Then, a thin, silver light, like the light of the stars, washed over the space around me.
I wasn’t naked anymore. I’d been dressed in a long, silvery gown, the fabric pure gossamer. My purple hair cascaded over bare shoulders.
I wasn’t wearing shoes. As I walked forward, a world began to take shape around me, the contours oddly familiar. A gray cottage of rough-hewn wood, a narrow village road. Buildings wrapped in flowering vines.
Just on the edge of the village, beyond this clearing, dark forests yawned on either side. I didn’t want to look into those woods…. It wasn’t safe there. They’d always seemed so alive to me, the trees breathing and moving, but now their trunks stood like stone sentinels ready to kill me.
It was only safe here, in civilization. The darkness in the forests was just a little too dark, too savage.
Why was it so empty here?
It took me a little while to realize what I was looking at. Then, the shock of familiarity hit me.
This was Eden—where I’d lived with my mum and dad long ago, before Ruadan had come. This was the village they’d created—the wooden homes, the elaborate stone temples, overgrown with honeysuckle and moonflowers. The perfect melding of the wild and the divine. This beautiful world was the only one I’d known in those days, before I’d leapt through the portal to London.
Sadness pierced me as I was forced to face the truth.
I’d killed all of them, hadn’t I? And this was my reckoning.
That’s why the buildings were empty. Gods, I just wanted to see another living person, someone with a beating heart. Here, the loneliness was crushing.
The sound of footfalls pattered behind me, and I whirled.
“Hello?” I called out.
Silence greeted me. I exhaled, walking again.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to see my old house, the one where my mum had tried to teach me to dance, where my dad had read me books in his lap. I didn’t want to see it empty and dead like these buildings. These were the carcasses of my past life.
Footfalls again, and I turned. This time I caught a flash of pale skin, a glimpse of purple—
My heartbeat raced. “Hello?”
Whoever it was had disappeared around the corner of a house, and I picked up my pace to follow.
“Who’s there?” I needed to find them. I couldn’t be alone here.
When I rounded the next corner, I saw her—the little girl with the amber eyes; the short, purple hair that she’d cut herself. A white dress short enough to show off her skinned, dirty knees. Her mother had wanted her to wear it. She hated dresses, the way you were supposed to keep them clean and unwrinkled, and she wanted to run through the woods and pretend to hunt.
I swallowed hard. “Liora,” I whispered.
She giggled, then ran off into the gloom of the forest.
“Wait!”
I chased after her, my bare feet pounding the dirt. How could a little girl run so fast? My blood turned cold as I ran deeper into the forest. Blossoming hawthorn trees surrounded us, but their branches looked oddly sharp and spiked—half tree, half medieval weapon.
She ran on the narrow path, and I tried to keep up with her. The branches scraped my skin, drawing blood like claws.
My pulse pounded in my ears. I had to chase her. I had to tell her to be careful—that a fae cohort would come here today. A fomoire would ruin her world, and she had to be ready. I broke into a sprint.
How the hells was she so fast?
“Stop!” I yelled.
Abruptly, the little girl stopped and turned to see me.
She gaped at me, her eyes black and empty. “You don’t exist. You never did. You never loved.”
My legs started shaking, and I felt the ground giving way beneath my feet again. A seed of understanding began to bloom in my mind. “I’m onto you.” I gritted my teeth. “You’re not a little girl. You’re not me. You’re a demon of the void.”
At my words, her body began to shift, limbs elongating. A tall, pale demon appeared before me.
No longer a little girl, the demon loomed over me. Silver horns jutted out from his blond hair, and his canines glinted. He wore a blue T-shirt and jeans, which seemed a bit weird for a demon.
“Liora,” he chanted in a singsong voice. “Liora. Liora, Liora. Death poisons her aura.”
Anger tightened my lungs, my fists clenching. As he sang, that old image rose in my mind—the one of my mum lying flat on her back, the skin around her neck discolored to a bruise purple.
The demon’s form flickered away again. “She killed her mum, she killed her friends, and they won’t come back anymore-a.”
Rage ignited, and I ripped a spiked branch off a tree. “That doesn’t even rhyme properly, you stupid twat!” I shrieked.
“Liora, Liora….” He continued on with his enraging chant. He kept flickering between the tree trunks—just glimpses of his tall, pale body.
This was a trial, wasn’t it? That meant I probably had to kill him. Good. I really wanted to kill him.
But the more I chased him, the farther away he seemed to slip. The ground looked purple here, discolored and rotten. The color of bruises, of rotting flesh … blood stained the soil.
If I didn’t kill this demon, I’d be trapped here forever, forced to relive my worst memories. Forced to tread on my mother’s neck.
That’s what Hell was, wasn’t it? Nyxobas, you fucker. Was this really necessary?
Baleros’s twentieth law of power: Bring your enemy to you.
I stopped in my tracks, closing my eyes, catching my breath.
Silence yawned around me. Then, the icy stroke of the demon’s fingertips up my spine sent a sharp pang of loneliness shooting through me.
You never loved….
I spun around, driving the spiked branch right into the demon’s heart. His hazel eyes widened with shock. There was something familiar about them….
Dark blood poured from his chest. Then, he disintegrated like dust, and particles of his demon body floated away on the wind.
I sighed. There. Alone again.
I looked around me, waiting for the portal to open once more. I’d swim out of the portal water and drag Ruadan back to bed before we went off in search of my dad.
But no portal was opening in the earth. Instead, the forest around me began to shift, the sharp lines of the trees growing softer. Then, the godsdamned blond demon appeared again, farther along down the winding forest path. He walked toward me, his smile mocking. I was sure he was about to start singing again.
“How many times do I have to kill you?” I shouted.
I gripped my head, my mind whirling. Maybe I’d approached this wrong. Since joining the Institute, there had been a few trials where I wasn’t supposed to kill someone. The gorta, the creepy banshee in that East London shop….
It would be nice if someone would lay out the ground rules ahead of time, given that my first instinct was always to kill.
I let out a long, slow breath, studying the creature before me. The closer I looked, the less it looked like he was mocking me. In fact, his strangely familiar hazel eyes looked haunted. By his pointed ears, I could tell that he wasn’t just a demon. He was at least part fae.
“What do I know you from?” I asked.
His mouth opened and closed mutely, and the stricken look on his face filled me with guilt.
Then, he spoke again. “I … a darkness. I … a darkness. Dick.”
I scratched my cheek. “Okay, friend. What am I supposed to do here?”
“Amgggr pentagra bus hole.”
“Yeah, I’m going to need something a little clearer.” I scrunched my nose as a seed of understanding began to bloom in my mind. “Did you used to be a fae? Have you been trapped in the demon world, slowly turning into a demon?”
He nodded. “Stank rubs.”
“How long have you been here?”
He gripped me hard by the shoulders, his lip trembling. “Eternity.”
“Li
teral eternity or…?”
His fingers tightened even more. “Since you killed me.”
I felt the world tilting beneath me, time slowing down. My mouth went dry. “I killed you. In the gladiator ring?”
He stared down at me, the planes of his face growing more familiar.
“Who are you?” I stammered.
“Liora,” he whispered, his expression desperate, pleading.
“No. What’s your name?”
“Darkness. Mike.”
Panic gripped me. Mike—Mike from Eden. The boy I’d chased through the forest.
“What are you doing here?”
“I … a darkness….”
I swallowed hard. “Right. I killed you.”
He nodded, his grip loosening a little on my shoulders. “Nesting locks of dark. Throglint oak.” His eyes went wide, then he whispered in my ear, “Dick.”
I swore to the gods that before he’d been in the shadow hells, he’d made sense. This place had warped him completely. Nausea rose in my gut. I’d done this to him. I’d sent him here, and he’d completely lost his mind.
“Okay, Mike. It hasn’t been an eternity. More like a decade. I know it feels like an eternity.” I frowned. “I want to get you out of here.” I looked around the dark wood, searching for a way out. I didn’t see one.
Nyxobas hadn’t sealed me in here, had he?
“Any clues about how to get out?”
“Infestations demon Tznaia Amman roots, deathling open door. Darkness.” He was speaking a pidgin demon language. Gibberish.
Or was it gibberish?
“Please.” He kept his hands on my shoulders. “Miracle. Deathling.”
Deathling open door.
“Where is the door?” I asked.
“Deathling,” he repeated.
The gods of death had dominion over the dead. I could open the door.
I’d already seen that my own thoughts could influence the space around me. The less empty I felt, the more power I had. I closed my eyes, thinking of Ruadan and the floral crown he’d given me in Emain. This time, I rewrote the script, imagining that I’d taken the wreath from him. In this version of the story, I put the wreath on my head.
Warmth spread through my chest, and I stepped away from Demented Mike.
When I opened my eyes again, I felt Ruadan’s electrifying presence around me, and I smelled the scent of pine. I felt loved.
Then, I willed the ground before me to cleave open. Dark, churning waters rose from the forest soil, and a portal ripped open the forest floor.
I grabbed Demented Mike around the waist, and I pulled him into the water with me.
Chapter 111
Catching my breath in the air, I hoisted myself out of the freezing portal. I clawed my way onto the grass, then frantically turned to reach into the cold water for one of Mike’s long limbs. I grasped his arm, clutching on tight, and I dragged him out of the portal. He gasped, holding onto the portal’s grassy rim. Mike’s dark eyes were wide with wonder at the stars above us.
I tried to ignore the fact that I was completely starkers once more, and that all the male Shadow Fae were staring at me right now. I sat on the grass and folded my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
Aengus frowned at me, folding his arms. “Okay. Okay. So Nyxobas let you back. You’re not the traitor. Now, who the hells have you brought back with you? And must you always bring back these wretches from the hell worlds?”
“He’s an old and dear friend,” I said, conveniently omitting the part about that time I’d killed him and sent him to the shadow hell. I hugged my legs tightly to my chest.
From behind, I felt a sheet wrap around my body, and I looked up at Ruadan. It was him again, his eyes violet. The god of night had left us for now.
“Well,” said Aengus, “that’s the first one over.”
I glared at him. “Are you going to admit that you were wrong about me being a traitor and that you owe me an apology?”
Aengus rolled his eyes. “Fine.” His tone was exasperated. “I’m sorry I said you were a traitor and that we should rip out your entrails in a painful execution. You’re still an abomination, though, and I make no apologies for that view.” His forehead wrinkled with consternation. “Is it just me, or are the youth of today particularly sensitive about things? Snowflakes, the lot of you.”
With every interaction, I was starting to grow more certain that Aengus was the traitor. I fought the urge to just push him right into the portal and watch Nyxobas claim his soul.
Barry raised his hand. “Just to clarify, we don’t all need to go in, do we? I’m only a recruit, so obviously I’m not a part of this.”
“Everyone in the Institute,” said Aengus. “Until we find our traitor.”
Barry paled. It was, after all, a terrifying prospect to leap into a hell world where we were forced to reckon with past sins. Barry would probably be subject to a torturous Neanderthal routine.
I stood, holding the sheet tight around myself, and started to cross to Ruadan.
But as I took a step toward him, pale light began beaming from his eyes once more, and his tattoos slid over his powerful forearms, his chest, his muscled thighs. I tried not to think about how sexy he looked right now. The world of magic was always strange, but lusting after your lover while his grandfather’s spirit inhabited his body crossed some sort of line even for me.
Nyxobas-Ruadan shadow-leapt over to Aengus. The god grasped the knight by his throat and lifted him high in the air. Aengus’s clothes burned away from his body, leaving him completely naked.
Then, Nyxobas threw Aengus into the portal. Dark water splashed high into the air, shimmering with flecks of silver.
I stared as the watery surface calmed. Now, the moon and stars shone off its glassy surface.
I glanced at Mike, who was also nude, regretting that I didn’t have a sheet for him. Not that he seemed to mind. His hands were on his hips, proud as could be, and he strode through the flowers, whistling.
I looked at the portal again. It didn’t seem to be closing over with grass like I’d expected, trapping Aengus inside. I leaned over and skimmed my fingertips along the cold, glassy surface. It was black ice, and as I touched it, steam curled off.
Then, the ice cracked with a booming sound. Another enormous crack, and Aengus’s fist broke through the surface. Frantic, he grasped for the edge of the portal with one hand, punching another hole in the ice with the other.
I glanced at Ruadan. Nyxobas still imbued his body, and he seemed unmoved by this struggle. We weren’t supposed to help him, were we?
At last, he punched a hole big enough for his head and shoulders. His lips had gone blue, and he gasped for breath. Manically, he clawed and scrambled over the ice, until he flopped, naked, onto the grass.
He curled into the fetal position, hugging his knees to his chest. He was whispering something that sounded like trapped in the stone room, the same words over and over again. Then, “Shot through with iron arrows….”
I crossed my arms, looking down at him. I really wanted to gloat, but gloating about the misfortunes of someone already dying of the Plague seemed a bit tacky.
Barry gaped at him, pale as milk.
When I looked around at the other Shadow Fae, they looked just as terrified. But they looked ill, too. Most were too weak to stand, and sweat dampened their brows. Melusine’s throat bulged with swollen glands, and her eyes were closed.
My throat tightened. Would they survive a brutal trip into the void? Fever and disease were eating them alive.
Ruadan loomed over the portal—no longer filled with Nyxobas’s power, but still exuding dark magic. “As you see, Nyxobas has returned both Aengus and Liora. They are not our traitors. The god of night has left us for now, but he will return to test the rest of you when he sees fit. In the meantime, no one leaves the Institute.”
Niall’s teeth were chattering, and he coughed into his arm. “So what now? We just wait for Nyxobas to re
turn while we die of the Plague?”
I crossed to Ruadan, my bed sheet dragging over the wet grass. “No. Now we find my father, the angel of death, and he’s going to cure all of you.” I glanced at Ruadan. “But we should probably put some clothes on before I introduce you to my family for the first time.”
Melusine rubbed a swollen gland in her neck, wincing as if in pain. “If your father can cure us, why can’t you? You’re right here.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how. My father will.”
She coughed. “You could at least try. You have the same powers as your father, and you’re right here. What if we have to go through the trials while fever is killing us? Look at Aengus.”
Tension vibrated through my body. She simply didn’t understand how badly this could backfire. “I could make it worse. If I try to use my death angel powers, you could end up sicker. Trust me. Look, I promise we’ll be back quickly. We just need to get some clothing on, and we will be back within a few minutes with my dad.”
So why was it that I didn’t quite believe the words coming out of my own mouth?
“Liora is right,” said Ruadan. “It won’t take long. Asking Liora to experiment with her powers should be a last resort, undertaken only if we cannot find the Horseman or compel him to help us.”
Dread crawled up my neck. Why would we not be able to find him? Of course we’d find him. He’d be in Eden where I’d left him.
And yet … something about my time in the shadow void had seemed like a premonition. Those empty houses, standing like carcasses. Demented Mike had been trapped there. How many others had I consigned to one of the hells?
I locked the cage on my thoughts, refusing to dwell too long on my worst fears.
For the first time in over ten years, Ruadan was going to open a portal to my old home, and I’d see them again. My heart was ready to burst.
I could hardly breathe with the anticipation. When we broke through into Eden, my dad would be waiting for me. He’d pull me into a hug and call me Bug and tell me it wasn’t my fault. And that he’d brought my mother back, and that everything was fine.
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