We can’t just pretend the world isn’t in peril and relying on us to save it. The scourge—a plague stealing magic and decaying our homelands—is still out there. Without the cure, the fae are doomed. It’s become a lot more complicated with the new information we’ve obtained, but it remains true that the world requires the spell book hidden in the middle of these cursed lands. And we’re miles from it.
“You know we have to go,” I say, taking one last sip, savoring the calming herbs.
He doesn’t respond. Rev still has a life waiting for him. A good life. An important role to fill. I won’t let him throw it all away to stay in this terrible place forever.
That’s my fate.
Not his.
“Cae,” he says lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking...”
“Never a good sign,” I say with a smirk.
He rolls his eyes. “Listen, you know I don’t agree with my brother about... what he wanted.”
My death. Apparently, I’m the key to setting the Night Terror free and reuniting with her powerful mate. If I die, their hope is lost.
“But, well, it’s still true that the Night... whatever...”
“Terror,” I whisper. “Night Terror.” The other half of my own childhood nightmare. The Night Bringer trapped me and tortured me. I was only in his clutches for days, but that kind of pain and fear—well, that doesn’t ever leave you.
Not one night has gone by without dreaming of his talons carving through my body. His deep rumbling voice, ancient and powerful, will haunt me forever.
And, yes, I’m planning to go face down with his other half—a being just like him.
“The Night Terror wants to trap you. Use you to undo her curse.”
My eyebrows raise.
“She wants to capture you. Don’t you think journeying toward her is a bad idea?”
“And she wants you dead. What difference does that make?”
“Maybe you should stay here. Let me go—”
“You’re insane,” I spit.
“Listen!” Rev says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just hear me out. If you are still determined to come along, I won’t stop you.”
I roll my eyes because there isn’t a thing he could say to keep me in this place while he risks his life to save the world.
“Reahgan had a point. You being out there is a risk. The closer you get to the Night Terror, the more likely she’ll get what she wants. But if you stay here—”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “No.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“And so are you!” I yell, tossing my hands up. “We’re in an impossible situation. You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t realize that chances are I end up captured and tortured by—well, nearly, the same creature that captured and tortured me as an adolescent? You think that doesn’t petrify me?” My breath shudders. I’m terrified of the day I enter his clutches again.
The Night Bringer can’t touch me here. But his mate can. I’m not stupid enough to hope she’ll be any better. She’ll tear me apart limb and soul, the same way he did, then stitch me back together just enough to use me to complete whatever deeds they wish.
Rev steps forward, eyes softened. “Caelynn,” he whispers.
I close my eyes at the intimate way he says my name now. I could die like his, just near him. With my name on his lips.
“I’m sorry...”
“Don’t.” I wave away his pity. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is my reality. I don’t dare feel sorry for myself, so you don’t either, got it? I’ll face my nightmare if that’s what I must do.”
I’ll do it all over again just to save you, I think. I’d take the world on my shoulders, the hate and pain, and fear of a million years, just to know he is okay. Because my hope was lost long ago. There has to be a reason for all of it. If I let him die or fail or become trapped, then it was all for nothing.
Right now, what Rev needs is me alive. Me fighting. And so, that’s what I’ll give him. But when the time comes that I know that’s not enough, things will change. I’ll break his heart to save him.
Rev
I stare wide-eyed and helpless at the beautiful shadow fae. Her face crumples, exposing her pain and fear for only a moment before she hides behind that shield of indifference once again.
The creature that captured and tortured me as an adolescent...
Her words ring through my mind, sparking a fiery rage in my chest. Beyond a rushed explanation during the trials—before I knew she was my mate— we haven’t talked about what happened when she bargained with the Night Bringer. A bargain that resulted in her stabbing my brother in the heart.
That creature tortured her.
And I hated her for her choice.
I see her now, though, and I marvel at the depth within. She’s broken and scared but also bright and hopeful. I only wish I’d seen it sooner.
The truth is, it’s me I’m most angry with. Because I was so blinded by my hate that I never saw what she was. She was my savior. My fucking soulmate. And I’d condemned her without thinking twice. I’d tried to kill her, even while she was still working to save me.
Over and over and over again.
I thought she was evil, but now that I know the full truth, I can’t help but feel like I’m the bad one. My soul is dull, cast in shadow, compared to the luminesce of her spirit.
Could I really allow some evil creature to take that away from me without fighting for it?
I can see the resignation in her eyes.
Caelynn still plans to die when the time comes. She’ll drive the dagger through her own heart if she has to.
“What do you think will happen the moment they get to you?” Her jaw clenches. “If you’re worried that, somehow, they’ll capture me when we’re together, then isn’t it just as likely that she’ll get her talons into you if you’re alone?”
I let out a quick breath through my nose. “If I die, nothing changes. If they get their hands on you, they win.”
“And you think I’ll just sit here and let you die? You think I won’t come running the moment I learn you’re in danger? Those beings... they’re smart. They know how we work. They know how we think. And I know myself well enough. I know that if they were to capture you.” Her voice breaks. “I’d give myself up in an instant.”
“To what end, Caelynn?” I ask, throwing my hands up. “You’ll let the world burn to save my life?”
“Yes,” she hisses, eyes as fierce as I’ve ever seen them.
I swallow. I... don’t know what to think about that. Would I do the same? Should I? Is it better to choose the realm I plan to lead over Caelynn?
“It will be all too easy for the Night Terror to capture you,” Caelynn continues calmly, “and lure me in on her terms. You said it yourself: we’re strongest together.”
I bite the inside of my lip and nod. “Fine.”
She lets out a quick breath. “Good.” She doesn’t so much as flinch as she spins to grab my bag. “You gave up quicker than I expected.” She smirks as she holds out my backpack.
“I know a losing battle when I see one.” I shrug and sling the bag over my shoulder. I still think it makes sense for Caelynn to stay behind. She’s reasonably safe here in this magically secure cottage. And the farther we travel into the Schorchedlands, the more dangerous this becomes.
Unfortunately, we came on this mission remarkably less prepared than I’d thought. I didn’t know how deep the conspiracy ran.
Was all of this—the scourge, the trials, the quest for a cure— all orchestrated just to get Caelynn here? That’s what the wraith calling himself my brother had implied, but I have a hard time wrapping my mind around it all.
Or is this whole story made up? Maybe it’s all a part of the Schorchedlands’ attempt to derail us from our mission.
I don’t know. That seems outlandish, but so does everything else.
As the story goes, the Night Bringer
started the scourge and manipulated everyone into believing the spell book inside the Schorchedlands is the only cure. He pulled all the strings to get Caelynn into the trials. And he’s been manipulating everyone to get her inside the Wicked Gates.
Because he needs her, and the book, to free his mate from this cursed place.
As for me? I’m only in the way. A tool he’s used to manipulate Caelynn.
It’s hard to say what I should believe. It’s possible I don’t even need to spell book to cure the lands from the plague. But I can’t take that chance.
That’s the only thing I’m certain of. One way or another, I’m getting my hands on that spell book.
From there, things get more complicated. Because I refused to leave without Caelynn. There has to be a way to get her out of here with her life still intact.
Or maybe... maybe I’ll just stay. I’ll deliver the book to the queen, say my goodbyes, and come right back into the waiting arms of the fae who gave up everything for me. We’ll live a humble life in this little cottage, barely surviving, certainly not thriving, but alive and together.
It’s cramped and old and dirty and nothing like what I’ve been accustomed to my whole life, and yet there would be a quiet kind of freedom. Choosing to live here.
It would strip my life of obligations and plans. I suppose I’d be proving my father right—giving him exactly what he wants. I can’t be his heir if I’m trapped in hell.
What a sad ending that would be.
But if it’s my only option, I may just choose it. Because I cannot live my life normally knowing I left her here. I can’t. I won’t.
Caelynn watches me, eyes narrowed, as I grab our last-minute supplies.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she finally says and shakes her head. Then, she pulls the door open, making way for the sticky-warm air to blow through our pathetic safehouse. “Ready?”
I sigh. “No.”
But even so, I step into the heinous terrain of the Schorchedlands.
Caelynn
The ash-covered hills surround us. The black swamp, where we last saw Rheagan is behind us. Immediately, breathing becomes more difficult between the ash wafting in the wind and the rancid smell of rotting flesh and sulfur.
We pause, staring at the mountain pass before us. The Schorchedlands are not particularly large considering what’s enclosed in these magical walls. It’s all compressed into only a few dozen miles. It’s built like a bullseye, with the worst terrain in the center. That’s where we need to get to. The center of the map.
The distance from the Wicked Gates to the location of the spell book is only around ten miles, and we’re halfway there. But bearing in mind the difficulty we’ve already faced—a bog of animated bones, a forest with white trees that show you your deepest desires and then trap you with their finger-like appendages, and a valley full of mindless wraiths and zombie bears—well, we’re not exactly looking forward to the rest of the journey.
Rev glances over his shoulder, but I refuse to spend any time reminiscing or wondering. I keep my stare focused on the path ahead—literally. One step at a time if I have to.
We only make it five hundred feet before Rev stops. I halt beside him.
“Look,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically somber. So, begrudgingly, I turn back.
The cottage stands right in the middle of a fairly flat valley a hundred feet from the swamp. The sky is streaked with reddish light and dark grey clouds where the silhouette of three wraiths descend slowly, cautiously, toward the rock valley and the cottage we left just minutes ago. This is the closest we’ve seen any wraiths come to the cottage, and they’re steadily moving in.
While Rev’s bright magic brings attention, mine is it’s opposite.
Rev and I shift closer to the mountainside and I quietly wrap shadows over the two of us to keep us hidden. Using my shadows, I can become essentially invisible. Though it never works as thoroughly when I cast them on someone else. I can veil Rev, make it harder to see him, but that’s the extent of it. It’ll have to do for now.
“What are they doing?” Rev whispers. The wraiths converge on the cottage.
“They’re making sure we can’t go back,” I whisper. The hair on my arms stands up straight. Which also means they’ve been watching us. It wasn’t the magic of the cottage that kept the wraiths away. They were spying.
“They were watching us,” Rev echoes my thoughts. “But not engaging. Why?”
I bite my lip and watch the wraiths gathering closer to the house. They don’t go in, but they shift around the structure as if examining it.
I press my lips together, mind whirling. “We should go,” is all I say, and I spin on my heel to leave the cottage behind for good.
What does it mean? It means the Night Terror knew where we were the whole time. It means she’s been keeping an eye on us and now doesn’t want us to go backward.
It means she wants us to come to her.
WE WALK IN SILENCE for a full hour. I hold the thin shadow veil over us both, just in case. It uses up some of my magic, but it’s not a full shield so the power required is minimal. As long as we’re careful, we should be able to escape spying eyes.
“Can I see the map again?” I ask Rev. Unlike me, Rev had the chance to study these lands in as much detail as was available. Admittedly, the information is limited. There have been very few “expeditions” into this part of our world, and wraiths are not very forthcoming. They do seem to know a hell of a lot, though, which is incredibly annoying.
They know all our secrets but won’t tell useful information until it pleases them. I wrinkle my nose as I think of my wraith... friend. I don’t even know what to call him.
The son of the last Shadow Court High King and my great, great, great, great—whatever—grandfather, hasn’t been around since I refused to abandon Rev to claim my heritage as the rightful queen of the Shadow Court.
“You’ve studied the map non-stop the last two days. There’s nothing more to see.”
I purse my lips, knowing he’s right, but even so, staring at the spread of this terrible place makes it easier to swallow. Easier than facing the crumbling pile of rocks we’re supposed to hike through.
There could be faster and less expected routes to reach the center, but from everything we’ve learned about this place, most of the terrain is next to impossible to survive—except for the one pathway built into it. The Bog of Bones was meant to be avoided—follow the rocks outside of the sewage-y swamp and the zombie bones won’t bother you. The Forest of Desires had a clear pathway straight down the middle. The images inside the trees would tempt travelers to veer off so they could capture them with their clawing tree arms and suck their souls dry. I absently press my hand to my back. That wasn’t a pleasant feeling. The wound still aches, more so than the wound in my stomach from wraith-Reahgan.
Have I mentioned my time in the Schorchedlands hasn’t been very pleasant? Cause it hasn’t.
Now, we have two and a half miles of mountains to traverse before we reach the wall of flames. The fae who built our cottage never traveled past the wall of fire. He didn’t know how to get past it. Which, of course, bodes well for us now.
Only one known living being has passed all the way into the Schorchedlands, and he’s basically a legend. No one knows the details. They just know he hid a spell book there. A spell book that can reverse the cursed plague spreading over the fae realm.
Without our wraith escorts, both of whom we’ve alienated by choosing not to kill each other—wraiths, apparently, aren’t the most romantically inclined beings— we’re flying dark. We’ll have to work together to pass this new magical obstacle.
The hills are generally quiet this time of the day. Wraiths aren’t fans of the light. Even though it’s dull and hazy, they avoid the sun at all costs. I had been surprised at how little they’ve bothered us these last few days considering the Night Terror put a bounty on us. But now our recent wraith visitors tell me ther
e is a very specific reason for that.
I just haven’t figured out what that is yet.
Rev stops, holding out a hand to halt my movement. “Did you hear that?” he whispers.
Soft shuffling and scraping sound around the next bend. There is one large rocky hill standing between us and... something. Likely not wraiths since they float.
Were we in the fae realm or even on Earth, I’d guess it was a herd of animals. Deer or wolves most likely. But we are not in the land of the living any longer.
There are several different kinds of creatures in this place, wraiths being the most common. But there are also undead animals in various stages of decay. Some look almost like living creatures with greyed skin and open black wounds and the occasional exposed bone. Others are entirely skeletal with flesh just barely clinging to their bones in patches. But even so, the birds squawk, the bears roar and sprint and claw-like any other bear. I don’t know how they’re living or what made them this way.
Everything here wants to kill us. Including the passing birds that soar overhead.
“What should we do?” I ask. We know wraiths are likely following us, and if we face a group of zombified animals, we’ll be forced to fight and will certainly bring attention to ourselves.
“We move forward cautiously.”
“If we have to fight something... the wraiths will find us.”
Rev nods slowly. “But there isn’t another choice. We can’t turn back now.”
I bite my lip. He’s right. I nod in concession but hold up one finger. “Let me handle it. My magic is less likely to catch unwanted attention.”
Rev purses his lips but then nods in agreement. “Have fun,” he says, waving his hand to usher me forward with a flick of his eyebrow. My stomach twists pleasantly as I meet his eye. Sick joy spreads through me at the thought of unleashing my awaiting magic. Use me, it seems to imply.
The memory washes through me—when I claimed my enemy’s power as my own. When I murdered Rev’s brother and completed the Night Bringer’s “impossible” bargain. I won that game, a decade ago. And the Night Bringer’s magic became mine.
Soul of Thorns (Wicked Fae Book 3) Page 2