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“That makes no sense,” he said.

He turned to look at the waterfall rushing at their backs, his face smoothing in shock. “No way,” he whispered.

Roman’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Tamika…she was right.”

“Who’s Tamika?”

“The waterfalls…,” he murmured, gesturing for Roman to hold on as he thought it through—as he pieced the puzzletogether. As he remembered Tamika’s words as if she’d said them just yesterday.

‘Back in old times, people used to visit the Crossroads to speak to loved ones who had passed away. They would go on the shortest night of the year, when the divide between our world and the spirit realm is rumored to be at its thinnest. If a Crossroads wasn’t handy, a person could seek out a weak spot by going to a place of heavy darkness, or perhaps an area where elements meet with constant movement, such as waterfalls.’

Waterfalls. Places of constant movement.

Holy shit.

Darien had believed the waterfall in the cavern would take them to Spirit Terra, but?—

But maybe they didn’tjustlead to the spirit realm. Maybe…maybe, now that the Veil was falling, they led to other places, too. A glitch in the fabric of the universe.

His eyes snapped to Roman’s confused face. “The waterfalls,” he said again. “They’reportals.”

6

Blackstone Alley

ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE

Sabrine Van Arsdellcrept across the living room, taking care not to wake the man dozing in the recliner. The bottoms of his socks were blackened with filth, his weather-beaten face peppered with stubble. Scattered around the chair were empty beer cans, cigarette packets, and oily takeout bags that had probably been there for days. Weeks, even.

He was Claude Van Arsdell, and he was her father. A drunk, a layabout, an abuser…and the reason Sabrine never bothered to come home anymore.

Home.Is that what this place was? She glanced around, her stomach twisting into knots at the sight of this stinking pigsty she’d finally managed to escape last fall. This was still her legal residence, but she had no plans to return here again, unless it was to collect her mail. Hopefullythatwould be changing too, once she packed up the last of her belongings—which, if all went according to plan, would be happening right now.

As she tiptoed across the living room, feet sinking in the soiled carpet, her sharp wolf hearing picked up on the voices drifting quietly through the television speakers. The news channel was on. All morning, the anchors had been covering what they knew of the incident in Yveswich, which wasn’t much.A power and spell outage, they were calling it. An outage so bad it was record-breaking, shutting down every power and magic grid in the city—no spells, no alarm systems, and no lights, an equation that always equaled disaster.

Sabrine had a feeling it was worse than an outage. In the hours that had passed since the first report, she had tried calling her friends who were in Yveswich, but no one had answered. Not Dallas, not Max, not Loren. For all she knew, the latter might still be in a coma, but she had phoned her anyway, just in case. She had even tried Darien, but her only response was a beeping line. No power, no service—just like the news channels said.

But there were two big things about the reports that didn’t sit right with her.

Thing number one: The first, unedited video clips—the clips that had shown multiple cameras in Yveswich being swallowed by a blast of darkness—were no longer being aired, as if someone had ordered them taken down.

Thing number two: The reporters were claiming that every power grid in Ker’s capital had gone out. If that were even remotely true, the cameras should have stopped working the moment that strange, sinister cloud of darkness hit. Instead, they had remained on, broadcasting the most disturbing, spine-chilling sounds Sabrine had ever heard.

Someone was trying to cover up the truth. And there was only one person in Terra who had the kind of power and influence to do it quickly.

The imperator. The man who’d run off to Yveswich with the blueprints for the replica of the Arcanum Well. The man who’d relentlessly made their lives a living hell for over half a year.

With most of her friends in Yveswich, there weren’t many people left in Angelthene who Sabrine could talk to. People she could trust. But therewasone person…someone well versedin Spirit Terra and Yveswich’s dark history. Someone Sabrine planned on visiting within the hour.

But—one step at a time.Literally.

She hurried into her bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

The tiny space hadn’t changed since she’d last seen it, though it was messier than before—that was a given. Dresser drawers had been thrown open, closet doors had been ripped off their hinges, and clothes had been strewn across her bed among the contents of her lone jewelry box.

Her father had been in here. Hunting for spare change to fuel his alcohol dependency or help pay the rent. Most months, he barely scrimped by, and now that he no longer had access to the shallow pockets of his only child, Sabrine knew that his life had taken a turn for the worse.