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“All I know is thatIam not the one who stabbed the king that night. But there are several members of the Light Keepers who would have liked for me to do precisely that.” I speared a chunk of burned wood, shattering it into smaller flecks of ashand embers. “I didn’t see who actually wielded the blade against him. The blightdust powder that exploded on the veranda made it impossible to make out what was happening until it was too late to do anything about it.”

As soon as my vision had cleared, I’d reflexively gone for the sword—mysword—that had somehow ended up impaled in King Eryndor’s chest. And that, of course, was where my hand had been when Nova stumbled onto the scene.

Part of me wondered ifthatwas intentional, too.

If someone had intended to frame me.

What had happened next, though, likely had not been part ofanybody’splans. Meticulous, conniving, string-pulling masters they might have been, but I doubted any of the Keepers had planned on Nova ripping open a fucking portal to Hell and sending me and my closest followers crashing through it.

She had been dangerously unpredictable—chaotic—from the beginning.

Zayn stared into the smoke spiraling up from the charred wood I’d stabbed. He didn’t seem enthusiastic about continuing this line of discussion.

I didn’t blame him.

Too many things didn’t add up, and there was little we could do about any of it while we were trapped down here.

“The only way to find answers is to get back to the living world,” I said, “where we can confront it all for ourselves.”

Zayn crossed his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head to the bruise-colored sky. He was lost in thought for several moments before he said, “Right. Which should be exceptionally easy to do—especiallyif your magic keeps flying out of control and threatening to destroy this realm and kill us all.”

I ignored his sardonic tone, getting to my feet and busying myself with packing my bags, trying not to think about last night.

It was impossiblenotto think about it, though.

We’d camped a fair distance away from the worst of the destruction, but there were still thin, jagged cracks reaching toward where we now stood, reminding me of the destruction I’d caused. Andnearlycaused.

I remembered little of what had happened.

One moment, I’d been arguing with Zayn about something, while simultaneously keeping an eye on the conversation Nova and Thalia had been having on the hilltop.

Then Nova had disappeared, and all the world had seemed to grow louder in her absence—roars of thunder and clanging metal in my head, like I was in the middle of a battlefield while swords clashed and shields splintered all around me.

I remembered blinding light. Kneeling. Drawing into myself. Thinking I could keep the war inside—away from the others—if only I shut myself down tightly enough.

I remembered sudden cold. A hand on my arm. Shadows giving shape to the light. Sudden clarity…

And then I’d woken up in the middle of the night to find myself surrounded by flowers. Andgrass—lush, green grass. All of it different from the things I’d grown down here in the past; its creation had been effortless, for starters. And it all continued to live, even now, even without any help from me. It was hard to explain, but the small garden we’d created didn’t look like out-of-place, glowing magic; it looked like it had always been a part of this world. Simple and unassuming. Balanced and meant to be.

The sound of laughter caught my attention. Nova was a short distance away, talking with Rowen and Farren, helping them pack up the last of our campsite. Even Rowen was smiling at whatever she was saying; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen that grumpy old bastard smile at anything.

And laughter wasn’t a sound I’d heard often throughout my time in this purgatory—maybe that was why it caught my attention. Why I couldn’t seem to stop staring at her.

Zayn nudged my arm, letting out a long-suffering sigh. “At least our cheerful necromancer companion is able to settle your magic down, eh?”

She did more than merelysettleit.

Though I wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone—least of all to my assuming ass of a cousin—after this latest incidentwhere her magic had apparently balanced mine, I’d woken up feeling…stronger. Undeniably stronger. And when she’d touched me last night, with purpose and poise and curiosity gleaming in her bright eyes, I’d felt…

Well, it didn’t matter whatfeelingsI’d had.

But the fact remained: This was a cruel fucking joke the universe seemed to be playing, and I was not at all amused.

“So, you two will just have to stay close, I guess.” Zayn’s tone was loaded with implications.

I shot him a withering look.

He only smiled. “It could be worse.”