by Chloe Jacobs
The words suddenly meant more than they ever had before. Isaac’s image rose up in her mind, and the hot saltiness of tears became another challenge to overcome as she fought to keep her shit together and not think of him.
Wyatt took her hand. Someone else touched her shoulder, probably Siona. They were telling her that they were right there. Believing in her, encouraging her.
“Wherever you go. Wherever you laugh. Wherever you sing and dance and sigh. Wherever you are, nearby or far, I’ll follow the stars just to find you.”
She kept singing, pouring more and more of her heart into each verse and each note as the words fell out of her like a fountain. Every time she repeated the refrain, the memory of Isaac’s sacrifice replayed. She remembered his kiss, and his eyes, and his smile. It broke her heart over and over again.
On the last note she opened her eyes, part of her convinced that it could be true and the battle had all been a dream, but she found herself looking up into Wyatt’s face, steady and confident and encouraging. She held his gaze as she held the last note, letting it ring out in the clearing.
There wasn’t another sound but hers. Not a screeching Mylean bat emerging into the twilight or a shrieking hopper bug. It was like everyone stopped breathing as she held that final crystallized note…until it slowly, slowly faded into the gathering dusk.
There were no words for a long time. Not from the bjer, or Wyatt, or anyone else.
She blinked as a snowflake landed on her eyelash, then another on her cheek. She had no idea when it had started to snow, but the big fluffy flakes drifted down gently, almost reverently. It was kind of nice, actually. The snow felt kind of like a postcard. Pretty without being brutal.
Finally, she turned to look at Midas, whose mouth hung open at her eye level. At some point that she hadn’t even noticed, he’d knelt on one knee in front of her. He was staring at her like she’d just performed the most amazing trick and he was trying to reason where she’d got the rabbit to pull out of her hat.
“How did you do it?” he asked. “How do you take something so simple as words and turn them into magick?” He held out his arm and she edged back, expecting him to pick her up and shake her until the music came out again.
“Do it again,” he ordered in a booming voice, leaning forward until she could smell his rank breath and see the flecks of green in his milky eyes. He didn’t shake her, but gave her a not so subtle poke to the shoulder to urge her to obey.
Wyatt and the faeries all closed ranks simultaneously. “You must accede. We met your terms and have made payment as requested,” Siona reminded Midas gently. “Danem Greta’s song is exactly what you wanted, a treasure you have never been offered before. In fact, you have been given a treasure that has no match anywhere in Mylena.”
The bjer frowned, still staring at her.
“You will allow us access to the bridge. Now.” The steel of Byron’s position ran through his tone, daring Midas to renege on their deal.
A calculating light dawned in his gaze, making Greta’s blood run cold as she imagined what it could mean. “The agreement was never intended to include passage for all,” he finally said.
“That’s bullshit!” Wyatt surged forward angrily, but she grabbed his shoulder. She wanted to say the same thing, but the situation was on the verge of turning very dangerous once more.
She started to tell him she’d sing another song. After all, it was just a few minutes of her life. If it made the bjer happy, what could it hurt? But the bright shine in his eyes stopped her. One song wasn’t going to be enough. Ten, twenty, or a hundred songs—assuming she could even remember that many—wouldn’t be enough. If Midas had his way, she’d find herself locked up in a human-sized birdcage singing her heart out day after day until she ran out of songs—and then he’d probably kill her.
Midas focused only on her. “I’m feeling generous and I shall let everyone pass…as long as you stay,” he said. “You will stay and give me more of this treasure, and when your group returns they shall be guaranteed safe crossing a second time as well.” Now he was the one negotiating. He sounded almost desperate.
“And then you’ll let me go?” she asked.
He nodded eagerly. As far as deals went, it didn’t sound so unreasonable—all except for the fact that she didn’t believe him for a minute. Trusting him to keep his word had already proven to be a big mistake.
“Get going,” she told everyone, pushing Wyatt and Siona toward the cliff’s edge and the bridge. “You have to hurry before it gets too late to find shelter for the night.”
She looked at Wyatt. Please don’t fight this.
Siona gave her a loaded look and a slow nod. Greta let out a deep breath and nodded as well. Thank God Siona understood.
When Midas didn’t stop them from going she let out a soundless sigh of relief.
Her heart pounded as she watched. They were almost at the bridge—
A large creature burst into the clearing with eyes of burning red, a face smeared with blood, and a roar that could bring an avalanche down the mountain.
Her breath caught. She almost didn’t recognize the former goblin king. He was as much a monster now as any Lost creature she’d ever hunted—crazed and without a hint of the boy who’d teased her, kissed her, and promised her a future by his side.
Her heart cracked with grief and sadness, even as the magick took hold with a forceful explosion of fire that was strong enough to throw even Midas back.
It took him by surprise long enough that he was still reeling when Wyatt reached her side. Why wasn’t he halfway to the bridge already?
He reached for her. She shouted to warn him, but it was too late. He hissed at the sizzle of flesh when he touched her, but clamped his hand on her wrist anyway and didn’t let go.
“Come on!” He pulled her along, but she hesitated and turned back.
Isaac was running for them with a wolfish snap of his massive jaws.
A heat wave pulsed out from her core. She pushed it without conscious thought. In fact, it seemed to have a mind of its own. Isaac hollered in pain. She gasped at the smell of scorched hair and skin and took an instinctive step toward him.
“You can’t help him now!” Wyatt yelled.
“I can try!” she cried out, chest tight with half hope, half dread. “What if—”
Wyatt shoved his red, quickly blistering hand in front of her face. “What if you kill us all trying to find out?”
She flinched. He was right. She couldn’t risk reaching out to Isaac until she was safe.
She let Wyatt pull her with him. Behind them something howled, but she didn’t dare turn to look again.
They took off running. Midas’s enraged shout rent the air, and she put her head down and pushed herself even faster. Wyatt kept pace.
The faeries waited at the base of the bridge.
“Go, go, go!” she yelled, waving for them to move their butts.
They turned and started single file onto the bridge, and then Wyatt was shoving her ahead of him.
Eyna’s Falls was another mile or so upriver from Solem’s Bridge. It was the only free-running source of water in all of Mylena except for the hot springs beneath the Brimstone Caves. The rivers and lakes everywhere else had frozen long ago.
The frozen mist covering the thin boards of the bridge had made it slippery and it swayed back and forth, threatening to tip everyone into the deep chasm. She immediately scrambled to grab onto the rope rails with both hands.
Then she looked down. Bad idea. There was no bottom.
She knew it had just gotten too dark to see the bottom, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
She took another step and her foot went right through a rotten board. She caught herself and spun around to stop Wyatt from barreling into her. He careened to a halt and gripped the ropes tightly.
Behind them, Midas roared, and she could just see him pounding both his massive fists into the earth as he glared out at them. Vibrations ran the length o
f the bridge and set it rocking even harder.
She scanned the cliff’s edge for Isaac and saw him battling the rizos and could only pray that he would be okay.
Surprisingly, Midas didn’t follow them onto the bridge, and he didn’t start tearing it down—both of which she’d feared but had strategically decided were risks they had to take.
“Why is he just standing there?” she wondered out loud.
Wyatt’s gaze widened, and he pointed over her shoulder. “That’s why,” he said, alarmed.
Greta turned back around. Mylena’s two moons peeked through a break in the cloud cover. Siona and the faeries were about fifteen feet ahead, but beyond them everything disappeared into the settling darkness. There was no way to tell what might be waiting on the last half of the bridge, or the other side of the chasm, for that matter.
She squinted, but there was nothing—
Swoop.
The dark couldn’t quite hide what the night had brought along with it. Something had swept down from above, right for Siona and the others. Someone screamed, and they ducked en masse. When something in the darkness echoed the cry almost exactly, Greta swore.
“Crap. Harpies!”
Chapter Thirteen
She leaped over the break in the planks just as her own voice cried, “Harpies!” back at her from right above her left shoulder. She ducked in time to avoid the clawing talons of the winged creature and looked up to see the opalescent white of its under wings disappearing back into the night.
“One of you keep talking,” she called to the group ahead. “Just one. Harpies are mimics. When it repeats the words back to you, you’ll be able to hear where it’s coming from. But too many voices and—”
“Too many voices…”
She ducked again, hands plastered over her head as she waited for the harpy to carry her off. The words echoing at them in Greta’s own voice cut off abruptly with a scream. Nothing touched her, and when she looked up, Wyatt was peering over the bridge’s rope railing into the depths below. He turned to her and held out his hand to help her up.
“What did you do to it?”
“Nothing permanent. It will be back soon enough. Let’s get off this bridge.”
They ran to the others, stepping carefully. Greta drew her sword as they neared. The princess was crouched low, with Dryden leaning over her for protection, while Siona and the others flanked the prince. She let out a relieved breath to see that everyone was still accounted for. It was impossible to know how many harpies were up there. It could have been just the one, but she somehow doubted it.
In the dark of night, harpies were practically invisible until they were already on top of you. With midnight feathers, black hair, and charcoal skin, the only parts of them that caught the moonlight were the shimmering undersides of their wings and the glow of their yellow eyes.
She cocked her head to listen for the rush of air. Wyatt and Siona looked up, turning around like chickens waiting for the sky to fall. “Are they still here?” asked Leila.
“Still here?”
“Down, get back down!” Everyone ducked, but Siona cried out suddenly.
A harpy had her by the upper arm. She gripped the rope railing with her other hand but couldn’t do that and keep her dagger. It slipped and tumbled end over end into the nothingness.
Siona’s face scrunched up in pain as the harpy tried to tear her off the bridge. The thing looked surprisingly like a girl, besides the pointed beak and those glowing eyes. It had a girl’s shape and arms and legs like a girl, although wide wings spread out from its shoulder blades, and those spindly legs ended in curled talons like a bird of prey.
Greta lunged and slashed at the creature until it let go of Siona, but another two were already swooping down on them. One went for Wyatt and Dryden, while the other reached for Byron.
“No!” she screamed.
A chorus of “No, No, No!” rolled back at her. As one of them repeated it, more and more continued the echo until it came from all sides.
Greta hacked at feathers, arms, and legs. She looked over to see Dryden grab a harpy by the throat and punch it in the face before throwing it over the bridge. She winced at the brutality of it…but then she was forced to plunge her blade into the breast of another, and there was no time for attacks of conscience.
Not only were they being overrun, but the bridge was rocking dangerously from side to side and it would only take a second for someone to lose their grip or their balance and tumble right off…and that was if the frayed ropes didn’t snap first.
When the magick started to rumble up from the depths of her belly like a grumbling volcano, she panicked. “Siona!”
Her friend looked up in alarm.
“Siona, do whatever it is you do when I go off the deep end,” she said, already scorching the ropes she had an iron death grip on. “You can’t let me lose control here. If that happens, we’re all going over this bridge.”
The goblin hunter looked at Leila in alarm, and something passed between them.
“Siona, please,” Greta begged.
Siona nodded. “I will do what I can, danem,” she said.
She immediately felt better. Whether that was because Siona had already put the psychic clamp on, or just the idea of it relieved her mind, she couldn’t care less. “We have to get off this bridge! Everyone hold on to something, but keep moving and don’t stop no matter what happens.”
“Don’t stop…what happens,” the harpies repeated.
Dryden took the lead, with the princess and Byron right behind him. Wyatt stepped ahead next and put his foot through a board, dropping so fast she screamed. “Wyatt!”
She hurled herself after him without thinking. She snagged the cuff of his jacket and held on so tight her hand cramped. With a tight grimace, she heaved, but he was too heavy.
Siona was on her knees behind Greta with an arm wrapped around her thighs.
“Don’t let go,” she called, not sure whether she was talking to Siona or to Wyatt.
The plank dug into her ribs. Her side screamed in agony, and the muscles of her arms shook with Wyatt’s weight. The echo of the harpies was getting to her, making her want to scream—but if she did, they’d only send her screams back at her, too.
And she might lose it completely if that happened.
She squeezed even tighter and ducked her head over Wyatt as another wave of wings brushed her shoulders.
Dryden knelt down on the other side of the broken space and reached down to grab Wyatt under the arm.
She glanced up at him, but the faerie didn’t look annoyed, impatient, or angry. Just determined. She reluctantly moved aside. She couldn’t do it on her own, and there wasn’t enough room for the both of them to lift Wyatt out. She had to trust him.
But she couldn’t breathe again until Wyatt was safely back on the bridge. “Thank you,” she said to Dryden.
“Move,” he replied shortly, pushing everyone ahead of him. Peering forward, it seemed like they had to be past the halfway point, but she couldn’t see the end of the bridge yet.
Suddenly it started shaking. She looked over her shoulder. The harpies had landed right on it, taking their hunt to the next level. If they couldn’t swoop in, then apparently they’d close in.
When Byron and Leila careened to a stop up ahead, Greta knew more harpies blocked the way there, too. “What are we going to do?” Leila looked back, wincing when her words were thrown back at her amid the flurry of battering wings. Everyone clutched the rope railing with two hands for balance as the bridge canted back and forth violently.
The pressure inside her started to build again. That push of power looking for a way out was getting familiar now, welcome, even, but if she started flinging magick around here, all of them were going to end up going over the edge…literally.
Suddenly Midas’s shout ripped across the chasm. Greta gasped but had already come too far over the bridge to see back to where they’d begun. And then she heard another sound. The sou
nd of pure rage…and she didn’t have to see.
She looked up at the break in the clouds, or the break in the shadows from the harpies flocking overhead. It took everything she had to ignore the instinct to fight her way back to Isaac. She couldn’t help him, and she couldn’t abandon Wyatt and Siona. In fact, going back wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Isaac, since that might mean having to take him out. She wasn’t prepared for that. Not yet.
She turned back around to find Wyatt watching her. “Go on and help Siona up at the front,” she said through the tightness in her throat. “I’ll pull up the rear and keep the harpies back.”
They made slow progress crossing the bridge. Siona, Wyatt, and Dryden battled through the harpies in front, and Greta managed to hold her own at the back of the line, but every minute they spent on the increasingly unstable structure heightened her fear that all of them would end up falling to the rocky shoals below or drowning in the ice-cold, rushing river.
She squinted ahead. Hope bloomed. For the first time, she thought she could actually see where the land began again on the other side of the chasm.
But the bridge started bouncing wildly once more. She lost her grip on one of the rope railings and pitched to the side, keeping her balance by the skin of her teeth. Byron let out a surprised shout, but thankfully everyone managed to hold on.
Something else had gotten onto the bridge with them and was coming up fast. There was still a gaggle of harpies between them and the newcomer approaching, but Greta’s heart rate spiked. She knew Isaac had made it onto the bridge, and she would be forced to fight him here and now.
She held her breath as some of the harpies took off and seemed to swoop back. “Hurry! Everyone keep moving!” she yelled up to the front of the line.
“Keep moving!” the harpies echoed.
When a figure broke the thick darkness, she hitched a breath. Even though she’d expected it, the sight of him coming out of the shadows down that narrow gangplank like a freight train coming out of a tunnel was terrifying. She screamed.
“Greta!” Siona called.
“Keep going.” She planted her feet and pulled her sword. “I’ll hold him back. Get everyone onto solid ground!”