by Alyson Noel
And before I can respond, Auden is pulling me through the glimmering veil.
TWENTY-EIGHT
LITA
I glance over my shoulder, searching for Xotichl and Auden. Catching only a fleeting glimpse of them, before a surge of people intervene and they seem to vanish from sight.
Where are all these people going? This wasn’t part of the plan!
I look at Axel, wondering if he’s thinking the same thing as I am. But he just tightens his grip and pulls me past the shimmering veil where we pause long enough to get our bearings and confirm this is nothing at all like it was the last time I visited.
Whenever there’s a party at the Rabbit Hole, the Richters like to host their own private party within the party. It’s considered a big deal to get an invite, mostly because it’s all very cloak and dagger and shrouded in mystery. Involving things like blindfolds and cigarettes which, I later learned, were used to appease the demons guarding the entrance.
But now it’s nothing like that.
Not only are there no demons, but what was once a bizarre luxury cave with gilded antique furniture and priceless pieces of art is now just a burned-out shell leading to a wasteland of mile after mile of dull yellow sand that, according to Daire—who gave specific instructions to get through the tin walkway, the luxury cave, and then the second vortex beyond that leads to the valley of sand—isn’t supposed to come until later.
“The landscape’s all wrong.” I cling tightly to Axel, afraid of losing him in the throngs of people rushing around us, seemingly with no real direction in mind. Their eyes glazed, their movements jerky, almost robotic, as though they’re not quite acting of their own accord.
“That’s the least of what’s wrong.” Axel’s features sharpen, his eyes crease with worry. “Check out the tourmaline pendants those girls are wearing.”
I follow his gaze to see the gems glowing, blinking, as though a magickal switch was turned on.
“Jacy and Crickett are wearing those pendants—and Daire has the ring—we have to help them!” I’m filled with adrenaline, motivated by my need to rescue them all, until I take a good look at my surroundings, watching as the world descends into chaos, and realize I’m way out of my league. This goes far beyond any abilities a couple of feathers might’ve bestowed upon me. “This is a disaster!” My shoulders sink, my eyes burn, I’m falling apart, succumbing to the pressure, along with the growing certainty that it’s about to get worse. “How could this happen, when it was all going as planned?”
Axel responds with a grave face, as he pulls me alongside him through the valley of sand. “Looks like the Richters were in control all along.”
TWENTY-NINE
DACE
When the drum sounds, when the vortex illuminates, Leandro lifts his drink high and clinks his glass against mine. “Just like clockwork.” He grins, takes a final sip, and abandons his scotch on the bar. “Would you like to do the honors?”
I shake my head, causing him to doubt me again.
“You go first,” I say, in an effort to appease him. “But go easy on her. Don’t be too rough. I have a big finale planned for the end. And I want the Seeker lucid enough to enjoy it.”
Leandro’s grin grows wider. I’m finally speaking his language. “Just so you know, Gabe will want a shot at her. Heck, Marliz too. She’s always hated her.”
“Then they better get in line. And you better get moving before she gets too much of a head start.”
With a face filled with fatherly pride, he takes a moment to pat me on the back then he’s gone in a flash. Leaving me to study my brother from across the room. Still lying prone in the hall where Daire punched him.
Get up, fool.
His head swings. His eyes veer toward mine.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he heard.
“Leandro’s right.” I move toward him, closing the distance in a handful of steps. “You’re an embarrassment to all of us.”
He glares, curses under his breath, and struggles to his feet. His jaw marked by Daire’s fist. His mind a torment of heartbreak and rage.
Killing him is going to be ridiculously easy.
I brush past him on my way to the vortex. Knocking his shoulder so hard he stumbles, loses his balance, nearly ends up right back on the floor. “Get a grip,” I tell him. “Leandro’s going after the Seeker, and you’re in enough trouble already. If you’re smart, you’ll get moving and get to her first.”
THIRTY
DAIRE
The sand comes too soon. And what’s worse is there’s even more of it than the last time I was here.
Still, I try to stay positive. Try to assure myself that while it’s not quite what I was expecting, it might prove better this way. If nothing else, it ensures there’s no place for the Richters to hide.
I close my eyes, lift my arms to my sides, and indulge a moment of quiet, contented solitude. Knowing the elders are out there, working their magick and closing the exits, while my friends are on their way to provide backup in case I should need it.
Though I don’t plan to need it.
Aside from the sand, the whole thing is going according to plan.
Soon, very soon, I will avenge every last Seeker who was ever felled by a Richter.
El Coyote will be begging for mercy.
As the head of the clan, Leandro is first on my list, with Cade following closely behind.
The roar of feet pounding in the distance tells me they’re well on their way. The moment I’ve been waiting for about to come to fruition.
My heart thrums with anticipation.
I center my focus, and ready my blade.
Having waited so long for this moment, I can hardly believe that it’s here.
I wave my athame high over my head, signaling to my friends that all is well. It may not look like we planned but there is nothing to fear.
“Keep running!” I shout. “Make for the hill and wait for me there.”
On the lookout for Lita, Axel, Xotichl, and Auden, only to discover my friends aren’t there—it’s the crowd from the party instead.
A tsunami of masked people in formal attire cresting straight for me. Their tourmaline pendants and bracelets flashing and blinking as they plod through the sand as though driven by an outside force.
With only a few feet left spanning between us, the ground gives way, the sand collapses, and we’re sucked deep into the earth. Careening toward the Lowerworld where we crash in a heap of disjointed bodies.
I free myself from a tangle of limbs and scramble for my knife that came loose in the fall.
My fingertips are barely grazing the hilt when Leandro captures it with the heel of his boot, looms up before me, and says, “Thanks, Seeker. That went exactly as planned.”
THIRTY-ONE
DAIRE
Leandro glowers before me.
Kicks my athame well out of reach.
That one simple move signaling my plan is a fail—and yet, there’s no denying I’ve got him right where I want him. Now all I need is my knife.
I flatten my palm, splay my fingers to the side, and try to summon my athame. The familiar tingling sensation crawling over my flesh a sure sign it’s working, until Leandro hooks a mean right that lands squarely on my jaw.
My head snaps back, my feet fly up from under me, as my body spirals toward the dirt, and my mind reels with the absurdity of what I’m now facing: My boyfriend is a demon and his father just clocked me.
I roll onto my side, blinking past the constellation of stars swirling past, to see Leandro leading an army of demons, Richters, and anesthetized partygoers on a rampage through the very land I vowed to protect.
The Lowerworld is in chaos.
The Upperworld will soon follow.
Turns out, when Auden beat Paloma’s drum, it didn’t illuminate only the Rabbit Hole portal like we’d planned.
It illuminated all of the portals.
Swinging those glowing doorways wide open—all
owing the Richters an all-access pass to dimensions long denied them.
Once again, Coyote was one step ahead.
Orchestrating, if not second-guessing, my every move.
With the crowd quickly dispersing and Leandro long gone, I get to my feet, retrieve my athame, and duck behind a small grove of trees, where I hope to go unnoticed until I can figure a way to regroup.
Reaching for the buckskin pouch at my neck, convinced that if there was ever a time to call upon the aid of my ancestors and talismans, it’s now, I remember something Paloma once told me: Someday you will need to call on us like never before—use your light.
Well, I’m using my light, my talismans, my will, my intent—I’m using every trick my grandmother taught me, and calling to them with all that I’ve got. But after a few moments of silence, there’s still no sign of them. Not even Raven comes to my aid.
I’m alone.
Truly alone.
Just like the lone raven that soared above Paloma’s grave the day I buried her.
Seems my ancestors, along with my spirit animal, are dead set on ignoring me.
I push away from the trees, determined to locate my friends and do what I can to gain some semblance of control, when Chay whispers my name from a few feet away.
“Our magick failed.” He lumbers toward me. His face grief-stricken, hand clutching his side. “We were down here working. It was all going as planned. But then . . .” His voice fades, both of us knowing there’s no need to finish when the evidence surround us.
“It’s a disaster,” I say. “I thought I had it all under control, but once again, Coyote was pulling the strings.”
I start to yank the tourmaline ring from my finger, convinced Chay was right. I never should’ve made him dig it up. It’s only served to enable Coyote by allowing them direct access to me.
“Don’t.” He shakes his head, places a hand on my arm, as I shoot him a questioning look. “If it’s truly working against you, then it won’t be long before the Richters find you. They’ll want to celebrate breaching the three worlds by killing the Seeker. Which means you still have a chance to get to them before they get to you.”
“Leandro already had a go at me.” I rub the sore spot on my face where his fist met my jaw. “But then he took off. Guess raiding the Upperworld held more appeal.”
“He won’t be the one to kill you. He’ll save that particular victory for one of his sons.” The words are spoken in a straightforward manner, though his eyes betray the magnitude of his grief.
“How altruistic of him.” I roll my eyes, crack a sardonic grin, noting the way Chay grimaces in response. “How do you know so much, anyway?” I study him carefully, convinced there’s more going on than he’s willing to share.
“As a veterinarian, and a life-long citizen of Enchantment, let’s just say I’m well-versed in the ways of Coyote. I always figured this day would come.”
“It was fated.” I shut my eyes tightly, briefly; the words cut to the bone. Remembering the day I first learned Dace was my fated one. How happy I felt. How secure my future seemed. Never once daring to think we were fated to this . . .
My gut pings with grief, I find it hard to breathe, and I instinctively reach for the key that hangs from my chest—the symbol of Dace’s and my love. My fingers curling around it, seeking the assurance it’s never failed to provide.
I can’t give up.
Won’t give up.
The Richters have taken enough already—they won’t claim Dace too.
I lift my hand before me, watching as the tourmaline glimmers and glints as though it’s taken on a life of its own, then I glance all around. Taking in a once peaceful world now left in ruins, and it’s only bound to get worse.
“This marks the start of the prophecy.” Chay’s voice is gruffer than normal, as though each word is a struggle. “It may have nothing to do with the ring.”
“Either that, or once again, Cade got impatient and decided to jumpstart the event.”
“While we may never have the answer, perhaps you can find a way to make the stone work for you. What is it you told me about its properties?”
“It’s a shamanic tool, it activates the third eye, and in times of trouble, it can guide one toward safety . . .” My eyes grow wide with understanding. “So, you’re saying I should use it to lead me to the Richters instead of it leading them to me?”
His eyes shine as much as they’re able under the circumstances. “Either way, you’re bound to meet. But at least this way puts you in control of the situation.”
It doesn’t take long to concede that he’s right. But before I enact my new plan, I first need to know that the elders are safe. “Where are the others?” I ask. “Leftfoot, Cree, and Chepi?”
“They’re all here, somewhere. Figured it was best to separate so if worse came to worst, the Richters couldn’t take us all at once.”
I close my eyes. Hardly able to believe the danger I’ve put them all in.
“Hey now. There’s no time for regrets.” Chay tips a finger to my chin. “We’ve been part of this fight from the start. Long before you were born. What happens from this moment forward is not your fault. You hear?”
I nod because he expects me to, but I can’t quite shake my remorse.
“If you’re going to worry about anyone, save it for Jennika.”
My eyes snap open.
“I couldn’t stop her. She insisted on coming.”
“Tell me you didn’t really just say that,” I plead, wondering how it’s possible for this to get any worse. Though the look on his face confirms it’s the truth. “Is she at least armed?” Figuring what’s done is done, it’s better to veer toward the practical. “And what I mean by that is—is she armed with something other than a fierce maternal instinct to save her cub no matter the cost?”
Chay attempts agrin, but doesn’t get very far before his lips flatten, and his face pales from the strain. “She told us she’s quite proficient at archery, so Leftfoot set her up.”
“Proficient?” I frown, allowing a quick trip to the past when she took a few lessons during filming breaks on a movie set, but I don’t remember her adding it to her short list of hobbies. “At best, she’s an amateur,” I say, growing inexplicably angry at Jennika for overstating her skills and putting herself in grave danger.
“Well, it’s going to have to prove good enough.” Chay brushes a hand across his forehead, coming away with a film of sweat coating his fingers. “Anyway, you ready?”
I look at him.
“Fun’s just getting started.”
“You call this fun?”
“Like anything, it’s all in the perspective.”
He slips his Eagle ring from his finger, holds it high above his head, and emits a quick series of whistles that perfectly imitate their high-pitched peal.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, worried he’ll attract Richters and demons before I’m ready to face them.
Chay flattens a hand to his belly. Seeing my look of concern, he jabs a finger toward the sky, gesturing toward the beautiful Eagle soaring in ever-widening circles above. “He’s hunting for Richters,” he says, watching his magnificent spirit animal at work, which only makes me wonder what happened to mine.
“Will he bring them back to us?”
Chay tries to laugh, but it’s as unsuccessful as the grin. “Not likely. But if you follow, he’ll lead you to them. Think of him as a backup to the tourmaline.”
I shift my focus to Chay, adding up all the signs of physical distress he’s displayed since he arrived, and becoming even more convinced that something’s gone terribly wrong. “If I hurry? What about you? It’s your sprit animal. Aren’t you coming with me?”
He shakes his head sadly, and flips open his jacket. Revealing the place where blood continuously pumps from a wound hidden inside his shirt. “Looks like you’re not the only one who met up with Leandro.” His complexion pales, his gaze grows blunted, distant, and when I rush to help,
he pushes me away.
“I’m a healer! I can help you!” I cry, mentally reviewing the short list of quick fixes and remedies.
“That’s a side gig.” He grasps my hands and folds them in his. “You’re the Seeker first and foremost, which means you cannot afford to get distracted by me. Go, Daire. You’ve got a job to do. I’ll be fine.”
“But what if you’re not?” My lip quivers, my eyes sting, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that my heart has splintered into a thousand jagged shards. “I can’t do this alone! I can’t lose you too!”
“But someday you will.” His gaze is resigned, leaving no doubt he’s fighting to hang on long enough to convince me to leave. “If not today, then someday, and it’s perfectly okay. Paloma is waiting for me, and when my time is up, I’ll go gladly. I’m ready to find her. So don’t you worry. My breath may cease, but my soul will transcend. So go, Daire. Trust in your abilities. Trust in Paloma’s teachings. Trust in the wisdom of your ancestors. But most importantly, trust in your heart. It will never lead you astray.”
My eyes meet his, and I instinctively know he means Dace.
“Love is a powerful force. If anyone can save him, it’s you. So go. Go do what you were born to do.”
I cup a hand to either side of his face, tip onto my toes, and press my lips to his forehead. Hoping he can somehow intuit all of the words I’m too shaken to say. Then, with a heavy heart, I turn on my heel, and race to catch up with Eagle.
THIRTY-TWO
XOTICHL
The second I discover we’ve landed in the Lowerworld, my first instinct is to flee.
The place I once begged to visit—the place I once held so dear—the place that bestowed me with what I once considered the most incredible gift by restoring my sight—has descended into a scene so hellish, it’s like a mirror image of the wasteland of emotions warring inside.