by Linsey Hall
A knock sounded, then it pushed open. Elara appeared. “You’re already ready to go?”
I nodded, and she gave me a suspicious look. If she sensed that we’d broken out, she didn’t indicate it.
“Well, I am to bring you to the potion master.”
I nodded, pinching my lips.
She led us down the stairs and back past the guards, who had reappeared at their posts.
Had thirty minutes truly passed? I must have spent more time freaking out than I realized.
Instead of going to the throne room, Elara led us to the back of the castle, where a tiny Fae woman worked in an enormous room full of potion ingredients and all the bits and bobs required for potion sorcery.
“Kerina has the potion that will allow you to rejoin your bodies if you are able to find them,” Elara said.
Kerina looked up from where she was mixing something in a small silver cauldron. Her lavender hair was piled on top of her head and her green eyes glinted brightly. The silver smock she wore protected a yellow gown, and it was an eye-watering combination.
“That’s not all the potion does,” Kerina said. “It will alter your blood, imbuing it with spells that I have created. As soon as your body and soul are joined, you will be transported to your next destination—where you will try to obtain the Aranthian Crystal. But you will only have a short time on earth before you are transported back here.”
“On earth?” I asked. “Is that where the crystal is kept?”
Kerina nodded. “Indeed. The king and queen cannot go there of course. But you can—for a short while, as long as you have drunk the potion.”
“How long will we have there?” Tarron asked.
“Two hours, give or take.”
“And we have to take this potion?” I asked.
“You do, or your soul will never join with your body. But you must take the potion within the first few seconds of your death, or it will not work. If your body goes brain dead, it will stay that way.”
Fine, fair enough. “So, let me get this straight. We drink the potion and our soul merges with our body. Then we are sucked through the ether to the second destination, where we get two hours to find the Aranthian Crystal.”
“And if we don’t manage it in time?” Tarron asked.
“Poof!” Elara made an explosion gesture with her hands. “That will be your life. Well, what was your life.”
“We’ll succeed,” Tarron said.
“Good.” Kerina stirred the spoon in the little silver cauldron, then tapped it on the edge. “The potion is just now complete. We’ll send you back to the time of your death.”
Kerina packed up the two small vials, then handed them to us. “Don’t lose these. They’re the only two you’ll get.”
I nodded.
She stepped back and picked up a silver dagger. With her other hand, she sprinkled a fine silver powder on the ground. Her movements were elegant as she drew a symbol in the air with a dagger, and I realized I’d like to spend a few hours picking her brain about her work. This was right up my alley—or it would be, if I could get back to my normal life.
The air shimmered with silver light, and magic sparked on the air. My insides began to tremble, and I swallowed hard, not liking this a bit. Unease shivered across my skin.
The silver air flashed bright.
“Go!” Kerina said.
I reached for Tarron’s hand, forgetting for a moment that it was pointless. Our shadowy forms brushed warmly against each other, and that was as good as it was going to get.
Together, we stepped into the portal.
The ether sucked me in, spinning me faster and harder than it ever had. My mind blacked out and my stomach pitched. I fought to stay conscious as the portal sent us back through time and space.
When I stumbled into the Seelie Kingdom, my ears were ringing and my skin was covered with cold sweat. I stumbled, blinking blindly as my vision cleared.
In a split-second, I took it all in.
Tarron stood next to me. The sounds of battle raged all around—screams and shouts, the clash of swords and the blast of explosions.
Heat singed my skin from the burning buildings, and I stumbled away from them. The false queen had already released her Eternal Flame, and it was roaring through the kingdom, lighting the gorgeous buildings on fire. All around, Seelie fought Unseelie, swords flashing silver and magic bright in the air.
High above, the platform hovered in the sky. Terrified Seelie—those who were too old or weak to fight—looked down upon the battle with pale faces and terrified eyes.
My mind buzzed with horror to be back there.
Tarron pointed. “There we are!”
I spotted us, on the ground near a building, away from the worst of the battle that was congregated around the false queen.
But where was Aeri?
I couldn’t see her.
I had to warn her about her upcoming abduction, but I couldn’t see her.
There! She fought a troop of Unseelie and was at least fifty yards away. Too far. I’d never make it to her in time.
On the other side of the battlefield, Claire sprinted toward my mother, dark hair flying around her head.
The false queen shrieked and turned on Claire, raising her hands and sending a blast of energy right at my friend. It shot through the air, brilliant blue, and hit her dead on, lighting her up like a torch.
Claire glowed with a bright white light, her eyes gleaming like diamonds. She looked almost like the sun, but in human form.
Holy shit, I’d never seen Claire like that before.
What was going on?
Claire shrieked, a sound that could break glass, then raised her hands. She shot a bolt of white light right at the false queen. It hit her so hard that it sent her flying fifty yards in the other direction.
Holy fates, that’s how she had been so grievously injured.
Claire had done it.
With a magic I’d never seen before.
I shook my head, shocked.
Tarron grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. “Come on. There’s no time to spare.”
His words pulled me back to the present, to the task at hand.
We had to get our bodies back.
I spotted us through the crowd of fighters, kneeling on the ground. It looked just like the vision that had haunted me for days—me weeping, my hands wrapped around the hilt of a blade. Tarron’s hands clutched the hilt as well, and the tip was pointed toward his chest.
He was about to do it. About to shove it into his heart.
“Come on!” My Tarron—the one standing next to me—sprinted forward.
I followed, drawing my sword. There were Unseelie between us and our goal, and they turned, their eyes widening at the sight of us.
“They can see us!” I shouted. I’d been unsure of that—if we’d appear as ghosts or if we’d be able to fight them.
Tarron drew his blade, and his wings appeared. He launched himself into the sky, and the two Unseelie did as well. They clashed in midair, swords ringing.
That answered my question. Whatever had been in Kerina’s potion, it allowed us to fight those still on earth.
I called upon my wings, feeling them flare out from my back. I leapt into the air, flying high and joining Tarron. Wind whipped through my hair, and my heart thundered.
Tarron shot a blast of sunlight at the two Unseelie, and they tumbled back, screaming. Quick as a flash, two more took their place. One of them raised a hand and shot a massive ball of fire right at me. I braced myself for it, letting my new magic rise inside me.
It surged to life, stronger than ever. The fireball slammed into me, but my magic reflected it back. The blast of fire smashed into my attacker, sending him spiraling through the air.
Tarron took out the one who attacked him with a well-placed sword blow.
“We’re about to do it!” I shouted, my eyes on the past versions of ourselves only fifty yards away.
The other vers
ion of me was sobbing so hard that there was no way she’d see me flying here. The other version of Tarron was dry-eyed, however, and if he looked up, he’d get the shock of a lifetime.
We couldn’t change the time line. If he saw us, he might do something.
“We need to get low!” I shouted. “Where they can’t see us!”
Tarron and I flew to the ground and landed in a run. There were a few Unseelie between us and our former selves, but we were running out of time to fight them all.
Burn appeared to my right, his muzzle coated with blood and his thorny hide singed with burns.
His eyes went between the old versions of Tarron and me and the current versions. He gave a confused yip, then crouched low.
Shit.
I hadn’t planned on a confused Thorn Wolf.
I pointed to the Unseelie. “Get them!”
That was all Burn needed. He growled and charged, scattering the Unseelie like bowling balls.
There was no one standing between us and our goal now.
The past versions of Tarron and me still knelt on the ground. He shoved the blade into his heart.
I stumbled, horrified.
It was just as I remembered, but watching it from a distance didn’t lessen the horror.
His magic blasted out of him, the enchanted dagger releasing all the royal magic that made him so powerful.
Oh shit.
That power would knock out all Fae in the vicinity. It could knock us out as well.
“Find cover!” I shouted.
Tarron seemed to realize the same thing at the same time. We lunged toward a narrow alley between two buildings, hurtling inside as the magic blasted past us. It shook my insides and rattled my bones. I huddled in the alley, panting. Finally, I managed to crawl toward Tarron.
“Are you okay?” I gasped.
“Yes.” He sat upright, pale. “We avoided a direct hit.”
“My insides still feel pulverized.”
“Mine too.” He stood and reached for my hand. “Come on.”
Aching, I gripped his hand and stood. Together, we crept toward the entrance to the alley and peered out. All around, Fae were collapsed. It was silent as the grave. The Eternal Flame was dying, the skeletons of the buildings revealed, blackened and destroyed.
In the middle of it all, the other version of myself crawled toward Tarron’s collapsed body.
I remembered every instant of that moment—the horrible fear. The misery.
I watched myself dying.
10
Cold shuddered over me. It was too freaking weird to watch myself die. To watch Tarron die.
I swallowed hard and sprinted out of the alley, Tarron at my side.
We had only seconds. Our other forms were almost dead.
All around us, the Fae were unconscious. Only Burn was on his feet as we raced toward our fallen bodies. I wished there was time to go after the false queen—who could be unconscious right now—but Kerina had said that we only had a few seconds. We couldn’t risk it.
As I ran, I couldn’t drag my gaze away from my body or Tarron's.
We’re dead.
I didn’t feel dead, so it was super disturbing to see my lax form.
We reached them and stopped.
“Let’s find some place quieter,” Tarron said. “I don’t know how long this will take, or when the Fae will wake.”
“Good thinking.” I bent and grabbed my own dead body, then hoisted it over my shoulder. “This is so fucking weird.”
“No kidding.” Tarron swung his own body over his shoulder and turned, striding toward an alleyway that hadn’t been burned.
We slipped inside and laid the bodies on the ground. I swallowed hard, staring at my own tear-stained face. “Let’s do this quick.”
“Hang on.” Tarron knelt and yanked the dagger out of the chest of the fallen version of him.
Then he hovered his hand over the wound and fed healing magic into it. The flesh knit back together, appearing whole and unblemished through the tear in the shirt.
“Smart thinking.”
“I don’t want to wake up with a dagger in my chest.”
Fair enough. “Ready?”
“Ready.” He stood.
We yanked the vials of potion from our pockets and raised them to our lips, then swigged them back.
“Ugh.” I wiped my mouth, gagging slightly at the taste of boiled cabbage.
My head began to spin and my vision flickered. Then I was falling, the world zipping past my head as my form was sucked toward the ground. My consciousness went fuzzy.
When I came back to myself, I was lying on the hard ground and staring up at the little bit of sky I could see between the towering buildings.
I gasped, sitting upright, then turned to Tarron.
He sat, blinking slowly. He reached for me, and his hand made contact with my cheek. “Holy fates, it worked.”
I lunged for him, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around me, cocooning me in warmth. Without warning, the ether sucked us in. It spun us around, tearing us apart.
I thrashed, shocked as hell, and stumbled when the ether spat me out in the middle of a darkened alley.
Tarron appeared next to me a moment later.
His wide eyes met mine, then traveled beyond me to the darkened city street. I spun in a circle, inspecting our surroundings.
“It’s night time,” Tarron murmured. “But where are we?”
I squinted upward. The darkened sky overhead was actually rock. On either side of the cobblestone street, ornate two-story buildings had been carved out of the rock. They looked and operated like normal buildings, but they were part of the mountain itself. Twisty iron street lamps shed a golden glow over their facades, and various magical wares filled their windows.
We were on an underground street that had been carved out of a mountain.
“The Vaults.” I turned to Tarron. “We’re in The Vaults.”
“In Edinburgh?”
“I’m sure of it.” The Vaults were Edinburgh’s equivalent to Darklane—the dark magic part of town, located right outside of the Grassmarket, the neighborhood where Edinburgh’s supernaturals congregated. Unlike Magic’s Bend, Edinburgh wasn’t entirely a magical city. There was a specific neighborhood where magical beings congregated, located right near the castle and below The Royal Mile. Thousands of tourists bustled by every day without realizing what was right outside of their vision.
Which meant we were definitely back on earth.
I pressed a finger to my comms charm, hoping that it would work.
“Aeri?” I asked. “You there?”
Nothing.
An old wizard hobbled up the street, his dark robes sweeping the ground. He reeked of dark magic, and I tried not to breathe deeply as I asked, “What day is it?”
He blinked at me as if I were crazy.
“What day is it?” I demanded. “What time?”
“Eleven p.m. on the twenty-first.”
The twenty-first. I glanced at Tarron. “Two days after we died. Aeri has already been abducted.”
“The spell brought us forward in time.”
The old wizard shook his head and shambled onward, muttering to himself, “Crazy kids.”
Tarron grabbed my arm and pulled me into a darkened nook that acted as a tiny, shallow alley.
“I can’t believe I can finally touch you,” he said, his voice rough.
My heart thundered as I turned, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. Warmth flowed through me, followed quickly by a fierce desire. It shivered down every nerve ending as I clutched at him, my hands on his shoulders.
Regret tore at me as I said, “I wish we had more time for this.”
He nodded, his expression serious. Then he pulled me in for one firm kiss. My heart leapt and my skin heated, then he was pulling back.
It was over in a second, but my head still spun. Having my body back—everything felt so much more intense. The sensations, the emoti
ons. It exploded within me, and from the heat in Tarron’s eyes, he was feeling the same.
“We have two hours.” Intensity echoed in Tarron’s voice. “If we both don’t make it out, I love you, Mari. I needed you to know.”
I blinked, shocked. My heart swelled. “You’re telling me now?”
“It may be our last chance.”
“I love you too.” The words burst from me. “And we’re both making it out.”
He nodded, though I could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe me.
“Both of us,” I repeated. I tugged on him. “Come on. Let’s go.”
I stepped out from the little alley, looking up and down the street.
“Do you know where the Dark Necromancer lives?” he asked, referring to the person that the queen had said could give us the Aranthian Crystal.
“No idea. But I do have a friend here who might.”
“Lead the way.”
We started up the darkened street, following the slope to the top and then taking a right. It didn’t take me long to get my bearings since the whole place was quite small. We passed all sorts of shops that I’d frequented in the past—potions, ingredients, weapons, clothing—and a few that I hadn’t—shrunken heads, body parts, and torture devices.
As we walked, he raised his wrist to his lips, speaking into his comms charm. Now that we were on earth, the magic in the charm finally worked. Within seconds, he had Luna dispatched to Puck’s Glen to help with the search.
“Thank you.” It could only help to have other Fae looking for a Fae portal.
We continued up the street, moving swiftly. A few mages and shifters passed us, though none of them paid us any mind. A few moments later, we reached Madame Mystical’s Magical Mementos’ tall, ornate doorway.
“You have a friend called Madame Mystical?” Tarron asked.
“No. That was some aunt of hers or something. She is Melusine.”
I pushed open the door to the shop and stepped inside the hollowed-out, three-story space. Shelves soared all the way to the ceiling, each packed full of various strange and random magical objects. Their signatures filled the space, hundreds of different scents, tastes, sounds, and auras.
Glass cases filled the middle of the space, along with a few chairs, and colorful pixies floated near the ceiling. At the far end, Melusine bent over a desk, filling out a form with a quailed pen, cursing up a storm.
