Page 6

M y brain buzzed like a nest of angry bees as I tromped through thigh-high brush in a heavily wooded forest.

It had been a dizzyingly long night. A private jet sent by the school picked us up in Brazil and flew us to Montreal, where Typhon had used a proper Spiriting rune to get us south to the St. Lawrence Seaway.

Now, we were bushwhacking our way through the wilderness of the most remote of the Thousand Islands to get to the other side where we would take a boat to our final destination: Neverthorn.

“Uhhh, remind me again why you didn’t just Spirit us right to the water’s edge instead of into the middle of frigging Jurassic Park?” I asked as I rushed to keep up, yet again. “I know you’re more than capable.”

Once I’d established there was no way of getting out of this mess, I’d had no choice but to go along with Typhon’s plan.

He’d always been a strong wizard, even when we were teenagers.

He’d improved over the years, and while my magic was pretty nifty if unconventional, there was something to be said for a guy who worked as an instructor teaching it.

Magic wasn’t just his job – it was his whole life.

A life that now apparently included ruining mine.

One good thing; I was pretty sure my suffering would be brief as they’d quickly realize they’d got the wrong person.

Brief but excruciating. The months I’d spent at Neverthorn Academy had been the worst of my life, and that was coming from an orphan who spent the latter half of her teen years basically homeless.

Typhon grunted and pushed aside a swath of ferns so big they could have fed a brontosaurus.

His voice fell into a teacher’s drone. “A Spiriting spell can be used to transport ourselves from one Unlit location to another, but once we’re this close to Neverthorn, it’s illegal to use it, to keep people from just popping directly into the school.

It’s a safety precaution. Do I need to also remind you that Unlit means human realm?

Hecate’s ass, you should know all this stuff. What are you, thirty now?”

I let out a snort. “Not even close. I’m twenty-nine.”

He shot an unamused look over his shoulder and continued hacking his way through the forest like some sort of goth Indiana Jones. He seemed surprisingly comfortable, given the brush was so thick we couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of us.

“Are there any poisonous spiders in these parts?”

“Yes. And it’s venomous, not poisonous. Venom is injected, poison is ingested,” he replied, continuing forward and letting a sapling branch snap back and hit me square in the chest.

Asshole.

“I’ve been meaning to ask ... my friend Josh is going to be wondering where I went. He’ll probably call 911 eventually. That would be sticky for you if the human police come looking for me.”

Josh most definitely wouldn’t. That was some Thieving 103 shit: Never call the cops .

Ever.

But as furious as I was with him for leaving me behind, I knew Josh. He’d come back and look for me once he’d put a plan together. He was what you might call a slow thinker.

“I already sent him a text from your phone that you were okay but had to lay low for a while.”

“There are kids who need –”

“I also told him to shut down the apartment for the runaways. No one else will miss you.”

The thing was, Typhon wasn’t wrong. There had been no kids except Opie for several weeks. And other than Josh ... there was no one else. A few silent minutes passed, and I shivered in the cool air, choosing to believe it was the air and not sadness that made me shiver. “Are we almost there?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, we stepped into a clearing. If I hadn’t been so focused on searching the trees for black widows in hiding, I’d have heard the rushing of water.

“Hand me your pouch.”

“What pouch?” I wasn’t about to give up the goods that easy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my neck once more, and that light shiver intensified. He hooked the collar of my shirt and gave it a tug.

“The one you hide your stuff in. I’ve been watching you while you were observing Agatha. Give me the pouch so I can check you for weapons. Now.”

Well, damn. He really had done his homework. I knocked his hand aside, then reached into the pocket sewn into my bra, tugging out the little bag in question. He waved his hand impatiently, and I tossed it to him.

“How did you do that?” he asked, frowning.

“Do what?”

“Make it so much smaller.”

Duh . I shrugged. “Magic.”

“Obviously. Which you learned where?” he pressed.

He wasn’t going to like my answer.

“I created the rune for it myself. I call it ‘nicking notions’.”

The name was adorable if I did say so myself.

“Have you been doing that the whole time since you left Neverthorn?”

“Doing what?”

“Creating your own runes.”

Something in his face told me that “yes” was the wrong answer.

“Not the whole time . . .”

“If I’d known that, I’d have –” A muscle ticked in Typhon’s jaw as he broke off and glared at me.

“I told Tarquinius that this will never work. You have no discipline, and you leap before thinking it through. And creating your own runes ... Do you understand how dangerous unsanctioned runes can be?”

He wasn’t wrong, I’d had a few spells go sideways, but for the most part I’d been successful.

Really, the big clue was that I was still alive .

.. “Seems like we’re on the same page here, Typhon.

So why don’t you scoot across the river and grab Opie for me, then me and her can skedaddle,” I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the forest. “Just tell Tarquinius we got away or something. Surely you can make up a plausible story.”

“You honestly think he’d believe I wasn’t able to catch you?”

This fucking guy ... the ego on him surely hadn’t dimmed since I’d seen him last, despite the new scars.

“I don’t know what you want from me!” I snapped, coming to the end of my rope. “You’re no happier than I am about this, so let’s put our heads together and solve the problem. Oh! I know!” I said, thrusting up a finger like the idea had just come to me. “You can let me and Opie go.”

“With Heronius out of the picture, there are only a handful of Dwimmers with the potential to defeat Nocta, and we need all of your kind on deck. You’re coming to Neverthorn, so get used to it.”

“Your kind? What the hell does that even mean?” I bellowed, anger and fear leaving me feeling like I was in some sort of nightmare. That had to be it. This was just a bad dream. Some sort of anxiety-induced hallucination.

He didn’t answer my questions. Typhon just stood in front of me and traced an intricate pattern in the air as he held up my tiny bag, and it expanded back to its full size. He tugged out a jewelry box, flicking it open with his thumb.

“This was her coin collection,” Typhon said. Hers. Agatha’s. Damn it.

There was no diamond, unicorn or otherwise, inside. I’d been baited and set up from the start.

I leaned in to see a familiar set of gold coins gleaming up at me. Hecate’s symbol of the triple moon was pressed into one side. The other was the bust of a man with antlers. The Horned King. The two gods Dwimmers looked to, neither of whom could save me now.

There was no choice. I knew when I was done.

“Let’s get this charade over with, then,” I said with a heavy sigh as I trailed after him toward the roiling waters.

In the Unlit world, it still looked to be a part of the St. Lawrence Seaway. But once we tossed the coins in the air, it would become the Dwimmerfolk version of the River Styx. Or, as I liked to refer to it, Shit’s Creek.

I’d seen it during the day on my first trip to Neverthorn, and it was lovely.

The crystal-clear water had looked like a pane of glass as technicolor fish swam and otters frolicked.

The bottom was gilded in coins, it seemed like there were millions of them, and when the sun shone on them, it bathed the shores in a golden light.

It was like something out of a Disney movie.

But now, just before dawn, the churning water was a deep unfathomable black.

Like it hid the darkest of secrets, the deadliest of sins . .. and probably a few bodies.

A sense of apprehension rolled over me, and I felt like that sixteen-year-old girl again, terrified to leave her mother. Wishing I could postpone school again, just one more year ...

I shoved the thought away and sucked in a shaky breath as Typhon tossed the coins from my pouch high into the air.

Before they could hit the water, a small, rickety rowboat appeared with a skeleton at the helm.

His finger bones clacked together as he plucked the coins from the air and popped them into his empty eye sockets, both with the Horned King facing out.

Judging us.

I pitied the fool who tried to steal even one penny from the bottom of his river. I’d heard tales, none of which ended well for the would-be thieves. Even I wouldn’t take that job.

“All aboard,” the skeleton, Charon, called, his voice creaky and crackling.

Typhon headed to the river’s edge, not waiting to see if I followed, because he knew what I’d finally come to accept ... for now. I belonged to those in charge at Neverthorn until I figured out what was happening and left with Opie.

““Sup, Bones,” I said as I stepped gingerly onto the boat, wincing as it rocked. “Long time no ... see.” I motioned at his coin eyes.

Charon ignored me, and Typhon and I took our seats. There were only us two this time, as opposed to my last visit, when dozens of students of varying ages were transported at a time.

“Where are the other students? The ones you said were like me ... all full of potential. ” I asked, swallowing back a rush of bile as Charon slipped his pole into the water and we lurched into motion, the waves rolling us side to side and only very slowly forward.