Page 7

F IVE

ESTRELLA

I followed behind the Morrigan, the three figures walking on sure feet that I didn’t possess. The ground beneath us was the color of rust, that deep, earthy tone that gleamed like fire in the light. The vague impression of mountains lingered in the distance, stretching toward the cave ceiling above. There was no sun in Tartarus, no moon or stars in the sky above my head. As if it was trapped in a massive cave, stone covered the very existence of the prison in a way that felt impossible, as if it existed at the center of the world itself, dancing beneath the surface of the Fae and humans above.

Fires moved, shifting along the red dirt like miniature funnels of flames. They didn’t stay in one place, traveling in the unnatural breeze that blew through the space.

“Where are we going?” I asked, skipping to the side as one of the fires came too close for comfort. The warmth of fire kissed my arm, the singe of heat burning the hair from my skin.

The Morrigan walked through six of the burning spirals, making their way to a stone ruin that jutted out from the reddened earth. The steps ascended toward the ceiling, an archway curving overhead that was big enough to fit two cave beasts standing on top of one another. I swallowed back my nerves and followed after them, trying not to think of what creature may be big enough to need such a large entryway.

“I am taking you to the place you need to be,” Nemain said ominously, her words nearly drowning in the wind as she ascended the first steps. The wind blew through the entrance of those ruins, casting the Morrigan’s hair back in a synchronized flutter.

The Cwn Annwn raced past the three women, sprinting up the steps with speed that I envied. The adrenaline of the day threatened to catch up with me, and it didn’t bode well for me that I had thirteen days to be successful. Thirteen days of minimal sleep to achieve the only thing that would save Caldris’s life.

“You’re taking me to Medusa?” I asked, even knowing it was an impossibility. Nothing in my life was ever so simple to think that they would skip pretense.

“In time. Medusa lives with the Primordials in the Cradle of Creation. Only those who prove themselves worthy may pass through the Temple of the Fates and enter the place where it all began,” Badb answered, cresting the final step as I followed behind them. Her sisters joined her at the crest, turning back to watch me ascend the steps slowly.

My skin hummed as I approached the entryway at the top of the steps, my feet moving more slowly than before—as if that part of my body knew something to dread.

The Morrigan crossed the threshold, stepping into the land beyond the ruined gate. A haze crossed over them, a sort of bubble that muffled their words as Nemain’s lips parted. I reached out a hand to touch the stone, wincing back from the jolt of power that made my entire arm quake.

“If you consent to the trials of Tartarus, you must pass through the warding, Child of Fate,” Nemain said, reaching out with a hand.

“What will it do to me?” I asked, taking a step back. I could feel my magic hum; drawing and calling to that well of power that existed within me made panic freeze my body.

“Tartarus is not interested in your magic or your mate’s,” Badb said, watching the way I faltered with keen eyes.

“Then what is it supposed to test?” I asked, wincing as Macha stepped through the haze to appear in front of me once more. She smiled, her beautiful mouth shifting just a little too wide at the edges, her hair billowing around her like liquid fire.

She reached out, stretching a single pointer finger toward my chest. She touched the very center of it, digging her nail into the fabric and my skin beneath. “You, girl. Your soul. Your very being and your inner strength. Anyone can have magic, but not everyone is worthy of keeping it.”

My thoughts immediately flashed to Mab, to how unworthy she’d proven to be of the magic she’d been given. The magic that was stolen by the dwarves centuries before I was born.

“How am I to survive the trials without my magic?” I asked, watching as she drew her finger away from my chest and held out her hand for me to take.

“The same way you always have. As a human,” she answered, her fingers wiggling as she pushed me to accept the only choice I had.

“It hardly seems fair to have to prove myself worthy of entering a prison,” I snapped, gritting my teeth. “Torture is hardly a gift.”

“No place is truly good or evil, Tempest. Places as much as people exist on a continuum. For the right person, Tartarus can provide just as much as it can take.”

“If I can prove myself worthy. If I’m not, it takes the ultimate price,” I said, grabbing her hand despite the harsh reality of my words.

“Perhaps that, too, is a gift. If you are unsuccessful, your mate will die. This way, you may join him in the Void and find peace with The Mother in Folkvangr. The peace of oblivion is not a gift to take lightly when so many would do nearly anything for it. You would never have to know why the threads have led you here, why they’ve woven you through countless lives to bring you to this very place and this very decision,” she said, guiding me right up to the hazy gateway. She stepped to the other side, crossing through the mist that flowed like water and reappearing on the other side to look back at me with features that felt far too familiar. “Sometimes death is a mercy, but if you live, not even you can outrun the Fates forever.”

I touched shaking fingers to the mist in the entryway, wincing back from the deep cold that suffused my hand at the touch. Fenrir appeared beyond the Morrigan, his stoic face still and his eyes holding mine. His head seemed to nod, as if he understood my hesitation and wanted to tell me it would be alright.

But it wouldn’t. I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that nothing would ever be alright again.

“What will the trials require of me?” I asked, hesitating at that gateway. I couldn’t seem to bring myself to pass into the inner sanctum of Tartarus, not without first asking the questions that once, not so long ago, I’d have been too afraid to voice.

“That will depend on how the magic of Tartarus judges you. The trials are created around what it wishes to see of you, what it needs to test,” Badb said, the cryptic answer the only one I knew I would receive.

Nemain raised a hand, lining her fingers up with mine on the opposite side of the mist. I swallowed as I pressed my hand farther, pushing it through the misty waters that spread around it, thick and viscous and so cold it burned. I gasped as my hand emerged on the other side, my arm and then my body following. Nemain moved with me, guiding me through the cold until it surrounded my face, filling my ears and my nose and my eyes with the burn of it. I couldn’t escape it, couldn’t breathe as it made my lungs still in my chest. I barely managed to push my legs forward before they felt like they froze solid, emerging on the other side as Nemain took a step back, her hand still raised to mirror mine.

The liquid leaked out of my nose, dripping down the sides of my neck and running over my skin in droplets. It gathered on the back of my left hand, pooling in the center of the black circle as I fought for the ability to move. It sank into my pores, eating away at my Fae Mark there.

I wheezed, dropping to my knees as it robbed me of air. As it painfully stripped my power away from me, gathering it all within itself and holding it there. The center of the circle turned the color of flesh once more, the reddish brown of my skin showing where there had been only darkness before.

My knees throbbed with the pain of hitting the stone, forcing me to acknowledge what had been lost. It wasn’t just my magic, but the ability to heal from the injuries I sustained. The ability to not be fazed by such mundane trivialities.

Where I’d been semi-numbed to the pain of having the skin peeled from my bones, now I felt every stone in my knees.

I pushed myself to my feet, trying not to allow my knees to buckle. I wondered if Caldris felt the shift in our bond, felt the fact that I couldn’t access any of the power that arched between us. Maybe it would mean he would have greater access to it.

Maybe it would mean he could fight.

I didn’t pretend to understand the equilibrium of a bond and the magic that pulsed between two halves of a soul. Because the one thing I knew was that I didn’t stand a chance when I felt like my body was too heavy to carry.

“It feels worse than you ever remember before, doesn’t it?” Badb asked, nodding her head for me to walk forward. She was right, but even worse than the physical heaviness was the emptiness within me. Where my bond had once pulsed brightly in my mind, a distant light, I could no longer feel the warmth of Caldris’s mind pressing against my own.

I suddenly remembered what it was to be completely and entirely alone in my head. To have him silenced.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said with a scowl, making my way down the steps on the other side. My knees threatened to cave with every step.

But I took them anyway. Just as I always had.