Page 156

The riftways worked in two directions. If there was a way to reprogram the destination, it wasn’t obvious. Thankfully, they had enough keys that the next riftway console was usually within a mile of each jump.

Skye remembered it like falling.

Going through a second time, however, he decided he must’ve blocked out the memory because he was dead wrong.

Stepping through the riftway, the ground suddenly ripped out from underneath him, and while he did feel a steady force sucking him down , there were an infinite number of other forces all pulling outward along their vectors as each atom of his body attempted to spin off its axis.

The pressure threatened to pulp his bones. His skin stretched tight.

Then his feet hit solid ground, and he could only remember the fall—the wind and stars and infinite nothingness they had flown through to get to the other side.

It was like that at every stop. From underground caverns to wind-swept islets, they leapfrogged across the island. Not every riftway was in pristine condition—the amulet with a wyrm opened a portal that let out on the side of a tower absent a landing platform. To get to the wave, they had to swim.

Eventually, they came to the last jump.

The riftway stood at the edge of a clearing, nestled among the gnarled roots of ancient trees. Once a perfect ring of glass-smooth stone, it now lay in ruins. The interior metal band, dulled with age, gleamed faintly from within a nest of overgrown vines they’d hacked away to clear the frame.

“Last chance,” Skye said. “We all know Taly brought a change of armor.”

Ivain’s fingers moved with practiced precision, snapping the last piece of the console into place. A dull click. A rising hum. Then, all at once, the lights flared to life, circuits reigniting in a cascading wave. “As much as she deserves to be here, she’s in no condition to fight.”

He wasn’t wrong. Skye saw it in the way her movements still hesitated, in every wince she didn’t mean to let slip. Still, leaving her behind didn’t sit right. It wasn’t a question of logic or morality—it was something deeper, an unease he couldn’t shake.

Then again, that uneasiness might’ve also been due in part to the crate of bombs in his arms. Every rattle of the contents inside made him wince.

“Don’t worry,” Kato said, coming up behind him. “I’m sure the damsel will be fine for one day without supervision.”

Ivain slotted the key into the console, and with it, a crackle of energy raced across the arch of the riftway. The air shimmered, the fabric of reality twisting and bending as the portal awakened from its long slumber with a groan of metal.

“Alright, remember, people,” Eula said. “Glamours go on as soon as we’re on the other side. Be quick, be quiet, be ruthless. With a little luck, we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Even then, it sounded too good to be true.

Taly was pacing a hole in the carpet. Back and forth, back and forth, her steps sharp and restless. Aiden couldn’t tell if she was more worried about Skye or furious at being left behind.

He wasn’t sure she knew either.

Even the riftway couldn’t pull her out of her funk—she’d barely spared it a glance, a quick once-over before asking to be brought home. The hike had taken more out of her than she’d admit, enough that Aiden had half-expected her to collapse the moment they made it back.

Instead, here she was, wearing down the rug like she had energy to burn—or like stopping would mean falling apart.

When a maid entered to announce a visitor requesting to speak to him, Aiden hopped up a bit too eagerly.

Aimee, seated beside the window in the middle of a game of Solitaire, glared at him as he all but skipped out of the room and away from that weird energy.

They weren’t babysitting. Sarina had stayed behind at the riftway to wait, and in her absence, she’d just happened to ask them to make sure Taly didn’t do anything reckless while she was still half-broken and healing.

Totally different thing.

Mina was waiting for him outside the pedestrian gate. Aiden grinned and took it as a good omen.

“Hey,” he said and kissed her. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, and memories of those same hands scratching lines down his back played in his mind like a sweet melody. “Did I tell you how amazing last night was—I think I may have forgotten to tell you.”

She laughed lightly into the kiss. “You told me.”

“Oh. Good,” he said, smiling as he kissed her again. “Sorry. As much as I’ve been hoping you would materialize in front of me all morning, we’re in a bit of a tense situation here. I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“Oh. Right. Well, this won’t take long.” Something was off. The smile was there, but it felt forced, her body too stiff beneath it.

“You okay?” he asked.

Mina hesitated. Her eyes found his, uncertain—maybe even a little sad.

For a second, it looked like she might say something else. But then her resolve hardened.

Softly, like she already regretted it, she said, “I’m sorry, Aiden. I didn’t think I would like you so much.”

He saw a flash of silver but not the knife until it embedded in his shoulder. Not a deep wound, not even a serious one. But it cut straight through the newly-inked tattoo his uncle had insisted on for all of them.

Two concentric circles with a line dividing them.

Shock froze his features, his wide eyes locking onto her beautiful face, searching for an explanation. “Mina… why?” he gasped, more stunned than injured.

Then he felt it. Like a punch of cold. The intrusion .

His breath stuttered. A violent shudder rolled through him. Mina took a small step back as the chill slithered deeper, sinking into muscle, then bone.

It was as if the wound in his shoulder had opened a doorway, letting something foreign slip inside.

Cold flooded his lungs, poured into his mouth like smoke. He pushed back—tried. But the cold answered with teeth.

Everything went still. Even his heartbeat felt muffled, distant, and moving ever farther away.

His name… what was it again?

That was the last thought Aiden had before he was Aiden no more.

Eula stayed to guard the riftway—they would need a quick exit. The rest moved forward.

The air in the underground caves was thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient stone.

Skye, Kato, and Ivain moved silently through the tunnels, invisible even to themselves.

The echoes of their footsteps were swallowed by the darkness, leaving only the distant drip of water and the occasional scuttle of unseen creatures to break the silence.

Once, this vast network of caverns had been a thriving city, teeming with life and lit by crystals that still clung to the walls.

Now it lay in shadow, its grandeur hidden beneath layers of dust and time.

Towering stone columns lined wide avenues, and the ceilings soared above them, adorned with the remnants of a mosaic depicting ancient gods and heroes locked in eternal struggle.

To their left, an enormous stone bridge arched over a chasm that seemed to descend into endless darkness. To their right, a channel cut for a canal guided a luminous river, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow that painted the cavern walls in shades of blue and green.

They passed through a grand plaza dominated by a massive statue of Rakis, the only male to ever sit on the Time throne. Dilapidated buildings loomed along the perimeter, their windows dark and empty.

Skye knew when they were getting close. He could see torchlight up ahead. They slowed, slipping into the shadows as they approached the edge of Aneirin’s camp.

Tents and makeshift shelters were nestled between the grand stone pillars that lined the central avenue.

Fires crackled in iron braziers. The camp had claimed the skeletal remains of the city’s infrastructure.

A crumbling amphitheater served as a training ground for the undead soldiers.

The stone benches were draped with tattered banners bearing more than one familiar sigil.

Families that Skye knew— respected —had pledged themselves to Aneirin and his cause.

In the shadow of a grand archway, supply caches lay in haphazard stacks, their contents spilling across the stone—blades, rations, armor, carelessly strewn. A makeshift infirmary had been set up nearby, little more than a cluster of bedrolls and crude wooden cots.

There was no movement.

Indeed, as they ventured further in, it became increasingly clear that the bustling activity one would expect from a force preparing for battle was notably absent.

They paused at the edge of a shadowed alcove. There was a large room carved into the stone—the walls were smooth and rounded, unadorned, as if this area had been used for storage once. The air reeked. Black blood stained the floor, long dried.

Skye’s heart pounded as he scanned the area, noting the chains and restraints that dangled from the walls.

Something had been here. Something had suffered.

Now, there was nothing.

The camp was empty.

Ivain was the first to remove his glamour. The lines of his face were hard and etched with worry. “We need to get back right now.”

The bond had grown silent with distance. The moment they landed back in Ryme, Skye threw out his mind to find her.

“Taly!” Ivain called, throwing open the doors to the townhouse.

Sarina was right behind him. She’d seen their faces coming through the riftway and known immediately there was trouble. “Aimee! Aiden!” she shouted up the stairs. “This isn’t a game. Answer me!”

They found Calcifer asleep in the parlor. When Ivain shook him, the beast didn’t stir. “Shit,” he cursed. “Check the rest of the house. Make sure everyone’s accounted for.”

“I’ll take the outside,” Kato said, already out the door.

“I’ll check the security logs,” Eula added, right behind him.

But the rest of the house was as silent as Aneirin’s camp. They found maids passed out in hallways, cooks slumped over their chopping boards, and butlers asleep in the pantry. They were all spelled. They wouldn’t wake.

“Taly!” Ivain shouted as he ripped up the stairs.

Skye was slower to follow. Not because he didn’t feel the same panic. Indeed, he was numb with it.

Because through the bond, he’d found Taly.

Like everyone else they’d come across, she was sleeping, but she wasn’t upstairs.

Skye slumped on a bench near the front door, still hanging open. He looked up as Ivain descended the stairs, his face etched with disappointment and the quiet weight of growing dread.

“I found her,” Skye said lowly.

“Where?” Ivain snapped.

Skye’s expression tightened.

Taly awoke to a pounding headache—and a collar around her neck. The chill wrapped around her like an iron band of ice.

Her hands were tied and looped with her feet in a way that made it hard to move. She nudged her aether, but the collar pulsed, a sharp throb that stung like a shock.

She blinked against the dim light, her mind struggling to piece together where she was and how she’d gotten there. The air was thick with the cloying scent of incense, sweet enough to be nauseating.

“Great,” she muttered, rubbing her cheek against a surprising softness. “Drugged and kidnapped. I told Skye he was being too optimistic.”

She reached for him through the bond to tell him again, but he was too far away. She could only scrape her fingers against the edges of his panic.

As her vision cleared, she took in her surroundings. The tent was grand, ridiculously so, with its ornate tapestries and golden light that filtered through intricately designed lanterns.

There was a velvet-lined cot beneath her. It would’ve been comfortable if she hadn’t been dumped on it face-first with her arms wrenched back.

She heard sniffling, and then—

“Oh, thank the Shards.” Aimee’s voice was hushed and urgent as she scuttled over from where she’d been huddling at the foot of the cot. Tears streaked her usually perfect face, and her hair was falling out of its pins. “You’re up now. You need to come up with a plan to get us out of here.”

Great. Taly wasn’t even fully awake, and already she was responsible for their salvation. She was still groggy and drooling as she tried to get her bearings. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was playing cards, and then I woke up here.”

“Helpful,” Taly muttered. “Can you at least untie me?”

Aimee’s face fell. “I tried. I… I think the ropes are spelled.”

Taly stopped struggling and fell back to the cot. Her head hurt, and her mouth was bone-dry.

The tent had multiple rooms that were blocked off by heavy, rich curtains. She could sense movement from behind one of them. “Pretend to still be asleep.”

Aimee darted back to her own cot as Taly closed her eyes.

She heard the rustle of fabric, then footsteps muted by thick carpets. The clink of metal to glass, liquid pouring.

“Come, come now, I know you’re pretending. I can see all the telltale signs of wakefulness right here in his head.”

Taly’s heart stopped at the familiar voice. Aimee let out a small cry.

Taly opened her eyes, but they matched the truth of her ears. She lay motionless, every muscle locked in place.

Aiden grinned and lifted his glass. “Greetings, cousin.”