“Oh.” Mira frowned.
“We were attacked,” I continued. “He and I fought the griffin.”
“I know what happened,” she said. “I was there, too.”
Guilt flooded through me. “I know,” I said. “But it was a dream. I’m sorry. I don’t remember much beyond that.”
Lies.
Sort of. Because hallucinations were similar to dreams. I just remembered this hallucination a lot more clearly than a dream. Almost like it had actually happened.
My heart ached again at the memories.
No. Not memories.
Hallucinations.
I couldn’t allow myself to think anything else. It would hurt too badly. Those weeks with Ethan were a figment of my imagination.
I’d never get my Ethan back.
Living with the hope of anything else would break me.
“Fine,” Mira said. “Sorry for snapping. It’s just… the way you were saying his name…”
“What?” I could barely get the word out.
“It’s nothing.” She shook it off and pasted on a small smile. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
I nodded, even though it definitely wasn’t nothing. I knew it, and I had a sense that Mira knew it, too.
But Mira and Harper needed to sleep. I could use some sleep—some actual sleep, not drugged up hallucination sleep—too.
So we lit a fire, gathered leaves to create makeshift, lumpy mattresses, and didn’t speak of my dream again.
36
Gemma
Thankfully, I didn’t dream that night.
When I woke up, my cat was curled up next to me, and the moon was still in the same place in the sky. I had no idea what time it was—or if time passed on Moon Mountain at all.
At least I felt rested. My elemental magic was still muted, but my witch magic felt stronger than it had before.
I’d heard it said that if someone lost one of their senses, their other senses became stronger. Maybe that was what was happening with my witch magic.
Unable to fall back asleep, I rubbed my eyes and sat up. The leaves crinkled beneath me, and I removed the ones that had gotten pressed onto my skin during the night.
Mira and Harper stirred at my movements and woke up, too. Mira was slow to wake, but Harper was up in an instant.
Leaves dangled in her long black hair, but she didn’t seem to notice or care. “Look.” She smiled and pointed at the fire. “Hecate’s looking out for us.”
A basket of breads, meats, and cheeses sat by the fire. My stomach rumbled, and we rushed toward the basket and dug in. Each bite filled me with energy, like the food was full of magic. We shared bits of the meat with our cats, too.
Once all the food was gone, we sat back and drank from the water bladders that had been next to the basket.
No matter how much I drank, the water bladder remained full.
“I didn’t know witch magic could do this,” I said as my water bladder refilled itself again.
“It’s not a spell I’ve ever heard of,” Harper said. “But Hecate’s the embodiment of magic. She can do spells far beyond the skills of witches and mages.”
Mira took another swig of water. “Must be nice,” she said.
We sat there in silence and stared up at the palace. We were about halfway up the mountain, or maybe more, since the winding path shrank in diameter as we made our way up.
“How are you feeling?” Harper asked me.
“Better,” I said. “Thanks.”
She nodded, satisfied, then stood up and brushed breadcrumbs off her pants. Our Haven whites weren’t so white anymore, thanks to our night sleeping on the dirt. I rubbed off the dirt that I could, but it was pretty hopeless.
Not that we had anyone around here to impress, anyway.
Harper opened her water bladder and dumped the water over the fire, snuffing it out.
Smoke drifted up from it, and I stared sadly at the charred sticks and logs. Because I should have been able to feel the fire with my magic. But there was nothing there.
“Your elemental magic’s still blocked?” Harper asked.
“Yep.” I didn’t look away from the smoke.
“Bummer.”
Mira faced the path she’d gone down yesterday—the one with the healing herbs. “We should keep going,” she said. “The faster we get to the top of the mountain, the sooner we can get back to the Haven.”
And the sooner we’ll get back to Ethan.
I imagined running up to him and kissing him, and how he’d smile at me with pure happiness, like I lit up his world.
No, I reminded myself. Ethan will kiss Mira when we return to the Haven—not me. I’ll be basically a stranger to him.
My chest hollowed at the thought of him looking at me like he didn’t know me—of the lack of affection I’d see in his eyes. It was like someone had carved out a piece of my heart, and I felt the hole with every breath I took.
Will the pain ever go away?
It had to. Because Ethan had chosen Mira. I was the one who didn’t fit into the equation.
I never would.
Another wave of pain crashed through me. All I wanted was to curl into a ball and cry. Or better yet—fall asleep and wake up in my Ethan’s arms.
“You okay?” Mira asked me.
“Yeah.” I shook away my thoughts of Ethan and met her eyes. “Why?”
“You look like you just saw a ghost.”
My stomach dropped. Because that was what my memories of Ethan were—a ghost. No, not even that. Because ghosts had once been alive. The love that Ethan and I had shared was a figment of my imagination.
Hopefully the memories—and the pain they brought me—would fade in time. If not, perhaps I could drink memory potion when we were back at the Haven. I wasn’t sure if memory potion could erase memories of something that hadn’t actually happened, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
In the meantime, I needed to focus on the task at hand—finishing the hike up to Hecate’s Eternal Library.
And I refused to let my dream of Ethan distract me from completing that mission.
37
Gemma
We walked a few kilometers, and the mist intensified up ahead.
It swirled like an angry storm cloud and came together until it was about the size of a door. It thickened until it was impossible to see through, then solidified into a naked woman with three heads.
One of the heads was a dog—a hound. The other was a horse. And the final one was a serpent.
All six eyes zeroed in on us, and they looked hungry.
I grabbed the handle of my sword, yanked it out of the holster, and held it out in front of me.
“What are you doing?” Harper hissed.
“Preparing to defend us.”
“But that’s Hecate.”
“That’s not Hecate.” I stayed focused on the creature. Either Harper was blind, or I was hallucinating again. “That’s a monster.”
The dog growled, the horse bared its teeth, and the snake hissed.
Mira also reached for her sword. She was shaking, and she gripped the handle so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
“Stop,” Harper said. “We shouldn’t—”
The monster rushed toward us, and we hurried out of the way just in time.
Harper and Mira went left, and I went right.
The monster spun around, dirt flying up from underneath its feet. The dog and horse snarled at us, and the snake hissed again, its forked tongue sliding in and out.
I glanced at Harper and Mira to try to see what they were thinking, while also keeping an eye on the monster.
Mira stood behind Harper, scared. But Harper held up her sword and stared determinedly at the monster, as if sizing up the best angle of attack.
She glanced at me and nodded.
It was go-time.
Harper and I ran at the monster and swung our blades toward its mid-section. But the monster was quick—it did a front flip over our
swords and landed on the other side.
I spun and swung again, but it dodged my blade.
Each time we swung at the monster, it danced around us, moving in a blur. I followed all of Raven’s instructions, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t land a blow.
And while the monster was moving fast, it wasn’t trying to bite us.
Did it not want to harm us?
Each time I paused, thinking it might end up being peaceful like the wolf, it rushed at me again.
Clearly not peaceful.
Sweat poured from my brow. I did my best to steady my breathing, grateful for all the high intensity interval training Raven had put us through during our time at the Haven. The supernatural strength I’d gotten during the ascension ceremony had surely expedited my training progress, too.
Harper and I kept at it, although neither of us could get in a strike.
Suddenly, another sword came out of nowhere and sliced through the monster’s midsection.
All three of its mouths opened in surprise, and it dissolved into mist.
The mist spread out, revealing Mira. She held onto her sword, staring at it in shock.
“You did it.” I dropped my sword and pounced on her, engulfing her in a hug.
“Ew.” She backed away, her nose scrunched in disgust. “You’re drenched in sweat.”
I laughed like it was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. Because sure enough, her clothes were damp where I’d been touching them.
“That was awesome,” Harper said to Mira. “I thought you were just gonna hang back and let me and Gemma do the hard work. But no—you showed that monster what you were made of.”
“I had no choice.” Mira shrugged. “You and Gemma clearly weren’t getting anywhere.”
“Or your joining in was part of the test,” I suggested. “Because it was impossible to beat that thing until you jumped in.”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “Or maybe I’m better with a sword than you give me credit for.”
Harper glanced at me, because we both knew Mira wasn’t better with a sword than either of us. “You blended into the background, got the monster to think you weren’t a threat, then attacked when it wasn’t expecting it,” she said to Mira. “Smart strategy.”
“Thanks.” Mira shook out her hair and smiled.
She definitely hadn’t intended it to be strategy, but it made her happy to let us think it, so I wasn’t going to argue.
“Want to take a rest to cool off?” Harper asked.
“I’m ready to keep going if you are,” I said.
“I’m always ready.”
“Me, too,” said Mira, even though she’d barely exerted herself during the fight.
Our cats must have agreed, because they jumped out of the mist and continued walking down the path. They didn’t even look behind to make sure we were following. It was like they knew we were there.
Eventually, after a few more kilometers, something else took shape in the mist.
Horses. Three of them.
They were the most magnificent horses I’d ever seen. Swirling galaxies of purple stars dotted their silky black fur, making them look like the embodiment of night. Silver streaked their tails and manes, and their eyes glowed white like the moon.
They watched us patiently, then walked toward us. The one in front of me lowered her head and nuzzled my arm.
Get on, she seemed to be saying.
“Have you ridden a horse before?” I asked Harper, since I already knew Mira had just as much horse riding experience as I did.
None.
“Did you see any horses in Utopia?” Harper’s eyes saddened after saying the name of her now-destroyed kingdom.
“Nope.”
Mira ran her fingers through her horse’s mane. “They’re gentle,” she said. “It can’t be any harder than riding a surfboard.”
“Maybe,” I said, not convinced. Because surfboards were things. Horses were living creatures.
Hopefully I’d fair better on a horse than on a surfboard. But probably not. Because if I thought surfboards were unpredictable, what was going to happen with a horse that could throw me off its back at any moment?
Mira jumped, swung one leg over her horse’s back, and landed gracefully on it. “That was easy.” She grinned and shook her hair out. “Just do what I did.”
Harper walked to her horse’s side and easily mirrored Mira’s movements.
My horse huffed, like she was asking what I was waiting for.
I ran my fingers along the side of her face. Her fur was supernaturally soft, like silk. Magic poured off her, its warmth entering my fingertips and spreading through my body.
“Come on,” Mira said. “We don’t have all day.”
I moved to stand on my horse’s side and took a deep breath. Her back was higher than my head. How had Mira and Harper jumped up there so easily?
Supernatural strength, I reminded myself. You’ve got this.
But supernatural strength didn’t make up for my hesitation, or for the clunky sword hanging by my side.
First I didn’t jump high enough. Then the sword banged against my knee, catching me off-guard and knocking me down to the ground.
I fell down on my butt, and Mira laughed.
I glared at her, and she pressed her lips together, still smiling. So I stood up, wiped the dirt off my backside, and jumped with no hesitation.
I swung my leg up—this time aware of my sword—landed on the horse’s back, and wrapped my arms around her neck to steady myself. I was nowhere near as graceful as Mira or Harper, but at least I’d gotten up there.
Why could I move better with a sword than Mira, but not jump onto a horse?
I didn’t have time to think about it, because my horse turned around to face forward, and then we were off.
38
Gemma
I held onto my horse’s mane for dear life, but the ride was surprisingly smooth. It was like she was running on air.
I glanced over at Mira and Harper, saw that their horses’ hooves were a few centimeters above the ground, and realized they were running on air.
A thrill passed through me at the amazingness of Hecate’s magic, and I settled into my horse’s back to enjoy the ride. Before I knew it, we broke past the cloud line. We were so close to the crystal palace that I had to crane my neck up to look at it, and the moon was so huge that it took over the night sky.
As I was taking in the palace’s beauty, my horse slowed to a stop. Mira’s and Harper’s did, too.
“Do you need water?” I asked the horse gently. “Food?”
It neighed and shook out its silvery mane. Then, the three cats jumped down onto the path—I had no idea where they’d come from—looked at us, and meowed.
“I think this is as far as the horses will take us,” Mira said.
Her horse bobbed its head up and down, as if nodding to say Mira was right.
Mira jumped off gracefully, landing like the earth was a cloud beneath her feet. Harper did the same. I looked down at the ground, more ready than ever to get back on it.
The dirt welcomed my feet, cushioning my landing.
I stroked my horse’s cheek, said goodbye, and joined Mira and Harper in the middle of the path. Our cats walked up to us and nuzzled our ankles. Magic flowed through me, and while I couldn’t see the magic, I could somehow feel that it was silver.
Our horses ran by us and flew into the sky. The stars on their black coats twinkled, their bodies became transparent, and then, they were one with the night.
I reached for the handle of my sword, as if making sure it was still there, then glanced back up at the crystal palace. “Looks like it shouldn’t be much longer,” I said.
“Depending on how many more roadblocks Hecate throws our way,” Harper said.
Mira and I nodded, and we continued walking forward along the path. As we walked, Harper quizzed us on spells and potions we’d learned in Utopia. I did better on the questions about spells, an
d Mira did better on the ones about potions.
I’d always thought potions were boring… until I’d needed one after the nightshade. When we got back to the Haven, I planned on practicing more.
Eventually, we turned around a bend and reached the end of the path.
Except it wasn’t the true end. Because the path continued into a dark, gaping cave that led into the mountain.
Two tall, matching pillars of a beautiful woman stood on the sides of the cave’s entrance. The woman had hair as long as Harper’s, and the triple goddess symbol—the full moon surrounded by two crescent moons—was etched on her forehead. Her stone eyes glowed white, like all the animals we’d encountered so far.
Three lit torches waited on the ground between the pillars. Assuming they were for us, I walked forward and picked one of them up.
“Gemma,” Mira hissed. “What if that was a trap?”
“It’s not.” I shrugged and spun back around to look into the cave. It was dark inside, although starry lights that reminded me of Utopia’s glowworms twinkled along the ceiling.
“You had no way of knowing that,” she said.
“The torches were left for us by Hecate,” I said. “They’re here so we can continue down the path that’ll lead us to the library.”
“How do you know that?” My twin’s eyes narrowed into slits.
“I’m not sure,” I said, since I’d spoken without having to think. “I just do.”
“You’re connected to the goddess.” Harper picked up a torch. “I feel her magic, too.”
Mira stomped toward the final torch and grudgingly picked it up. “How come I don’t feel it?” she asked.
“You need to open your mind to her magic,” Harper said. “Let it flow through you.”
Mira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She stayed like that, completely still, for a few seconds. Then, she opened her eyes.
“Do you feel it now?” I asked.
“A bit,” she said. “It feels… silver. I’m not sure if that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.” I smiled, glad that my twin was getting better at this.
The Dragon Twins (Dark World: The Dragon Twins Book 1) Page 14
