As if I truly did dry it up, with nothing left but parched earth and untamed decay.
I didn’t tell Ryatt. Didn’t acknowledge it at all. Instead, I told myself I just needed more time. Shut up my fear by fueling determination in my thoughts instead. Quell my doubts by stuffing my hand in my pocket and feeling her ribbon. Auren needs me, and I’m going to get to her, simple as that.
So what if my raw power is barren right now? It will come back. It has to, because I don’t want to think of what will happen to the villagers, to my mother, if it doesn’t.
I got Auren out, and that’s what matters. I just need to get to Deadwell so I can follow her.
All while we travel, I’m eaten away by unknowns. I don’t know if she was hurt when she fell through the rip. I don’t know where she is or if she’s safe. Until I can see her with my own eyes and feel her beneath my own hands, I’m not going to be able to rest.
So when we finally reach Deadwell and the heart of Drollard Village, I feel like I’m ready to snap. Too many days have passed.
I need to find her. Need to be on the right side of the stars and in the same world where she exists.
My boots slam through the snow as I race past the quiet village. I’m so focused on getting to the rip, on getting to her, that I don’t even notice just how quiet things are. Don’t notice that there’s no one out, even in the middle of the day.
Ryatt shouts my name as I sprint for the cave, but I don’t slow as I continue up the stooped hill, boots slipping on the snow as I go. I reach the cave, pass my mother’s house, steps echoing through the blue-lit hollows.
Almost there.
Just when I round the corner, just when I reach the opened up cavern and I should feel relief, I skid to a stop.
I blink. Again and again. Look around, left and right. Because surely, surely my vision is wrong. Or I took a wrong turn. Or—but no. No, because I know this cave, know this exact spot, and—
“Slade,” Ryatt pants as he catches up, nearly knocks into me, both of us blurting words at the same time.
“Everyone is—” he begins, and, “The rip is—” I start.
“Gone.”
Our words join together with an echoing blow I feel punch through my gut.
The rip is gone.
The people are gone.
Auren is gone.
And my fucking power to get to her is…
Gone.
EPILOGUE
QUEEN MALINA
“It’s time.”
I slowly turn my head from the window I was watching to see the twins standing there. I’m not sure how long I’ve sat here, blinking out at the swirling mist. Sometimes, I think I nearly get a peek at what’s beyond, but it’s far too thick to see through it. Yet now, it’s pitch-black, so I know night has fallen long ago.
With a smile, I rise to my feet, glancing down at the white and blue dress draped over my body. I don’t remember putting this one on, but it’s thick and heavy, probably in preparation for tonight’s ritual.
I follow behind the brothers, and it seems like in no time at all, we’re already outside. Like in a dream, when you go from one place to the next in an instant, without any time or effort.
The night is so dark I’d be blind out here if it weren’t for the row of torches stuck into the icy ground. It makes the snow look like it’s on fire, and I shy away from the flames, a bead of sweat collecting just at the nape of my neck.
Fassa and Friano lead me behind the castle and right to the end of the world.
With my feet poised at the edge, I look down into the brink. Just darkness and gray mist forever. Land and then nothing.
“This way, Majesty.”
I turn and follow their voices until I find Pruinn standing beside some sort of pillar right at the rim of the land.
No, not a pillar, it almost looks like—
“Are you ready, my queen?” Pruinn asks, expression full of joy, his silver eyes pulling me in.
I breathe in the fresh, cold air.
“I am.”
The soft music that I’ve had stuck in my head since I got here seems to grow louder. I hear it in my ears, feel it reverberating in my bones. The light of the torches seems to intensify too, though I don’t like the heat. I wish I could sit in the snow and let it soak through my dress to cool me.
I can’t sit though, because Fassa and Friano are both taking my hands, and then Pruinn has a small blade that he pulls from his pocket. The music is so loud, the firelight so hot…
The dagger is pulled across my palms in a single line that spreads from one hand to the other, cutting through the lines and marking it with the red of my blood.