by Everly Frost
Her focus shifts from me to the weapon in confusion. “How are you—?”
I say, “I’m not. Slade is.”
It’s his ringmaker power, his ability to control metal. I don’t have the strength to look behind me but I sense his power, the way it tugs at my wings just like his Mom’s did. He may not have healed enough to stride across the distance and pull the trigger with his hand, but he can use his mind.
My wings shoot wide and a final wash of my killing power strikes through me, that last of my power, releasing death through my hand into Amalia’s ankle where I clench my fist and refuse to let go.
She falls back, grabbing at my fingers, trying to free her ankle, but her legs are her weak point. I feel them now, bony and weak, decimated by the loss of her feather.
Her wings shoot wide, spreading in an attempt to lift herself away from me but my power sizzles through them, attacking the Keres feathers she so artfully attached to herself. They crackle and burn, peeling and dripping off her wings as she screams, tugs, and wrenches away from me.
Cain and Archer draw deep breaths behind me. I sense their movement as they jump to their feet now that Amalia’s power to hold onto their souls is gone.
She twists away from the gun that Slade repositions—remaining aimed perfectly at her heart no matter which way she turns.
I will not let her go. He will not miss.
I whisper, “I will never obey you.”
Slade squeezes the trigger.
The bullet hits her heart.
She jolts and gasps a breath. Copper light rips through her, and sears through me too. My power connects with it, the only shield that saves me from sudden and immediate death.
I’m thrown backward, thudding along the floor, my strength completely gone.
The light fades and Amalia collapses to the floor, her life consumed as quickly as the power that killed her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Slade’s gentle hands turn me over. My wings are still spread, falling across the floor, my silver feathers dull and lifeless.
He picks me up into his arms. “Hold on, Hunter. I’ve got you.”
Archer cries beside him, “Hurry, Slade. She doesn’t have long.”
Quiet concentration falls over his face. My back prickles, the faintest tug, and very slowly I float up out of his arms, my wings held at just the right angle to keep me upright. My head droops to my chest, but Slade’s power elevates me to the height of the feather.
He calls to me, “Take it, Hunter. Please, baby…”
The feather I need is right in front of me, so close, but my arms hang at my sides and not only because I have no strength to lift them.
Amalia wasn’t worthy.
I’m not either.
Surt remains where he is, not even a twitch of his fingers.
What gives me the right to take this feather?
I have killed. I am not pure. I have struggled with the darkness inside me. I have hated, I have sought revenge…
…and I have loved, protected, defended, sacrificed…
Mom left me with a message that darkness can be overcome but it doesn’t happen in an instant. It is not one act but many, a lifetime of decisions. I have a life ahead of me to fight the darkness.
I am not worthy and never will be, but I am prepared to accept a second chance.
I can’t move my fingers, instead, I lean into the feather, its soft tendrils brushing my neck and tickling my cheek.
The moment I touch it, the feather’s copper color fades. For a second it turns white before it transforms into silver—a beautiful Valkyrie birth feather hidden beneath the copper facade. The wisps cling to my cheek as if by static, meticulously drawing toward my face. It is as soft as silk as it melts across my cheekbone, down my jaw, along the base of my chin, and into my collarbone.
A wash of energy passes through me, a new warmth that ripples across my torso, making me tingle. The feeling returns to my legs, feet, arms, and hands, and every part of me comes alive.
The gap in my wings where I plucked out my feather begins to fill. A new feather forms to take its place, a perfect silver feather to heal my loss.
As I turn back to Slade, something clicks at the base of my spine, a shift inside me, and all I can think is that the spell that was cast over me when I was a baby, the one that stopped my wings from revealing themselves, must have broken.
I gently lower myself to the floor, folding away my wings, and step into Slade’s open arms. I lower my head to his shoulder, curling into him as he hugs me tight. Tilting my face to his, I press the gentlest kiss to his bruised jaw.
He must still be healing but his response is fierce. “I don’t care about the pain. You’re alive.” He presses his lips to mine and kisses me until I’m breathless, all his fear for me finally leaving his body.
I come up for air to find Archer openly crying, a huge smile on her face as she leans into Cain.
He drops kisses across her cheek, kissing away her tears. “It’s your turn now.”
She tilts her head back. “I’m going to need a little help.”
He gives her a lazy grin before he hoists her up onto his shoulder, where she sits, balancing while he carries her to the feather with the silver facade.
Maintaining her balance on his shoulder, she unclasps her protective suit and peels it off one arm, which she holds upright against the feather. At her touch, it transforms like mine did, revealing its true copper color beneath. She waits patiently for the tendrils to wrap around her forearm. The feather nestles against her skin, softly molding itself to her muscles before it melts into her body.
She gasps, rolls her shoulders, and closes her eyes, inhaling a slow breath. “Oh… so that’s what wings are supposed to feel like…”
Cain turns his head to drop a kiss against her thigh, reaching up to clasp her arms and torso securely and swing her down to the floor.
“Try them,” he says with a smile.
She steps into a clear space, her forehead crinkling as she rolls her shoulders again. Copper wings gradually unfurl from her back, stretching out wide beside her. They are as brilliant as they were when she opened them to let us into the maze.
Archer’s radiant smile makes her glow. She bites her lip as she looks at Cain.
He takes a step toward her but stops himself, appearing uncertain for the first time. He asks, “May I?”
She answers him by catapulting into his arms, wrapping her wings around them both, cocooning them so that they disappear from sight.
My heart lifts. “Archer is finally free from the threat of her wings.”
“And you are free to live,” Slade murmurs.
I wrap my arms around him and sink into the warmth and acceptance I find there.
“We are both free to live,” I say as he strokes my hair.
Except that there might be more than two of us now. In the fight for survival, I pushed aside the possibility that Amalia’s claim might be true—that I could be pregnant. It’s hard for me to believe anything she said. Her goal was always to manipulate the outcome for her own benefit. Even so, if it’s a possibility, then Slade needs to know.
Before I can speak, a figure appears at the open entrance to the hall—a young girl dressed in an emerald gown. She is a picture of grace, masses of dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes a gorgeous hazel color. For a second I think it’s Amalia—that she has somehow been resurrected—and my reflexes kick in.
I pull Slade toward Archer and Cain, calling for them. They are immediately alert, emerging from Archer’s wings to face this new challenge.
The girl stops halfway to us, both hands raised in a gesture of peace. “I have come for my mother.”
I blink at her, then frown. I finally recognize her from Amalia’s memory. “You’re Elaina.”
She gives me a quick nod. “When my mother called the Valkyrie army back from the dead, she brought me back, too. I don’t think she realized it.”
Elaina d
oesn’t encroach on our space, remaining where she is. She says, “I didn’t take part in the fight just now. I never agreed with my mother’s actions. In fact, at the end of my life, General Glass was my only friend. Still, I want to carry my mother to the End Land where she can rest.”
I step aside. I don’t sense any threat from this girl. Slade gives me a nod of agreement too.
Without another word, Elaina crosses the distance to kneel beside her mother, smoothing out her hair and tucking the remains of Amalia’s wings to her sides, before wrapping her arms around her.
She grips her mother’s body and spreads her own wings, rising gently into the air before she carries Amalia away.
They disappear through the entrance, leaving a pensive silence. Amalia is finally gone.
All I want now is to leave the maze, to find out if Vlad and Tansy are okay, and to return to Saber Lane and the bookshop.
“Do you think we will have to fight our way out of here?” I ask Slade.
Surt’s voice rumbles behind us. “I will show you the way out. But only after I speak with my daughter.”
I stumble back in shock as he shifts his sword to the side, driving its tip into a slot in the floor on the left of his throne. He raises himself up out of the chair. At full height, he is as tall as Vlad and just as broad in the chest. He sweeps his thick hair out of his eyes, revealing his face for the first time.
His two violet eyes focus on Archer.
She freezes in shock. “You can’t be… how can you be…?”
“Daughter,” he says. “You look a little like your mother, but mostly like me.”
Archer shakes her head. “No. This is… not possible…”
He laughs, but it is a gentle sound. “Your mother was rebellious. She was supposed to remain outside the maze, guarding it from the creatures that sought to enter. But not many creatures know about the maze now. Over time, she grew bored. One day, she ventured inside. I didn’t meet her that day. Or the next. I didn’t meet her until she figured out the shortcut to my castle.”
My face falls. I can’t believe what he just said. “You’re telling us there’s a shortcut?”
He tilts his head toward me in a gentle nod. “Do not be dismayed. It took her years to find it. Then… she found me.”
Archer waves her hand at Surt in disbelief. “But you… you could have killed her.”
He shakes his head. “She never tried to take a feather. All she did was answer my questions. Each day I asked her a new one and she always answered truthfully. Then one day, she started asking me questions.”
He falls silent. Then, quietly: “One day, she didn’t come back.”
Archer approaches him cautiously. “Did you know about me?”
He nods. “You were born here. She wanted to stay in the maze with me, but I am bound to this place until the end of days. What kind of life would it be for a child to be raised in a place filled with monsters?”
Archer gives a cry, her hand flying over her mouth. “But don’t you see? It happened anyway. Human monsters surrounded me, not mythological ones.”
He lowers his sad eyes to her. “I am sorry for your pain, daughter. From what I see, you are no longer surrounded by such people.”
She stares back at him, brushing the tears from her eyes. “This is a lot to process.”
He nods. “You must leave now, because you have already been here for a long time, but you can come back and see me again. You can ask me all the questions you want and I will answer you.”
“I…” She turns to Cain. It’s a long way for her to travel, but he nods immediately.
He says, “Whatever you need. We will make it happen.”
She turns to the man who claims to be her father, studying his features. “Something tells me you aren’t the hugging type.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I am not.”
“Then I will come back with questions.”
Surt smiles. “Let me show you the way out.”
We follow him to the back of the room and a hidden door that he accesses by touching a sequence of bricks. Outside, a single staircase leads upward into the mist.
Surt says, “These steps will take you back to the entrance. Next time, when you enter the maze, step off the bridge immediately to your left and you will find these stairs again.”
Archer and Cain ascend the staircase first while Slade and I follow.
It’s a lot for me to take in, let alone for Archer. She moves like she’s wading through water, still in shock. When I found out that Ridley was my father, I cried for hours. It took time to think it through. It will take Archer time, too. Probably more so because her father turns out to be a mythological killer of gods.
I peer up at Surt as I pass him, stopping at the last moment. “You said that you are destined to destroy the world. Did you mean that literally?”
He tilts his head as he answers me. “There are many worlds in this place, Hunter Cassidy. There are worlds within worlds. I have already destroyed hundreds of them. Now, go in peace.”
I take Slade’s hand, drawing free breaths as we climb the stairs.
When I meet Archer halfway up, Slade and Cain go on ahead, giving us space. They glance back every now and then to make sure we are okay. Surt indicated that we would be safe now, but we aren’t taking anything for granted until we leave this place.
Archer chews her lip, speaking carefully. “What am I supposed to make of all that?”
I squeeze her hand. “Take your time. Feel what you need to feel.”
She says, “It could explain why I’m stronger than most of my species.”
I smile. “Or you could be stronger because you made yourself stronger. I don’t think you can give Surt credit for it.”
She returns my smile and pauses briefly to stare out across the maze. From here, we can see everything: the floating castle immediately below us, the diamond tunnels that we walked into unawares, and the burning plain stretching out between them. The armies are gone now, descended back into the ash, leaving the field quiet. Each way we look, there are different pathways, different choices. The path we chose was only one.
She points into the far distance to the World Tree whose branches stretch high into the sky. “I didn’t realize what I felt, but when we stood on the branches of that tree, I sensed…” She shrugs, visibly grappling with how to describe her feelings. “I sensed other places.”
She points to the left of the tree, “Over there is another world—filled with people who look like us, live like us, but they heal even faster than Slade does. You’d think they would be happy but they aren’t. There is a war coming to their world.”
I stare at her. “You can see that?”
She shrugs. “No matter what you say about my strength being my own, this is definitely something I get from my father.”
She turns and points in the other direction. “Over there is a world that is so bright, so perfect, that it can’t be real, because nothing can be that perfect.”
“You are,” Cain’s voice rumbles behind her.
She gives him a smile that lights up her eyes, taking his hand again.
Slade reaches for me and I allow myself to feel the peace of this moment, of his hand in mine and the way his eyes change when he looks at me, the quiet heat that makes me wish we were alone right now.
I return his smile as the copper sun sinks below the horizon and we make our way out of the maze.
Chapter Forty
The clearing outside the maze is peaceful, quiet. It’s strange to see the afternoon sunlight, golden and crisp like it should be, filtering through the leaves overhead. It looks different somehow, brighter, greener, and the air is warmer than I expected.
A lone figure sits on a fold-up chair beneath the spreading branches, a picnic basket at her side with a bunch of flowers spilling from its edge, and her spellbook resting on her lap.
Tansy’s head shoots up the moment we step through the entry. She darts out of her chair,
dropping her book onto the forest floor as she races toward us. “Hunter! Archer!”
“Tansy!” I hug her as she reaches us, pulling Archer into our hug, tears washing down her cheeks. She smiles through them. “You’re back. You’re really back.”
I return her smile. “We made it. It worked. Archer has her wings and I have my life.”
“What about Amalia?” Tansy’s expression becomes stern and worried for a moment.
“She’s dead,” Slade says. “She will never hurt us again.”
“But what about Vlad?” I ask Tansy. “Please tell me he’s okay.”
Tansy speaks in a rush, seeming unable to answer me fast enough. “He’s fine. Completely healed. Actually, he’s due here any minute. We’ve been taking it in turns watching for your return. Not just Vlad and me, but the Guardian too. She was here for a few days, and then Ridley. He nearly refused to leave but he had to get back to the Legion. Lutz went south to make sure Parker was okay and—”
“Wait, slow down… I’m confused…” I glance at the others, wondering whether I heard Tansy correctly. Cain, Slade, and Archer shuffle around me, wearing identical frowns.
“You said the Guardian was here for a few days,” I say. “But we left yesterday.”
She studies me for a moment. “You’ve been gone for a month.”
“A month?”
She nods emphatically. “I nearly lost my mind with worry in that first week. Ridley practically tore up this whole area trying to get inside the maze. But Vlad…” She sighs and bites her lip. “His unemotional nature was a benefit to all of us. He said you were too stubborn to die. We couldn’t disagree with him.”
Laughter bursts from me, a mix of happy and sad. “Oh, Tansy. I’m so sorry you were worried. It wasn’t easy and we almost didn’t make it, but we’re here.”
She smiles, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m really happy to see you.”
