by S. D. Grimm
Garmr turned on him, knocking him to the ground. Logan thrust his sword into the creature’s heart. She staggered but still didn’t fall.
Behind her, the wolves had almost pushed the Mistress and the other barghest through the hole. The Deliverers were almost safe.
Garmr growled. “Impossible.” A power rocked the land and Garmr shook. “No mortal’s weapon may pierce me.”
Logan twisted his sword, and Garmr fell, dead. He stood and wiped the blade on her corpse. “I am immortal in this realm.”
“You will die!” The Mistress’s voice echoed through the Shadowland, and Logan looked into her frantic eyes as the hole she’d ripped into this realm began to close her off. But her eyes changed. An evil glow hit them and she said, “No. They will feel my wrath.” And she aimed her hand.
Logan looked over his shoulder. Rebekah had rushed to Jayden’s side and stood in front of the Deliverers.
No. His heart whispered the word. Whatever the Mistress planned to do would hit them all. He couldn’t let that happen.
As a dark string of mist shot through the hole, the wolves drove the Mistress inside, and the hole closed. But the mist split into three sections. The first hit the white wolf, and it shattered into a thousand specks of sunlight. The second hit the black wolf, and it disintegrated into a thousand points of starlight.
And Logan dove in front of the final string of the Mistress’s power.
It slammed into him. Light shrouded him, bathed him in a glow of warmth that combated all the cold. At once, the void he stood in exploded. A shock that slammed into him. Shook him until he could no longer keep his eyes open.
Just like Morgan had said. Logan fell. He seemed to fall out of the void and remain inside it simultaneously. Then Jayden grabbed his hand, and a tear fell into his palm. First it was warm and wet, as though his earthly body held it. And then it was crystal and light. It had crossed through the door with him.
One moment he could hear them from both realms. And then, he could only hear them in one. As he breathed his last, he looked up into Rebekah’s eyes. He’d saved her. Saved them. Now it was up to them to save the world.
Chapter 53
Sacrifice
Serena’s head jerked up as the sky shook. “Did you feel that?”
Connor’s chest heaved, and he morphed into a man. It was as though he could no longer hold his wolf form. “Someone else died.”
“What?” Serena’s heart stalled.
“Someone—when I used my powers—someone died.”
No wonder he was still so weak. Serena’s heart ripped in two. “I have to go make sure it’s not one of them!”
“Go. I’ll stay with him.” Quinn touched Connor’s shoulder and handed him his clothes.
Serena whirled around to see Dash running toward her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I need to find the others.” She mounted Dash, and a scream—Jayden’s—stopped her cold. Ice seemed to blow over her like the explosion that rocked the world. Dash ran faster. “I felt it. Did you?”
“I did. But there was no pain. Only loss.” Something inside her chest crumbled. That meant it was too late. Dash brought her to the edge of camp. Rebekah, Jayden, Ethan, Ryan, Westwind, and Aurora all huddled around someone, and Serena’s stomach filled with ice. She slid from Dash’s back.
Jayden looked over her shoulder to see Serena approaching. Why wouldn’t she run? “Hurry! Help us!” Her heart clutched.
Rebekah fell to her knees. “She can’t. He’s . . .”
“No! He’s not!” He couldn’t be. Tears blurred Jayden’s vision.
Serena knelt beside Logan’s still form, and Jayden felt the sob claw up through her core. Serena filled her lungs. “There’s no soul here to heal.”
“You have to heal him.” Ethan gripped her arms. “You said you could go back.”
“Go back?” Jayden faced Serena as simultaneous hope and dread pulled within her.
Serena looked into Ethan’s red-rimmed eyes and let out a sob. “Once. A Healer can only bring someone back from the dead once, Ethan.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t understand. Sorrow spread through him in a wave and crashed into Jayden’s own sadness.
Serena touched Ethan’s arm. “I can’t go back for him in case one of you . . .”
Ethan ripped his arm from her touch. “If you can save him, do it!”
Jayden flinched. Then she touched Ethan’s back but turned to Serena. “At what cost?”
“It doesn’t matter now. This is a power I must save for defeating the Mistress. That’s what it’s for. Don’t you understand?” Her eyes pleaded.
Rebekah wiped away her tears. “Ethan.” She touched his shoulder, and he hunched over, shaking. “He did it to kill the barghest. The Mistress sent it here to bring you to her.” She looked at Jayden, and the sorrow mingled with so much love it hurt to breathe. “Don’t let this divide you.” She looked into Serena’s eyes. “I understand,” she said. “You have to defeat her or we all die. Logan . . . understood.”
Something strong tugged Jayden’s sleeve. She turned to Westwind and touched his soft, thick fur. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He nudged her belt knife.
“What is it?”
He nudged the tip and thrust up, trying to remove the weapon. Then he placed his paw on her hand.
“An oath,” she whispered.
Rebekah smiled sadly. “You always could understand him well. He wants you to promise that you’ll let him protect you.”
“Oh, Westwind. Of course I will. I don’t need—”
He punched the knife with his muzzle. She took it out and cut her palm. Then he ran his paw over the blade and placed it over her hand.
Then he faced Jayden, and Rebekah spoke for him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “He wants you to promise you’ll help him put the Mistress away forever.”
“I will.”
He sliced his paw a second time, and she repeated the gesture. Then he sat in front of her. His expressive golden eyes speared Jayden’s heart. Sadness rolled off of him. And love. And determination. She just wanted to hug him.
He nodded and cut his paw a third time.
“One more.” Rebekah’s voice wavered and she wiped away tears. Rebekah’s voice grew thick. “He wants you to promise you’ll . . . you’ll . . . never forget Logan.”
New tears stung Jayden’s eyes. “Of course,” she whispered.
Jayden sliced her hand again. Westwind placed his bloody paw in her palm. “He loved you like a daughter. I know the time for mourning is at hand, but so is the time for war. We keep fighting, we keep going. He did this so you could win. So you would never stop trying. You understand.”
Jayden sucked in a breath and stared into Westwind’s eyes. “I can hear you.”
Westwind pressed his head into her. “You’ve always heard me.”
She hugged him close. Buried her face in his fur. And rain fell from the heavens. Drenched them all.
“Build a pyre,” Rebekah whispered. “We give him a hero’s farewell. We’ll need fire.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Ryan said.
No lightning. No thunder. Only rain. Deep, soaking rain. Just like Jayden felt.
Zephyr and Cliffdiver dried the wood, and Blaze set it on fire.
And a piece of Jayden died, then ignited. They sang the Creator’s song, and it meant more to her now than ever before. Ethan held her while they sang. And she grabbed Serena’s hand and touched Ryan’s shoulder. He even allowed Serena to touch him. And as soon as she did, the storm intensified. Filled Jayden to the brim. Ethan kept the fire from getting wet from Jayden’s rain with his shield of wind.
Jayden tipped her head up, letting the rain splash on her face. “We’re stronger when we’re touching.”
“I feel that, too,” Serena said.
Ethan tightened his grip around Jayden. “Logan’s right, we need to stick together.”
“No matter what.” Jayden look
ed at the others. They all nodded.
“No matter what,” Ryan echoed.
Something in the air changed, fought against Jayden’s drenching rain. Ethan gripped her hand. Fear shot through him.
“What’s wrong?”
Stormcloud bucked. “This isn’t normal.”
Wind whipped Jayden’s hair, and she stared at Ethan. “It’s coming fast. Like a—a tornado.”
Darkness tainted it. Fed it. And Jayden’s skin prickled. “Ethan, she knows where we are.”
“I feel it,” Ethan said. “It’s the Mistress. She’s reaching for us.”
“That storm is hers.”
The storm surged. Dark and angry. Twigs and branches scraped her face. Zephyr stood in front of them and buffeted the wind.
Ethan gripped Jayden’s shoulders and pushed her into Zephyr’s feathered chest. Lightning crackled and struck a nearby tree. Bark exploded off the trunk, and the wind picked it up. Swirled it around. Ethan’s frantic eyes met hers. “It’s too strong. I can’t shield everyone. Hold on.”
Her heart pumped as she tried to listen to the storm. Anger pulsed from it. Hatred so deep and dark the clouds couldn’t contain it. The sky couldn’t contain it. “Stormcloud?”
“I feel it. It’s angry. Unnatural. The others are flying. Tell them to follow me to dodge the lightning.”
Zephyr lifted them into the sky. Ethan sat behind her and pressed her tight against Zephyr’s neck. She clutched the gryphon, feeling Ethan’s frantic breathing against her back. What about the others?
The storm dragged them in, hard and fast, and Jayden lost her breath. Dark, windy, filled with dirt and debris that cut into them.
Ethan clutched her, his arms tight around her. “I won’t let you go. I—” He paused. His fear pierced her heart.
She looked over her shoulder. “You feel a threat? Ethan, what is it?”
He wouldn’t answer. Could he hear her over the storm? He braced himself against her, pressing her deeper into the feathers, his body a protective outer shell. Was he using his shield? What was he saving her from? She wanted to scream, make him tell her. Then she felt it. Lightning was headed at them. Would his shield be strong enough?
He looked right into her eyes. “I love you.”
What? No. His face bore the same look her brother Daniel had right before he’d died for her. She grabbed his hand. “Ethan, don’t do this!”
He smashed into her with such force that she slammed into Zephyr and saw nothing but darkness.
Chapter 54
Mutual Trust
Connor opened his eyes and stood. Quinn’s body lay beneath him on the red soil, the burnt orange color of the dirt covered her clothes and face. And dark, wet red spilled out from beneath her in a puddle.
“Quinn?”
She didn’t stir.
What had happened? Memories flooded back to him. The Mistress had sent a storm. He’d felt her power in the wind, and it had ripped them all away from one another. Just like she wanted. Everything in him should have told him to protect the Deliverers, but he’d just used up his power to defeat the bulls. He’d been too weak.
Instead, who had he chosen to rescue? Quinn. He’d held her tight, protecting her from the storm, while Cliffdiver wrapped his claws around both of them.
He touched Quinn’s forehead and moved hair out of her face. A red scrape marred her forehead and she felt warm. His heart told him finding the Deliverers could wait. His head chastised his heart. Harshly. “Cliffdiver?”
The gryphon groaned. “I’m here. Behind you. Is she hurt badly?”
Connor faced his friend. Red caked Cliffdiver’s feathers in more than one place. “You are.”
“I’ll heal.”
Connor stared at his friend. “You—”
“I’ll be fine. How’s the girl?”
Connor leaned over her and touched her shoulder. “Quinn?” Something had torn into her leg. The gash trailed from her calf to mid-thigh.
She sucked in air and opened her eyes. As soon as she saw him, she tried to scurry away, but stopped and grimaced as she touched her leg.
He held up his hand to calm her. “It’s all right. It’s just me.”
She scanned her surroundings. “What happened?”
Connor’s chest heaved. “Do you remember the storm?”
“Oh. Yes.” She looked up at him and her eyes grew wide.
Connor winced. He had an idea of what she was thinking. And he didn’t feel like dwelling on that right now—how he’d fallen for the Mistress’s distraction and nearly killed Quinn and Serena while trying to save them. And then he’d been completely helpless to fight the Mistress . . . no use dwelling on that. “We’ll have to clean that wound. Can you stand?”
She propped herself onto her elbow, moved the material over the wound aside, and breathed in through her teeth.
It looked deep. Connor’s stomach clenched. “Let me get something to help you.”
What did he have? Only the water strapped to his belt. And his not-exactly-clean shirt. But she was a Whisperer. “If I pour water onto the ground, can you make it grow?”
Her eyelashes fluttered. “I can try.”
He unstrapped his waterskin and poured a few drips onto the dry, cracked ground. The red dirt leeched up the moisture before she had a chance to do anything. Not very promising.
“Again.” Her hazel eyes bored into him.
He poured some into a tiny divot and she closed her eyes. Laid her head back.
“Quinn.” Oh no. He’d asked too much of her. She had to be weak from blood loss. “Hang on. I’m going to take care of you.” He just didn’t know how.
Something cool and wet lapped against his knee. Water. A whole pool stretched out over the once-cracked dirt. Connor expelled a gasp. This was much more than he’d imagined her capable of. “Quinn, that’s incredible! You did it.” He looked down at her still form.
A small smile curved her lips, but she didn’t open her eyes. “I didn’t know I could do that. It feels so . . . amazing.” Her eyes opened and she looked up at him.
She was amazing. He knelt beside her and rubbed his hand over her cheek. “You certainly gave me a start.”
“Sorry.”
He removed his shirt and ripped the sleeve off, accidentally tearing the shirt in the process. Then he placed it in the water. Clear and cool. Pure. Like Quinn. He scrubbed it the best he could and wrung it out. Then he turned to her. “This will sting.”
She nodded and closed her eyes again.
The whole time he cleaned and bound her wound—which was harder with one hand—she remained silent. Only her slight winces told him she remained conscious. At last he finished. “Sorry I don’t have anything to stitch you up with. It’ll leave a pretty big scar, I’m afraid.”
Finally she opened her eyes and tried to sit up. He wrapped his arm around her back and helped her. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him, arm draped over his bare shoulders.
She seemed very aware of his closeness, and terrified by it. After what she’d seen him do to the land—demolishing the bulls—it didn’t surprise him. “We should probably get out of the open. Can you stand?” Then again, there was nothing for cover here. Except the dead tree Cliffdiver lay beside. He helped her stand. Her warmth pressed into his side, and he felt every shuddering breath she took.
Heat.
Skin.
Heat.
Fur.
He stilled the shift and was surprised when he melted comfortably into his human skin. Perhaps her touch didn’t make him shift; maybe it just . . . connected to him on both his wolf and human levels.
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I was hoping you could . . .” His hope died as he looked around for any trees for her to communicate with to try and find the others. Find out if they were okay. Find out where they were and how far everyone was from the thrones.
There was nothing for miles—just cracked orange dirt, a dried-up riverbed,
and the dead tree he was taking her to lean against.
“There.” Quinn pointed to a clump of brown that seemed to ripple over the dry, flat landscape. “Take me to that bush, and I’ll find out where we are. Maybe I can get a location on the others, too.”
“I don’t know if it’s alive.”
“I feel its heartbeat.”
“Don’t make her walk so far on that leg. I’ll carry her.” Cliffdiver approached and lay down, making it easier for Connor to lift Quinn onto the gryphon’s back. But Connor looked at the huge gash in Cliffdiver’s shoulder and refused. “No, friend. You rest. I’ll carry her. And then you’ll let me tend to your wounds.”
Quinn touched Cliffdiver’s feathered neck. “You’re hurt. Maybe I can find a way to help speed up your healing.”
Cliffdiver’s eyes squinted in what looked like a smile. “I like this one. Tell her thank you, but gryphons heal fast.”
Connor relayed the message and added, “But he’s not carrying you. I will.”
Quinn winced as his severed arm slid behind her knees and bent her legs.
He regarded her expression. “You okay?”
“You aren’t wearing a shirt.” Her skin flushed.
She didn’t have to remind him. He scrunched up one side of his face. “I ripped it.” That made her laugh.
“You don’t need to carry me, I—”
“Too late.” He smiled.
Her eyes widened and a pang hit his heart. Poor Quinn. Stuck with the one person who scared her senseless.
They made it to the withered bush, and Connor gently set Quinn down beside it.
She released her hold on him and scooched close enough to touch the bush. Cracked, brown wood nearly the color of Connor’s wolf coat made up the plant’s thick, gnarled stump. “It’s old,” Quinn said. “That’s good for a long memory.” Then she closed her eyes.
Connor tended to Cliffdiver’s wounds as he waited. “This is deep, friend.”
“I’ll be fit to travel by morning. Will she?”
Connor glanced over his shoulder at Quinn. Watched while a breeze he wished he could feel tousled strands of her hair like maypole streamers in the wind. All he could do now was hope that this dying bush could help them find the Deliverers and the Forest of Legends fast. Because answers or not, he needed to get out of here by morning.