Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
My laugh comes out in a snort. “But there’s no magic here,” I say. “Where did it come from?”
He gathers me against his side and smiles. I’ve never seen him look so happy. “I think we were wrong about this place. Magic isn’t gone here. It’s just different—detached from us.”
“Sometimes different is good,” I whisper.
“I’d have to agree.” He presses his lips to the top of my head and breathes me in. “We should sleep.”
My breath catches as I remember my dream of Lark. I’d planned to tell Finn about it this morning, but with the attack on the camp and Kane’s injuries, I’d completely forgotten. “Lark visited my dream last night.”
“She did?”
“She said something about a white-eyed monster saving me?” I shake my head, not remembering clearly. “Maybe it was metaphorical. What would a white-eyed monster symbolize to her?”
He hums. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure she thinks like that.”
“Maybe not. But that wasn’t the part of the dream that has me worried. She said she was tired, and she faded away from my dream before we were done talking. I think . . .”
“You think she’s going to fall into the Long Sleep?” he asks.
I hug him tightly. “I hope not.”
“Pretha hasn’t let herself think of it. That’s part of why she left Lark at Castle Craige. Being an Unseelie child is so dangerous right now, she wanted to focus on Lark’s Wild Fae blood.”
“Tomorrow we see Mab,” I say. “That’s the best we can do for her right now.”
He tenses for a beat, then relaxes again. “I think so. I know it won’t be easy, but I believe she’ll have the answers we need. I haven’t felt this hopeful in a long time.”
“So why now?” I ask. “What’s changed to make brooding Finn feel hopeful?”
He presses another kiss to the top of my head. “We have you now, Princess.”
“Still with that nickname?” I smile. “I thought you would’ve figured it out by now. I’m not a princess. I never was.”
“I know,” he whispers into my hair. His lips brush my temple, just a ghost of a kiss, but the warmth laps over me like a summer tide rolling to shore. “I know that’s not who you really are. I think I knew it the first time I saw you. You’re no princess. You’re my queen.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The portal is exactly where we were told it would be: in the cave beneath the roots of the Mother Willow at the northernmost peak of the Goblin Mountains.
It took us less than an hour to hike here this morning and find it, and less than thirty seconds to slice our palms open, mix our blood together, and open it. Shivering, I stare into the murky darkness awaiting us on the other side of this ring of light.
I woke up so content and hopeful, with Finn’s arms wrapped around me, that until this moment I forgot to be afraid. Forgot that we would be stepping into an unknown world where we will face dangerous creatures, where we will be judged, and where we’ll be locked forever if we’re found lacking.
I can’t let myself look at Finn. He’s a reminder of what I could lose if this all goes to hell. Instead, I focus on the memories of those sleeping children and walk through the glowing ring and into the gloom.
Finn follows, coming to stand at my side. The Underworld is full of mist and shadow. Typically, I would feel right at home in a place like this, with plenty of opportunities to hide and sneak around, but every inch of me screams that I don’t belong here. The portal is a beacon of light behind us, and every inch of my being wants to turn around—to reassure myself that it’s there, that we can get back out—but I recall Juliana’s words. If Mab needs me to prove that I will persevere, then I will. I force myself to face forward.
Finn offers his hand, palm up, and I consider refusing for a moment. I’m not ready to reveal my weaknesses to anyone or anything that might be watching. But we’re stronger together—down here and everywhere else—so I take it, and he gives it a single, firm squeeze and we begin walking.
The ground creaks, and the sky moans. The earth shifts on either side of us, surging up to form mountains—and a path between them.
“I guess we’re going this way,” Finn says softly.
This time I squeeze his hand, and we walk silently down the newly formed corridor. With every step, the light from the portal behind us dims, but we don’t dare look back. We don’t even speak of it. The only sound is the wind in this unnatural tunnel and the rocks shifting beneath our boots as we walk.
“I’ve been here before,” I whisper. The wind carries my words in circles around our heads, and they repeat three times, softer and softer before falling away. “The time my mother took me to the beach. We came here.”