Page 42 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

“I’ll be right there,” Ivain replied. Then, to Skye, “I heard Sarina was at the Swap with food and water. Go back, tell her we’re both still alive, and get some fresh air. You’ve been down here longer than anyone else. I don’t want you burning out.”

Ivain didn’t wait to hear his answer, already barking orders at the line of mages waiting in the shadows, but Skye didn’t need to be told twice. He wanted to see the sun, smell something besides rot.

So, he made his way back through the tunnels that had already been deemed “safe,” the ground wet but clear of debris as he walked beside the long metal tracks that once guided the trams. Men and women milled about, some carrying supplies, others bodies.

A line of torches marked the way home, each one a pocket of light and warmth amidst the gloom.

Hello?

Skye stopped in the middle of an intersection where two tunnels crossed, turning towards the sound of the voice. It was faint. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it but—

Somebody, please…

There it was again, coming from one of the tunnels that had already been searched.

The voice drifted from the inky black, and he strained his aether trying to see, to hear.

He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, an adult or a child.

It was just a whisper, easy to dismiss. He could’ve just kept walking, but—

Anybody…

Other mages passed him by, none of them reacting.

Please, I’m hurt.

Skye grabbed the arm of a nearby woman. Another shadow mage. “Did you hear that?” he asked .

She looked to where he pointed. Over the arch of the tunnel was a small brass sign that read Infinity’s Edge. This line used to lead to the palace.

The voice still whispered— please, please, please… —but the woman just shook her head. “It’s probably the wind. It comes in through the aboveground stations, plays tricks with your head. Jorgie thought he heard his mother calling to him, only his mother’s been dead for nearly a century.”

Help!

That time, there was no mistaking it. The voice echoed from the dark.

But the woman readjusted her grip on the crate she carried, saying, “It’s just the wind,” as she turned to leave.

Skye stood there for a moment, listening to the whimpering cries as they drifted in and out.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was a trick.

Just the long hours and lack of food finally getting into his head, but then again…

the tunnel had been deemed safe. It would be irresponsible not to look, just to see if they’d missed something.

He felt a tug. That thread from the ballroom had followed him into his waking hours, though he had never felt it as strongly as he did now, like a string pulling him forward.

His feet began to move, away from the mages carrying supplies in and out. The light of the torches faded, and then there was only the algae above and its faint blue glow. If he burned more aether, he could make out the arch of the tunnel as it curved away into the dark.

Skye blinked. There was a flash of blue up ahead, brighter than the rest.

He took a step, squinting .

There it was again. Three flashes that flickered—then faded. Like fireflies.

“Hello?” Skye called. His voice echoed, as did his footsteps as he stepped carefully along the rails. He drew his sword, flicking the switch and letting the flames chase away the shadows. “Answer if you can hear me.”

Something giggled—the sound like windchimes—and Skye’s heart began to pound.

“Who are you?” Wielding his sword like a torch, he peered into a darkened doorway set into the side of the tunnel. An old supply closet. The door had rotted away to nothing. “ Where are you?”

I’m here.

The voice was at his ear, and Skye whirled—

Only to find empty air.

What’s wrong?

Behind him this time. The voice was morphing, changing into something far, far too familiar.

Skye?

Taly’s voice. That was Taly’s voice, calling to him now.

Where are you, Skye? There was a soft whimper, as though she were crying. Please…

His mind raced. Could she really be here?

Aiden had found her horse and her necklace, followed a trail of her blood to the palace, but what if…

what if she had found her way into the tunnels?

There was a station beneath the palace that used to be a private platform for the queen and her guests.

What if that was the reason Aiden’s locator spell had led him in a circle?

Not because she was dead but because she had gone down below .

Injured and bleeding—what if Taly had crawled her way back home?

Skye?

“I’m here!” He ran towards the sound.

Where are you, Skye?

Behind him again. He abruptly turned, but a flash of that same blue light came shrieking towards him.

Find me! it urged as it streaked past him, leaving a long ribbon of light trailing in its wake as it disappeared around a corner.

Skye made to follow, but another blue wisp zipped around the curve. He backpedaled, stumbling over the tracks along the floor. Somehow, he caught himself, swinging his sword as he adjusted his footing. But the phantom twisted midair, swooping for his hand.

CRACK.

The shock ricocheted up his arm. His entire body jerked as the pain blasted through him. There was a clatter, and he realized his sword had dropped from the hand he could no longer feel, still flaming on the ground.

Another shock hit him square in the chest, and he crumpled.

Why aren’t you trying to find me?

Another flare of blue light joined the first.

Because he’s a coward.

A third now.

Because he can’t.

They were all using her voice, buzzing around him like gnats.

Or maybe…

What?

Say it .

They giggled softly, like it was some grand secret to share.

Maybe he just doesn’t care enough.

Skye dropped to his knees, pressing his hands to his ears. “Not real,” he murmured. “This is just in my head.” It was just the dark and the lack of sleep, the guilt and the grief finally getting to him.

It’s your fault, you know.

Oh Shards, he could still hear them. Hear her .

I left because of you.

Because you weren’t strong enough.

“I know,” he whispered. Shards, he knew. He knew he had failed her just as much as he had failed those people at the canyon. He hadn’t listened when she needed him. He hadn’t realized she was saying goodbye.

What will you do, Skye?

The voices hissed at him. He thought he felt tiny shocks against his skin.

Are you listening?

What are you going to do?

Hey, Skye?

What are you going to do?

Are you going to let me die?

“Enough!” A fourth voice—still the same, but far more real. Skye cracked open his eyes to find a woman standing over him.

But not just any woman. No. This was the owner of that voice—Taly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry… or whether he had finally lost his Shards-damned mind.

She shooed away those vicious blue lights, not backing down when they let out a chimelike snarl. She seemed to repel the darkness itself as she pointed towards the ceiling, towards the world above, and barked, “Go! I shouldn’t have to tell you this is wrong.”

To his surprise, the lights obeyed. They chittered as they rose, hissing their displeasure.

One took a swipe at her outstretched hand, only to skitter away when she didn’t yield, didn’t even flinch at the electric shock that crackled the air.

“Go,” she said again, and they disappeared into the ceiling like wisps of blue smoke, leaving only the faraway drip of water and the rasp of Skye’s own ragged breathing.

There was a rustle of silk as she knelt on the ground beside him, and for a moment, Skye could only stare, greedily taking in every detail. Marveling at the impossibility.

Her skirts pooled around her, a mass of soft peach tulle that spilled across the debris-littered ground.

Leaves embroidered in gold peeked from underneath, creeping across her waist and up her torso.

They thickened across her body, tangling together to form the bodice.

The neckline may have been considered modest if not for the way it clung to her, showing off every dip and curve.

Her hair hung around her shoulders in golden waves, decorated only by a twisting crown of diamond roses.

She watched him carefully, her appearance so at odds with this dark and dirty place. The fire from his sword made the jewels in her hair, the gold of her dress, shimmer—like his own personal sun.

He mouthed her name. Taly .

Still not quite believing.

There was something strange about her features. She looked the same as he remembered, but also… older. Ageless in that way that all ma ture fey seemed ageless, despite the human roundness of her ears.

“Hello,” she said, smiling softly. “Sorry it took me so long to get here. You weren’t where you said you’d be.”

Skye straightened, slowly letting his hands drop from his ears. He reached out to touch her, then hesitated, not sure his heart could take it if he didn’t find flesh and bone. “You can’t be real,” he murmured.

“I assure you I can,” she answered, eyeing his hand, still hanging in the air between them. “Though you’re correct in assuming I’m not. The variables could still change.”

Skye frowned in confusion.

“For now, let’s just go with maybe . If we get this right.”

She rose then, and Skye followed suit, his mind still grappling with the impossibility of what he was seeing. He could hear a heartbeat, yes. He could detect her scent over the reek of mildew and rot.

But it was off. Not quite the way he remembered, though he couldn’t say why.

The way she moved, the way she spoke, even the clothes she wore—it was all wrong. Like his perception of reality had been skewed half a degree.

Like he had wandered into a dream.

“I don’t understand,” he said.