The world spins, but I try to follow his lead, to see what he’s seeing. The sky above us isn’t dark.
I can see in the dark. This black is nothingness. It’s a void.
Water laps onto the rocky ledge, and the glowing portal in the distance— “Where is it?” My voice is raw, my words more choking sounds than words, but he doesn’t need me to explain.
“It’s gone,” he whispers. “The portal is closed.” His gaze drops to my thigh, and his expression turns grim.
Only when I see the deep, bloody gash in my leg do I feel the pain of it. Numbness and adrenaline had masked it, but now it aches and burns and throbs, and there’s so much blood.
I’m going to die here.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When the water rises, you need the white-eyed monster. Don’t hide from him.
That creature that almost drowned me—was that the one Lark foresaw?
Don’t give up until the monster takes you deeper, Princess.
“I think there’s another way,” I whisper, blindly reaching for Finn’s hand. “The white-eyed monster has the path out—there must be another portal deep beneath the surface, another way.”
Finn’s eyes glow in the darkness. “Did Mab tell you that?”
“Lark,” I say softly. “In my dream.”
He takes a breath and looks at my leg again. “Can you swim with that?”
I shake my head. “Go without me.”
“The hell I will,” he growls.
“I will only slow you down. I don’t know how deep the cavern goes or how far you’ll have to swim. You can’t make it if you drag me along.”
He yanks off his jacket and tears it apart, making one long strip. “You have a choice: you can swim or I can drag you,” he says, wrapping my thigh. The binding is tight, painfully so, but the blood stops flowing.
The rocks around us tremble and crack, as if the world itself is falling apart.
“Go!” I shout. “And keep swimming, even if you lose me.” I nudge him toward the water.
His eyes blaze as they connect with mine. He cups my face in both hands. “Don’t you dare die on me, Princess. We are going to find that portal together, and we’re going to come out the other side.
You understand?”
The rocks beneath us quake again, and more water gushes from the cracks. “Finn . . .”
“Do you understand? ”
He’s not going anywhere until I agree, so I nod.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Standing, he leads me to my feet. Then he takes a deep breath and dives in. I follow, and it feels like diving into a sheet of ice. Every sense is assaulted by the sharp cold, every inch of my skin feels like it’s being stabbed with tiny frozen needles, and every instinct tells me to resurface.
Before I can consider it, Finn drags me forward, and we’re swimming back toward the dark mouth of the cave. Back toward those deathly white eyes and that massive maw. I wrap my numb fingers around my blade and swim harder, digging for energy I don’t have.
Finn leads the way into the murky water, knife in hand, and I follow, looking for those eyes.
There’s nothing but black ahead—not darkness, but a void, like the sky above us. Finn grabs my hand and points, and I follow as he turns to the left. Then I see it—another ridge and the surface of water— air within the cave. When we break the surface, we gasp in unison.
Finn wipes the water out of his eyes before scanning our surroundings. “I can barely tell which way is up,” he mutters.
“Deeper. Lark said we have to go deeper.” My teeth chatter. It’s all I can do to tread water.
Nausea surges, and my pulse feels erratic. “If I don’t make it, promise me you’ll keep trying.”
Finn glares at me, the broody shadow prince back in full effect. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that right after promising me you wouldn’t die.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out more like a whimper.
“You ready?” he asks. His voice is rough too. The water swishes around us.
“Something’s coming,” I say.
“Swim and swim hard.” It’s a command I dare not ignore.
We dive under together and swim. I let Finn lead the way by whatever intuition he has. Because he’s right. This place is disorienting.
My legs feel like blocks of ice, my arms like dead weight, my lungs so tight they could burst. If I doubt his confidence for a single moment, if I think there’s any chance we might be swimming in the wrong direction, I’ll give up.