. Grass-like stalks bobbed gently in the dim glow.
“How much longer?” Roark called to me. He was running only a few steps behind, but the darkness was near-absolute down here beneath the castle.
“Not far.” I squinted at the map in the darkness, but my voice wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence. My boots squished through the spongy mud, each step feeling like the ground was trying to swallow me whole. For all I knew, it really was—who knew what lurked down in these caverns?
The castle shifted, sending shockwaves through the dark catacombs. Bats hissed, fluttering about in fits of pointless protest. I didn’t stop running, even with fatigue and fear settling into my bones. If the castle fell through the ground, we would both be dead.
But there was no turning back, now. We had minutes before our chance to enter the Tributary would be gone forever. Hesitation would result in a fate worse than death: MagiTekk emerging victorious.
“Left turn ahead,” I called out to the darkness, waving the phone in an effort to find Roark. The ghostly beam passed over the wall, revealing human writing. Mostly incoherent messages—unsurprising, given the pitch black.
But it made me nervous knowing that, somewhere in the murk, a colony of cave dwellers might be lurking. Like Solon’s forest dwellers, cut off from society and turned feral. I fought my way through the mud to the wall to take a closer look. Blood and sharp carvings mingled along the wall, telling a story.
From a cursory scan of the pictograms, most of it mirrored what Martin had told me: the story of Ragnarök and the end of the gods. But my intuition wasn’t worried about what was already known.
It was pointing to a section at the bottom, covered in overgrowth.
“What’s the hold up?” Roark sprinted up next to me, breathing heavily. “We gotta move, Ruby.”
The wisps flitted around the carvings, faint due to my exhaustion. They floated around one frame, half-covered by marsh grass. I broke the rough stalks away and crouched.
“Look at this.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
But I was transfixed by the frame. Everything I’d known was wrong. I wasn’t saving the world by traveling to the source.
I was opening the portal so that evil things could float through.
It was etched into the craggy walls, clear as a photograph. A woman running through a doorway, all manners of demonic hellfire and evil trailing behind her.
MagiTekk didn’t need to study me at all. I’d just lead them through.
“We need to turn around,” I said, turning the thin beam toward Roark.
His blue eyes shone with confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“They can’t get through without me,” I said. “And if I go through, they’re sure to follow.”
“You don’t know that.” Roark’s jaw tensed. “And you said that we don’t have a chance without whatever lies within.”
“Just let me think, damnit.” Everything had been so clear two minutes before: get into the Tributary. Capture enough of the source’s power to stop MagiTekk and Malcolm Roark. Then set fire to the Realm, so that no one could ever return.
Now, however…
I rubbed my sweaty forehead, trying to sort through the scenarios. If I had the energy, I’d have tried to trigger a vision. But any lingering effects of the last booster shot had worn off long ago. My temples pounded.
The phone emitted a warning chime, briefly displaying BATTERY DEPLETED before dying. The tunnels plunged into absolute darkness. Then, I heard a heavy panting up ahead. Coming from the left.
“That’s not funny,” I said to Roark.
There was a roar in the blackness, and Roark yelled, “Duck!”
I slammed face first into the mud just as a jet of fire burst over my head.
But this was no dragon. Instead, in the flaming glow, I saw, far up ahead in
the catacombs, a familiar demoness wearing a cowboy hat.
It seemed Odessa had beaten us to the Tributary.
And she was playing to win.
22
I fought to free my tired body from the thick mud. Odessa’s first demonic immolation spell had illuminated the catacombs behind us, igniting some of the tunnel foliage. The crackling flames told me that we wouldn’t be headed that way any time soon.
Finally freeing my hands from the spongy marsh, I reached for the shotgun.
“Don’t do it, girl,” Odessa said with a slight drawl. “I need y’all alive.” She smiled, a little flicker of flame sitting on her finger like a candle. “One of you, at least.”
“And I need you dead.”
“You think you can draw before I kill your boyfriend, be my guest.”
I blinked mud from my eyelashes as I looked up. Odessa’s finger was pointed at Roark. As much as I hated to admit it, the demoness had us over a barrel. Even if I could get a shot off, Roark would definitely be toast.
Sometimes having no offensive magical powers of your own sucked.
This was one of those times.
I let my hand slide off the shotgun’s stock, leaving it in the back holster. With a stumbling effort, I managed to stand. Brushing myself off was hopeless. These clothes would need to be burned—if I made it out alive.
Satisfied, Odessa let her finger drop. She tipped her hat, brown hair gleaming in the flickering flame, and gestured as forward. With a wary glance at Roark, I followed her request. Eyes still adjusting to the light, I found that the demoness was standing right before the entrance to the Tributary.
She must’ve slipped past in the darkness.
I resisted the urge to check my watch. Couldn’t be long, now.
“You managed to get through the siege,” I said, glaring at her. “You’ll have to teach me your tricks.”
“My tricks are simple,” Odessa said. Without provocation, she reached into the folds of her short skirt and took out a blood vial. She flung it at me. “Partner with the winning team.”
I caught the empty glass and looked inside. The wisps buzzed around it angrily. “You struck a deal with Malcolm. And tracked me with my blood.”
“The Tributary really is too much power for one girl, anyway,” Odessa said. “I can share it with others, as long as I get my cut.”
With a flourish, she turned around and ejected another stream of fire from her fingers. A ring of flame crackled around the stone entranceway. I felt a slight twinge in my chest. I’d forgotten that demons could only cast black magic by fueling it with someone’s soul.
I guess Roark had been the unfortunate first victim. Now I was getting a taste. It was more a warning shot than a problem—like a chipped tooth. But I knew that Odessa could turn either one of us into a soulless, shambling acolyte with precious little effort. And she would certainly do so, once our usefulness expired.
Which would come soon enough. But I held an important bargaining chip: as a Realmfarer, only I could open the door to the ninth world. Once that stood open, I became a loose end. Worse than that: a thorn in Odessa’s side. A hail of demon fire would greet us the minute the entrance to the Tributary opened.
Striding forward with the confidence of a dead woman, I said, “You need me alive.” I checked my watch. “And you have only three minutes before the door closes for good.”
“Why do you think I’m having this conversation with y’all?” Odessa rolled her eyes and wiped a stray strand of sweat from her brow. “Goodness, Ruby, I didn’t take you for a fool.”
“Which is why I’m not opening the door.” I extracted the lightning blade from my belt and tossed it casually into the air. Catching it behind my back, I gave Odessa a wicked smile.
“If that’s meant for my throat—”
“It would’ve found its way there already.” I met her gaze, the amber-tinged eyes a telltale sign of the demonic furnace burning beneath the attractive exterior. For a demon, she was remarkably cordial and calm. The only demon I’d met with more control over their baser instincts had been Kalos.
And he’d only been half a demon.
“Not many would stand near me,” Odessa said.
“I’ve been told the same.” I ran my finger along the blade’s tip, feeling its sharp edge nip at my skin. “So here’s how this is going to work.”
“Need I remind you that your handsome knight can be turned into cinders.”
“Spare me the theatrics,” I said. “You can kill us both, or you can get what you want.” I didn’t even glance at Roark. “We’re both dead if I open that Rift.” I brandished the knife toward the fire-ringed entrance to the Tributary. For being the source of magical energy from which supernatural life flowed, it was shockingly nondescript, little more than a stone slab.
But appearances could be deceiving.
“And what alternative do you propose?”
“More power than you ever dreamed of.” I pressed the knife against my palm and then made a quick slice. Blood trickled into the mud at my feet. “Which is why you’ll make this Blood Oath.”
Odessa’s eyes began to burn a bright orange, the demonic tendencies creeping to the surface.
It was like I’d suggested she would have to stop eating small woodland creatures and small children—or whatever power-hungry demonesses did in their spare time. An angry power coiled through her body, like a snake readying a venomous strike.
“You do not dictate the terms, Realmfarer.”
“And yet, it seems that’s exactly what I’m doing.” I held out my bloody hand.
Thin jets of smoke trickled from her nostrils. I could feel her dark magic probing my soul, searching for the best, tastiest morsel to devour. Then, to my surprise, the light went out in her eyes, like someone had flipped a switch.
Looking remarkably human, Odessa said, “Very well. Explain what you want.”
“You or your disciples cannot cause Roark or I harm,” I said. “Or kill us.”
Odessa hissed, the smoke returning. “Unreasonable.”
“Then kill us, now,” I said, voice icy. The funereal silence in the catacombs was punctuated only by the crackle of flame and the shriek of bats trying to escape the blaze. My watch beeped, a sharp pulse counting down the final minute. I stood my ground, not even breathing. Strangely, my heart seemed at peace with my decision: if these were to be my final moments, then so be it.
Not the best final resting place. But it was a tunnel I was willing to die in.
“Y’all strike a hell of a bargain.” Odessa tipped her hat. “Time’s a wasting, Realmfarer.”
She grabbed the knife and raked it across her palm. It was funny: she bled exactly the same, yet we were worlds apart. I wondered if, in the dark of night, her conscience ever kept her awake, whispering into her ear. Wanted her to answer for the things she’d done.
Odessa extended her hand, and I clasped it firmly. The magical energy tingled as the essence wove together, binding our fates for the foreseeable future. The buzzing dissipated when we released our grip.
The demoness looked down at her palm with a raised eyebrow. “You are unlike any being I have ever encountered, Realmfarer.”
I glanced at Roark, who looked on in semi-stunned silence. “I’ve been getting that a lot, lately.”
I pulled a lever on the wall, and the stone slab moved aside, revealing a glittering world within.
The watch blared loudly as we walked through the Realm Rift and entered the source.
23
Much to my shock—and slight disappointment—entering the legendary lost ninth Realm was no different than traversing any other Realm rift. The only difference had been the entry hatch: in this case, a giant stone slab which had quickly rolled aside when I pulled a nearby lever.
And the fact that there was no tunnel. Just a straight portal into paradise.
I stared at the verdant landscape, feeling the pull of the energy within the Tributary.
“My Go
d, it’s unbelievable,” Odessa said. I doubted she was prone to being overly impressed.
Blinding sunlight poured from the sky, the smell of sweet fruit trees and lush greenery displacing the staleness of the catacombs still clinging to my nostrils. The stone slab slammed shut behind us, shaking the nearby trees.
I watched as it was reclaimed by the landscape, until it became part of a rock formation.
“No going back,” Roark said.
“Who would ever want to go back?” I asked, tumbling onto the soft grass. A brook babbled, cutting through the perfect forest. The unblemished river stretched onward into the horizon, where everything opened into a brilliantly blue ocean.
I stared at the pristine sky, overwhelmed by the beauty.
Roark’s sharp words came to me as if in a dream. “Hey—where the hell are you going?”
Bang. Bang.
Then a few empty clicks, indicating Roark was out of ammo.
The gunshots jarred me back to reality. There was still a job left to do. If the strange pictograms in the catacombs had given me pause a few minutes before, that didn’t matter, now. We were committed to finding the source. There was no sign of MagiTekk—and the demoness couldn’t harm either of us.
Perhaps the etchings on the walls had been little more than misguided scribblings.
I rose from the meadow, still feeling punch drunk from the beauty.
I blinked at Roark and said, “Where’s the demoness?”
“You didn’t see?” Roark gestured toward the horizon—toward the ocean. He looked at me with concern. “What’s going on, Ruby?”
“I’m fine.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to wipe away the fog covering my brain. Everything hummed in my ears.
Unsteady on my feet, I walked slowly to where Odessa had dropped the bloody knife in the perfect grass. I bent over, picking up the blade.
“You didn’t notice when she just ran off.”
“I’m—” I dropped to one knee.
Then the world cut to black.
Blood River (The Ruby Callaway Trilogy Book 3) Page 10