“She asked me to be your Gatherer.” Tempest sighs. “I know this will sound barking mad. Just hear me out.” Tempest scrubs his palms over his face. “Verus said that you and I can save the Firmament. However, we have to do it in a very specific way. I must become your Gatherer. And the two of us must complete the quest alone.”
A chill moves across my skin. Alone? Alden’s the only one who knows what to do. “Anything else?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Best for last, luv. Before we open the final seedpod, we must go to Furonium. There’s a special room that you need to visit. And you must wear a formal dress. Those are her instructions.”
“Wow.” Ball gowns. Special rooms. Oracle angels. Tempest doesn’t look unbalanced, but that’s a whole lot of crazy. And I have the after-realms to save. There’s no room for distractions.
Alden pops out from behind the trees. “Well, now. Ready to go?”
My gaze shifts between the two men. It kills me to say this, but I have to put my responsibilities first. “Yes, I’m ready. Thanks for everything, Tempest. I think it’s best if I go with Alden.”
Tempest’s gaze turns pleading. “Don’t do this, Portia.”
My heart clenches. This feels wrong. I remember Tempest carrying me away from the ruined Hearth. His presence calms me. It’s like we’ve known each other for years. That doesn’t make any sense. Still, it doesn’t make the reality of the feeling any less. I press my palms against my eyes, like I can squeeze a good decision out of my head. “This is so hard.”
“That’s enough,” says Alden. “We’re done wasting time.” He lunges forward, grips my wrist, and whispers a quick incantation. The world around me disappears.
Chapter Nine
The next thing I know, I stand in a darkened graveyard. The ground is covered with tombstones and fog. Shock and anger pulse through every nerve ending in my body. I did not say it was okay to take me here.
Alden stands a few feet away, his complexion pale with worry. “Sorry about that transfer spell. We couldn’t waste any more time.”
“Waste time?” My voice drips with anger. “You kidnapped me, Alden.”
His voice quivers with regret. “I’m so sorry. I just needed to get us started.”
Every inch of this guy looks miserable. My heart softens a little. It’s not okay to go around kidnapping people. Although with so much on the line, I suppose that anyone can lose it. And all Alden’s really wanted to do is start the quest.
I scan the rolling countryside. “Why did you bring me here? Is this where the first seedpod is?”
“No, there’s something else we need to do. Every quest starts off with a small ceremony at this graveyard.”
I shake my head. Quest ceremonies and abductions? Really? Alden’s acting just as crazy as Tempest. “What’s this ceremony for, exactly?”
“It’s for you, Portia. I’ll give you some magical energy and help you get started on your way. It’s for your own safety.”
“You’ll give me magical energy?” My eyes narrow with suspicion. “I thought you said you were drained after your quest.”
Alden sighs. “I’ve got a little in reserve, just in case. I know you’re angry with me, but we need the ceremony. You need that energy. I don’t trust your Gatherer. What is he, your ex-boyfriend?”
“No, I hardly know him.” Even as the words leave my lips, I know that’s a lie. Something about Tempest has always felt familiar.
“Well, whoever he is, he won’t be at the ceremony.”
A low roar breaks the quiet. My pulse kicks up speed. That sounds a lot like a dragon. “You might be wrong on that one.”
“What?” The roar sounds again. “Is that the guy?”
“It’s a safe bet.”
“And he’s a damned dragon? How could he follow us? I thought most of them didn’t know magic.”
In a weird way, I’m glad that Alden is quite possibly the only other person in the after-realms who doesn’t know who Tempest is. “He’s a wizard.”
“Must be a pretty good one, if he can track my spells.”
“He’s the Emperor of the Furor. Greater demons have all sorts of abilities.”
“What?” Alden’s blue eyes stretch wide with alarm. “Damn!” He grabs my sleeve and starts dragging me into the mist. “We’ve got to hustle.”
I pull my coat free. “Not until you tell me what this ceremony is about.”
Alden’s mouth trembles. “Millions of people are depending on us. You can’t second-guess every little thing I do. Have you forgotten? I finished my quest. I had a Gatherer train me for it, too. You need to get with the program, and that means holding this ceremony. Am I making myself clear?”
Cold fingers of dread creep down my spine. The longer I spend with this guy, the higher the creep factor gets. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A breeze kicks up around us, clearing away the mist. A dark shape blocks out the sky. It’s a dragon with a sleek, black body, stout legs, broad chest, and a tail that’s lined with spikes. There’s no mistaking the sharp features, large eyes, and long scar by the jawline. Excitement and relief battle it out inside my chest.
Tempest is here.
He came for me. Sure, both Tempest and Alden have some crazy ideas. But one of them abducted me while the other flew to my rescue. As choices go, this one’s looking pretty clear. I’m flying away with the dragon.
“You’re leaving with him, aren’t you?” Alden’s shoulders slump. “Don’t go. You need that ceremony, Portia. You need me.”
Do I?
The weight of the decision presses in around me. Alden says I need his help and this ceremony. Tempest tells me to follow the guidance of Verus, even though her plan sounds insane. I turn over both directions in my mind. Two facts become clear. First, Verus and her prophecies have crossed paths with my family before. She’s always been right. And second, going with Alden feels too easy. I don’t have the kind of life where someone swoops in and fixes everything perfectly. No, I’m the girl who gets the mysterious angel and oddball plan.
Alden grips his hands together tightly. “You have to give me another chance. I’m your best bet to live through this. Hell, I’m the best bet for everyone. Please don’t go. For all of us.”
I straighten my shoulders. “Thank you for your offer. My mind is made.” Turning on my heel, I walk toward Tempest at double-speed.
Tempest ruffles his wings and shoots me a crooked smile. A sense of rightness settles into my soul. My decision is made, once and for all. I climb up Tempest’s foreleg and swing onto his shoulders. “Hi, Tempest.”
“You okay, Portia? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine.” Alden keeps staring at me. Every line of his body seems to droop with sorrow. “Let’s go.”
Tempest beats his wings in a regular rhythm. We rise into the clouds. I run my fingers over his scales. They’re warm and leathery to the touch. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“I’ll always come for you, Portia.”
My heart stutters in my chest. It’s like I’m on the balcony again. My feelings for Tempest are too strong for me to sort through right now. The after-realms are more important. I slip the wicker sphere from the pocket of my duster.
Time to get my mind back into saving the after-realms.
I set the wicker sphere onto my palm. “Show me where to go first.”
The thin lines reform in the shape of a twisted iron gate. I smile with recognition and relief.
“What’d you see?” asks Tempest.
“The Onyx Gates.”
“We’re off to Heaven, then.” He angles his body in a new direction and pumps his wings with more speed. Every beat of his wings brings me closer to the first seedpod. Will Tempest and I be able to open this thing on our own? A shiver of fear twists down my spine. Did I make the right decision to turn Alden down?
I certainly hope so. The after-realms are depending on it.
Chapter Ten
Tempest and I stand before
a set of towering black gates made from intricately twisted iron. The whole thing looks hopelessly run down and rusted. My forehead creases with worry. Something here feels off.
“Are you sure these are the Onyx Gates?” I ask. All around us, I can only see waist-deep clouds in every direction. Overhead, the sky’s a single sheet of white light. “Pops has taken me to Heaven before. It was all white towers, crystal walls, and blue skies.”
“It’s like this, luv,” says Tempest. “There are the nice bits in Hell, like Furonium, and then, there are the dodgy spots in Heaven.” He nods toward the gates. “Like this right here.”
Odd shadows shift in the clouds around our feet. This whole place gives me the creeps. “Have you ever been inside?”
“No, but I’ve heard about it. The gates enclose a dream catcher.”
My lips form a silent ‘o.’ I’ve read about places like this. Dreams get stuck in here. Nightmares, too.
He shoots me a wry smile. “Once we cross the Onyx gates, it won’t take long for our old nightmares to find us.”
I set the sphere onto my palms. The threads of wicker weave into the words ‘The Library floor.’ “I guess we need to find The Library, whatever that means.”
The gates open with a long creak. Tempest and I step past the threshold and into the realm of a dream catcher. A red door appears in the mist. I look around. There’s nothing but cloud for miles in every direction. We open the door and step inside.
It leads us to my bedroom in Purgatory. Another version of me—a dream-self—lies asleep in bed, tossing under the crisp, white sheets. A chill crawls over my skin.
Something is wrong here. Very wrong.
Leave this place now, Portia.
Turning on my heel, I look for the exit. There isn’t one anymore. I check out the walls and pull back the curtains. All the windows and exits have disappeared. I bang the plaster with the palm of my hand. “Open up!”
Meanwhile, my dream-self twists from side to side, still trapped in her sleep.
I round on Tempest, my heart thudding so hard I can feel its beat in my throat. “I have to get out of here!”
Tempest steps to stand before me. He keeps his hands at waist level, palms forward, as if I’m a wild animal that could bolt any second.
“It doesn’t work that way in a dream catcher. You know this, luv.”
I force myself to inhale a few calming breaths. Think, Portia. Tempest is right.
“Right,” I say, forcing my breaths to slow. “We have to wait.”
“That’s correct.” Tempest gestures toward my dream-self. “And don’t talk to her unless you have to. We’ll both watch for a new door to open.”
My dream-self thrashes harder under the sheets. Icy fear twists through my stomach.
Danger, Portia. Run!
“I don’t like this, Tempest.”
“Have you dreamt this scene before?”
“Not that I remember.”
All of a sudden, my dream-self sits bolt upright in bed. She clutches her elbows as her shoulders tremble.
“Who’s there?” she asks.
“It’s just me,” I say. “Portia. You’re asleep.”
Bit by bit, my dream-self turns toward me. When I see her, alarm rattles up my spine. Her eyes are a gooey shade of black. Dark tears ooze down her trembling face. I know that transformation. Every cell in my body goes on alert. Now, I know what’s happening in this nightmare.
I’m turning into the Void. My limbs shudder with fear.
My dream-self reaches forward blindly. “Whoever you are, I can’t see you. What’s happening?” She reaches forward, her fingertips groping the empty air. The nails slowly darken with ooze. As my dream-self moans in horror, her body mutates into more blackened sludge. She tries to pull herself out of the bed, but her gooey legs won’t carry her weight. Instead, she tumbles onto the floor, weeping in terror.
I rush to kneel by her side. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s only a dream.” I pat her quickly blackening hair. My fingertips come away covered in foul ooze. “I won’t let this happen to you.”
In reply, my dream-self curls onto her side and wails. “I’m doomed to turn into a demon. There’s no avoiding that fate when you’re Marked.”
My eyes sting with tears as my voice grows louder. “I’m fighting this. We’re fighting this. You’re not turning into the Void. None of this is real.”
But even as the words leave my lips, I know that it’s all a lie. There’s no guarantee I can save the after-realms, let alone myself.
Before me, my dream-self gasps for breath. Her lips and teeth blacken as air gurgles thickly in her chest. I stare into her dark eyes as her body splatters into the floor and disappears like a raindrop striking the pavement.
It happened. Maybe it was only a dream; it took place all the same. I saw myself transform into a Void demon.
Sitting back, I stare at my hands. Dark ooze is still there, slowly seeping into my skin. Maybe it’s always been part of me. One day, it will fully claim my soul and I’ll become a nameless, mindless demon gnawing on the Firmament; that is, if there’s any left to consume. I’ll never get out of this alive. Who am I to think I can help the after-realms when I can’t save myself?
Tempest kneels beside me. He tentatively extends his hand toward me. I know he what he wants, and part of me wants to hold his hand, too.
The ache in my chest intensifies, but this is all too much, too soon. Besides, I don’t even know why he cares about me or this quest. I give him the barest shake of my head.
No, don’t come any nearer.
Tempest nods and lowers his hands. His demeanor mixes patience with concern. “You all right, luv? Talk to me.”
When I speak, my voice cracks with despair. “Many people get Marked, and none of them get free. Even if I save the after-realms, chances are, I’ll still change into a demon. Why am I bothering to fight this?”
Tempest leans in closer. “Listen to me carefully,” he says. “The world is filled with people who tell you things are impossible and to give up. But that’s only because they’ve already given up on themselves. Now, I don’t know what the future holds. I do know that you’re brilliant, Portia.”
Our gazes lock. Somehow, his mouth moved until it’s only inches away from mine. I want to run my fingers along the square line of his jaw, run my palm across the scruff of his cheek. I want to touch his bare skin. A sense of excitement fills the air. Something else is there as well. There’s that same patience that I first felt when meeting Tempest on the balcony. He’s waiting for me to make the first move.
Maybe I will. Chances are, I’m just acting crazy by trying to stop whatever it is that’s happening between us.
I start to move my hand forward when a loud wail echoes through the walls of my dream-penthouse. At first, I think it might be my dream-self again. I shake my head. It can’t be me. That’s a young boy screaming. Tempest’s mouth thins to an angry line.
“Do you know who that is?” I ask.
“I do.”
My pulse beats at double-speed. “What does it mean?” Please, don’t let it mean that I have to confront another version of myself transforming into the Void. Not sure I can handle that right now.
“That it’s my turn.”
The wail sounds once more. Muscles twitch along Tempest’s jaw. Heat and rage pour off his body. Turning, Tempest looks over his shoulder. Where a smooth stretch of wall once stood, there’s now a heavy iron door set into the plasterboard. Dragon runes have been roughly carved into the metal surface. I can translate them easily. They say one simple word: Dungeon.
Tempest stands. “Wait here. I’ll take care of this.”
“Not a chance. I’m going with you.”
“This is the dungeon where my father held me as a child. You know the story?”
I nod. “Maxon told me.”
“This dream is a familiar one,” continues Tempest. “Chimera will be in the dungeon with me as a lad. I’m never able t
o fight.” A low growl sounds in his voice as he adds, “That won’t happen this time. I’ll fight him.”
I rise to stand beside him. “Good.”
Tempest scans me carefully. “So, what are you saying?”
“If anyone tries to hurt you, then I want a piece of them, too.”
“You sound protective, Portia.” A low growl sounds in Tempest’s chest. I like that growl. In fact, I like it way too much for my own good.
My cheeks flush red. “That’s what friends do for each other, right? We have each other’s backs.”
“Right.” He keeps staring at me with such intensity, it’s like I’m the center of the universe. For someone like me, this much attention is intoxicating.
Time to move on.
I gesture toward the door. “Lead the way.”
Stepping forward, Tempest grips the door’s heavy iron handle and hauls on it with all his strength. Little by little, the door swings open, revealing a long and low hallway made of rough gray stone. More iron doors line the walls on either side, separated by burnt-down torches.
As Tempest and I step down the long passageway, grimy hands grasp at the small barred openings atop each metal door. Desperate voices plead for water, mercy, and even death. The stench of decay and sick assaults my senses.
“Follow me,” murmurs Tempest. “Last cell on the right.”
It takes only a few minutes to reach the last cell. The journey seems to last much longer. The suffering and stench of this dungeon is beyond anything I could have imagined. Nausea twists through my stomach.
We step through the prison door to enter Tempest’s old cell.
Like in the dream of my penthouse bedroom, the prison cell door disappears the moment we pass through it. Once we’re inside Tempest’s old dungeon, we’re trapped with no way to escape. And when I look around the cell, escape seems like a good idea.
A scrawny teenage boy cowers on the grimy stone floor. He’s curled up onto his side, his eyes staring forward, unblinking. His skin is mottled with angry red marks. I’ve seen those before in medical books. They’re acid burns.
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