Sever (The Ever Series Book 3)

by C. J. Valles

  “I let you go once. I can’t do it again, Wren.”

  At the sound of Ever’s voice behind me, I turn slowly and look up at him. Audra hadn’t been exaggerating. She was only able to delay him until literally the stroke of midnight. I wonder briefly what it took for her to distract him. When he holds out his hand, I take a single step in his direction.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly, focusing every bit of energy on Alex so that Ever won’t be able to access my thoughts.

  Then I launch myself backward, feeling as the blackness in the mirror takes me. Suddenly I’m weightless. I see swirls of color, a faint, glowing green that fades into purple. A swirl of orange. Then pain. Searing, terrible pain burns me everywhere even though I can’t move my limbs. When I fight against the inertia, the coldness sears even deeper.

  Then, nothing. I see, I feel, I hear nothing. I am lost. Hours or days or weeks seem to pass.

  Suddenly a frantic voice whispers my name. At least I think it’s my name. With a tortured gasp, I blink. I can see! Sort of. My surroundings are bright, shimmering. And the ground beneath me is soft and glowing with unnatural brightness. Everything is glowing. I can’t identify a color, because it’s every color and no color, always changing like the iridescent metal of the blades that Ever and Alex carried. Instinctively I reach for the blade I brought with me.

  “I mean you no harm!” the voice whispers lyrically.

  I flinch and look around, trying to find the source of the voice. Then I remember Audra’s instructions.

  … you will see our world through human eyes. There will be one waiting to help you navigate the journey.

  “I can’t see you,” I whisper.

  I jump when a small hand touches mine. See our world through human eyes, I repeat in my head. I concentrate harder, and things around me begin to take on familiar shapes. There’s grass beneath me—but its hue is unnatural and shimmering. A swath of trees. And far off in the distance, there’s a beautiful incandescent waterfall spilling over cliffs into an aquamarine river. The sky above is bluer than I ever could have imagined. Then I look down at the hand tugging mine and see a small girl. I blink. She can’t be more than twelve years old. Her long hair is coal-black and her eyes a glowing purple color, contrasting with her pale skin. She’s wearing a flowing, metallic-colored dress.

  And I realize she’s looking at me the same way I’m looking at her. What do I look like to her? I glance down … Oh no. No, no, no. I had been worried about pink shorts. Instead, I’m wearing my Wren Sullivan, demon-hunter outfit. This is how my brain chose to represent me in Ever’s world?

  Fan-freaking-tastic.

  The girl pulls me up with surprising strength just as the ground begins shaking. An earthquake? Then suddenly I feel a familiar darkness as a memory emerges from the very first moment I looked into Ever’s eyes. The “sky” above immediately turns black, and the “air” I’m breathing becomes thick with menace. The “grass” beneath my feet instantly withers to a dull brown as the child at my side begins tugging me toward the river in the distance. The trees around us suddenly appear to be rotting, with sharp branches extending toward us.

  All I can think is: we’ll never make it. But we’re moving faster than humanly possible, and I have to remind myself that I’m not in the human world. I push myself harder, and an instant later we’re at the edge of the river.

  I don’t feel any exertion at all, which means that my physical form in this dimension most likely is a mirage, a construct of my imagination. Everything about this place is how my imagination sees it. Before I know what’s happening, my tiny traveling companion shoves me off the ground toward the water below. I fall for what seems like longer than the time it took us to run to the edge of the water, and when I hit the surface, it feels like gelatinous goo, not water. I look around, and the girl is beside me, bobbing in the aquamarine sludge. She gestures toward the cliffs above us, and that’s when I see that we just fell a distance at least the height of a skyscraper.

  At the very top of the cliffs, I see what was chasing us. Black fur, glowing red eyes, gleaming white teeth, claws like blades. I can feel it, too. The gnawing hunger, the blind fury, the ache to destroy anything in its path.

  “What is it?” I whisper.

  The girl floating next to me says something, but it’s unintelligible. Then I realize there must be no translation for whatever it is. Looking down, I realize we’re moving in the aquamarine muck, but I can’t tell how. I almost expect to wake up, but this can’t be a dream—I never could have imagined the strangeness that is this world.

  “Who are you?” I ask, hoping I’ll be able to understand her answer.

  “Aimee,” she smiles.

  I frown.

  “Wait. Where did you learn to talk like we do in my world?”

  “I watch you,” she smiles.

  When she says this like my world is a TV show, I remember what Alistair told me last year. Ghosts, things that go bump in the night, scary monsters—they’re all just echoes of beings from other dimensions. Suddenly I understand. My mind has turned Ever’s world into one big fairy tale. Aimee is Little Red Riding Hood. The monster that chased us is The Big Bad Wolf. Which means I’m in some bizarre cross between Alice’s Wonderland and Peter Pan’s Neverland—where everything is strange, and no one grows old.

  “Where did you get your name?” I ask carefully.

  “Audra gave it to me. A name from your world,” she smiles.

  I frown. How long has Audra been talking to this girl, and what has she told her? When the sky begins to brighten into a pinkish color, Aimee pulls me toward the “shore.”

  “Aimee?” I ask as I step onto the powdered sugar-like sand of the bank. “How long have you been here?”

  Now she’s the one frowning.

  “How long?”

  I shake my head. Time means nothing. Those were the first words I heard in Ever’s mind, which means that this girl may not have any concept of time, the same way I can only see her world through my eyes. I study a palm tree, electrically bright, a few feet away and wonder what it “really” looks like. While I’m trying to get my bearings, Aimee sits down in the sand and looks off into the distance.

  “Aimee? Please. I have to hurry.”

  “Hurry?” she repeats.

  The White Rabbit’s “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!” chant from Alice in Wonderland echoes in my mind. Time impacts everything for me, but to Ever and those like him, time is fluid and meaningless in this world.

  “It’s very important for me to find someone,” I explain patiently, hoping she can understand how critical this is.

  Aimee smiles again.

  “Yes, the traitor. Audra told me.”

  “The traitor? That’s what she calls him?”

  Aimee nods and smiles.

  “Do you know where he is?” I ask desperately.

  “He is here.”

  I wait for her to explain, but she seems to think this is the only explanation I need.

  “He’s here?” I look around. “Now?”

  When she gives me another blank look, I shake my head and plop down next to her. Now. Forever. Never. Soon. Late. When. None of these concepts are going to help me here. Looking out into the distance, I watch as the color of the water changes to a deep purple. Is it nightfall here? I wonder to myself.

  There are thousands of questions I want to ask the young girl next to me, but I’m afraid I’ll only be met with the same look of bemused curiosity. I close my eyes and try to keep the guilt from consuming me as I imagine the look on Ever’s face the moment I launched myself into the mirror’s blackness.

  When Aimee jumps up with childlike glee, I look around for any sign of Alex. Following her to the edge of the water, I look down. Instead of my reflection, I see a young girl’s bedroom reflected below. Suddenly a human girl wearing pajamas appears. She would be around Aimee’s age, if Aimee were a human. The girl smiles and waves at Aimee.

  “Aimee!
” I whisper. She looks up at me. “Who is she?”

  “My friend Madison,” Aimee says back.

  When they start giggling and talking, I suddenly feel like I’m babysitting. Then the water ripples, and I see Audra.

  “I don’t have much time. Once you find him, come—”

  Audra’s image disappears, and Aimee frowns at me.

  “Why does Audra not have time?” she asks, returning to her spot on the bank.

  I shake my head. Clearly Aimee understands some aspects of human reality. Time, though—not so much.

  “Aimee, I need to find him. Can you tell me where the traitor is?”

  She points into the distance, and suddenly I see a vast ocean of what looks like fog. Rising out of it is a shimmering palace of glass. I shiver as I imagine paying the ferryman to cross the river Styx.

  “Can we go there?” I ask desperately.

  Aimee shakes her head when I look down at her.

  “It comes to us,” she says.

  “What is that place?”

  Her smile fades.

  “It is pain.”

  Seeing the emptiness in her eyes, I feel a chill deep down.

  17: Dragon Princess

  The weight of my decision—of all my decisions since I first saw Ever—comes crashing down on me. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m in another world, in a reality I will never understand, searching for someone I loved in another lifetime. When I start crying, Aimee, who’s sitting on the bank next to me, looks over at me with a curious expression. Apparently having a very human meltdown is new to her, too.

  “Are you hurt?”

  I shake my head.

  “Sad?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I mumble.

  “You’ve come for the traitor,” she says, her tone cheerful.

  I smile helplessly.

  “Have you met him?” I ask.

  “He saved me from the palace. He is the one who brought me here.”

  “He … is?”

  She nods again.

  “He promised I would come with him.”

  “When?”

  I shake my head when she gives me another puzzled look. Then she turns, pointing excitedly. I flinch when I see the glass palace almost upon us. Before I can blink, it’s right in front of us.

  “If they sense you, they awaken,” Aimee whispers.

  Hearing the tremor of fear in her voice, I stand up. She’s already running—away from the palace and me.

  “I can take you no farther. I’m sorry!” she calls back.

  I nod—to myself. This is my responsibility, not anyone else’s. But as I look around, I see no indication of life. Aimee is long gone, and—apart from whatever was chasing us—I haven’t seen another living creature. There’s nothing here but a floating glass castle in a sea of mist. Aimee said Alex was coming to me, so I have to assume this is what she meant. I wait nervously for the castle to drift closer. It doesn’t.

  Then I feel a strange surge of energy. Something familiar. I follow the feeling—a memory maybe.

  Suddenly I feel Alex take my hand. His other hand slips around my waist, and when he pulls me in closer, my breath catches. I look up into his startlingly blue eyes, afraid to breathe or move. He pulls me closer, and his fingers brush my bottom lip. The pleasure jolts me back to my senses.

  He’s here! I can feel him.

  Walking toward the water, I tentatively test the surface. Holy … It isn’t water at all. It’s solid, but slick like ice. Taking a ragged breath, I bury my fears and cast myself out onto the ice, focusing all my energy on the connection with Alex. By the time I look up again, the castle appears as though it’s miles away.

  Things aren’t as they appear to be here, I remind myself. The second I have the thought, the gleaming, shimmering castle is towering above me. But there’s no way in, just like the fairy tale Rapunzel.

  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair …” I whisper to myself. “Come on, Wren. Find a way. It’s here; you’re just not looking the right way.”

  Then I see it. An entrance at the top of a far tower. I frown again. If my mind is creating my reality in this world, then I have to wonder why it’s making everything so freakishly difficult. Moving toward the castle, I almost expect a forest of thorns to appear straight out of Sleeping Beauty.

  Before I’ve even finished thinking it, a gnarled mass of thorns rises out of the ice, blocking my view of the castle. I let out a strangled cry. That is it! I’m so done with this place. I refuse to have one more thought that this twisted world can use against me.

  When a piece of gnarled blackness slices my arm, I reach down and draw my blade, slashing my way through the bramble. Thorns dig into my arms and legs, but as soon as I feel the pain, the wounds begin to heal. Fighting my way to the wall of impenetrable glass, I look up at its sheer face. Last year in Tierra del Fuego, when I asked Alex if we were going to climb a massive glacier—and he looked at me like I was crazy for even thinking it. Because, apparently, teleportation had been the more logical option

  I decide to test the bounds of this world’s reality. Looking up, I focus on the entrance and then gasp with shock and triumph when I find myself standing at the entrance to a glimmering palace. Every surface I look at shimmers like diamonds. As I take a step forward, I remember what Aimee told me.

  … if they sense you, they will awaken.

  Walling off my thoughts, I study my surroundings and begin to see forms emerge. They’re frozen like the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale—pair after pair of frozen eyes staring at me but not seeing. Shivering, I carefully guard my thoughts as I walk through a dazzling hall that’s been ripped straight out of the fairy tale. From my childhood, I remember in the animated classic my mom had played for me over and over that the prince had fought his way to the tower to rescue her.

  Only now the prince is … me. I’m the hero on a quest. Walking past frozen tableaus of what my brain assumes this world and its inhabitants look like, I feel like I’m taking a tour of a wax museum after hours.

  Alex, I think. Where are you?

  Then I feel a weight tugging me like gravity. Suddenly I’m falling again. I fall and fall before landing—upright and unhurt—in front of a large, transparent door. Looking up, I feel myself weaken when I see Alex’s unmoving form, his head bowed. His back is to me, and he’s suspended upright by invisible forces, the skin of his back marred with lacerations. I also see a perfect set of bite marks on his right shoulder. Pressing my hands against the transparent surface separating us, I push, hoping I’m not too late.

  Backing up, I get a running start before colliding with the surface. Apart from a searing pain in my shoulder, I achieve nothing. I study the door. There’s no handle, no lock—no way in. Raising the blade that I’ve kept lowered at my side, I plunge it into the clear surface. My weapon instantly sticks, and I can’t pull it back. Frowning, I decide to try another strategy.

  This time, I continue to push instead of pulling. With all my force, I jam the blade into the surface, and when my weapon pierces through to the other side, I feel it pulling me with it. Suddenly I’m standing on the other side, staring at Alex.

  Finally I see it—a blade, much like mine, straight through his back. For a few terrible seconds, I’m afraid. I’m afraid that, despite what Ever has told me, Alex actually is dead. My eyes sting. Then a blood-red tear hits the floor. Without thinking, I hurry toward Alex and pull the hilt of the blade from his flesh, watching as he falls to the ground. I drop the weapon and fall to my knees next to him. Brushing Alex’s forehead, I touch his unruly copper hair.

  “Alex? Can you hear me?” I whisper gently.

  His eyes open instantly, but the look on his face is filled with pure hatred and revulsion. Suddenly he’s standing over me, and that’s when I realize that the blade I just dropped is being held against my neck.

  “Does your cruelty know no bounds, highness?” he spits with venomous loathing.

  Alex doesn’t recog
nize me. I came here to save him, and now Alex is going to end my existence. I take a moment to appreciate the irony—that the one who saved me is going to be the one to kill me.

  “Alex?” I whisper. “Please.”

  I feel the knife cut deeper into my skin as his features cloud over in confusion. Closing my eyes, I wait for the end.

  “Wren?” he utters in disbelief.

  I open my eyes, but I can’t nod—or I’ll decapitate myself.

  “Yes,” I gasp, my voice barely audible.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “It’s not possible.”

  He’s not talking to me—he’s talking to himself. And he called me highness. Slowly I begin to understand that he might be totally and completely bonkers by now. Or, worse—he thinks that Victor’s crazy witch of a princess is imitating me.

  “Alex, do you remember that night in Tierra del Fuego? When I said I could love you … in another lifetime?”

  With tears streaming down my cheeks, I reach up slowly and touch his cheek, waiting for the blade to dig deeper into my neck. As I touch his cheek, some of the scars begin to fade and then disappear. Suddenly the blade drops from his hand, and he touches my lips with his thumb. For the first time in this dimension, I feel a spark of heat.

  “You’re here,” he whispers. “I’ve imagined it over and over, but … it’s you. You’re truly here.”

  I can’t tell if this is the best—or worst—news possible in his mind. Reaching out, he brushes the tears from my cheeks.

  “Ms. Sullivan, does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

  I laugh shakily.

  “No way. I’m never forgiving you.”

  My heart sinks as I say this. I told myself that all I wanted was closure, but right now, as he smiles in that wry smile that I both hated and loved so much, all I want is to kiss him.

  “I thought the prince was supposed to kiss the sleeping beauty to break the curse,” he says with a sly grin.