42. Morheim

"Nell, wake up! Wake up—wake up—wake up." Hot sobs rumble over my stomach, wet and gooey. Each of them is punctuated by a hard blow to my breast bone, and my lids twitch.

The familiar voice drags me from the sweet, treacherous slumber the Shadow King imposed on me. Gone is my lover, the drugging scent of him replaced by the smell of heavy salt, vinegar, and bitter almonds.

Hurried footsteps echo up the hallway, and a gush of cold air reaches my cheeks. "Don't touch the body, princess. It's not safe."

"Stay back!" Cece's nails dig into my chest. "You've been keeping her from me, acting like she's already dead, but she still breathes."

"You shouldn't be in here, child. How did you sneak past the guards?" A patient voice asks, the gentle tone sweet and yet menacing. "Your sister's spirit is already with our beloved Mother."

The hard, more masculine voice draws closer. "There's nothing you can do for her now. The priest is here to end her misery."

"You take one more step toward my sister, and I will end you," Cece says.

My mouth is pasty and painful, but I finally manage to move my lips. "Cece?" I breathe.

"Nell? Nell, can you hear me?"

I fail to blink, my lids too heavy to obey, like a river of sand has been poured over my eyes to hold them closed. "Cece? Is that you?"

"Yes, Nell. I'm here." She presses her forehead to mine, and a wave of wet tears slides down the slope of my neck. "I'm here."

"We have to leave at once, princess. That creature is not your sister. Your sister is dead," the guard pleads with her, his voice thick with fear. "Let the priest deal with the demons that took over her body."

"Get out!" Cece shouts, inches from my ears.

Her small arms grip my shoulders, and I finally manage to open my eyes. Cece is curled like a wounded beast around my lifeless body. Her eyes are red, and her hair is sticking out in all directions, making her look like a very pissed off, very dangerous cat.

The guard reaches out for her. "You need to come with me at once."

The priest touches his forehead and chin in a silent plea. "She's been touched by the devil, too."

Cece squints at them, feral. "I said get out!" An inhuman shriek reverberates off the walls, and a forceful wind blasts them both out of the room. They pirouette and tumble to the hallway like paper dolls caught in the breeze, and the door slams shut behind them.

Magic ripples through the air, strong and wild, and I know none of it came from me.

I gawk at her. My Cece. "Did you just do that?"

"It's really you." She hits my chest again with her small fists. "They told me you were dead."

I wince at the pain, and a bit of life returns to my extremities. "I—I don't know what happened—" One minute, I was in the Shadow King's bedroom, and the next…

I sit up, gently pushing Cece off me. I remember everything.

Morrigan made a deal with Damian to spare my life. A deal to release me from the bet so she could marry him instead.

Adrenaline chases away the last remnants of the enchantment that was keeping me captive, and I jolt to my feet. "Where is my mask?"

Cece frowns at that, her gaze shiny and unfocused. "What?"

"My mask. Help me look for it."

"Nell, what the crops is going on? Why did Father send these men to—to—" her rushed voice dies down to a mere whisper. She's in shock.

I grip her hand and pull her to me. "Hey. I'm alright. I was under the effect of a Fae enchantment. A powerful one. You freed me."

"So you're not going to die?" she squeaks.

"No." I press her palm to my beating heart to comfort her. "I just—I need my mask to save someone I love. Do you understand?"

She gives me a sharp nod, looking a bit more like her usual self. The uneven bite of power rolling off her in waves warms my body from head to toe. My little sister has magic, too.

We search the room frantically, ruffling through all the dressers and chests. Cece crouches on her knees to look under the bed while I search the embers in the hearth for a sign of my emerald-plated mask.

"It's not here. Judging by the tantrum Father pulled when you returned, it must have already been destroyed," Cece finally says.

"It's not so easy to destroy. Where is Father? He must have it with him."

"He's out tonight. He said he had an important dinner with the ministers, but clearly, he only wanted to leave so he wouldn't be here when they murdered you."

I wrap her inside a tight embrace, and the powerful quakes of her body break my heart. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

A sob bubbles out of her mouth. "They boarded the windows from the outside after I tried to sneak along the ledge on the first night, but I finally managed to steal the keys to your room right before that awful priest came back from the kitchens."

The first night…

"How long have I been asleep?" The blood drains from my cheeks as I press my eyes closed.

"Three days."

I cover my mouth with one hand, about as shaky as Cece is. "What time is it?"

"Nine."

Only hours to go before Morheim starts.

A loud pounding on the door startles us both, and the thundering sound is followed by a loud crack. The door splinters. A guard's arm pokes through the hole, and I engulf me and Cece in shadows.

"Stay close to the wall. Quick." I tug on her hand and flatten myself to the wall as three guards blast into the room.

Their eyes search frantically for us. "They're gone."

The sleazy priest runs to the window to check on the latch, and a frown overpowers his wrinkled face. "Where did they go?"

Cece's mouth opens on a silent gasp. "They can't see us."

Sweat gathers on my forehead. The strain of keeping two people hidden instead of one encircles my ribs, and I don't know how long I can keep it up. "Let's go."

We run through the broken door to the hallway leading away from the women's quarters, down the grand staircase, and into Father's study. The door is locked, but I ram it with my foot. All the might of my magic gathers behind the kick, and the door gives in.

The groggy haze from the enchantment has almost completely lifted now, and I slip inside the king's private chambers with Cece on my heels.

No one has set foot in this room in days, but the mirror has been shattered, about thirty pieces of glass scattered across the carpet. Cece closes the door behind us, and we drag the heaviest armchair we can manage to hold it shut.

We search my father's writing desk and bedside tables, but find nothing aside from books, letters, papers and ink. Nothing under the pillows or mattress.

The mask isn't here. I feel it in my bones. I'll just have to do without. I grip an inked quill and draw the runes for "Fae" and "Faerie" over my lower arm before kneeling down to pick up a large piece of glass. "Here. Help me put it back together."

I don't know if it'll work, but I have to try. The only other mirror that I know of is miles and miles away. I can't wait that long.

Cece and I crawl on all fours across the thick carpet. We collect the broken pieces of glass and rotate them until we start to see a pattern.

In my haste, I cut myself on a sharp edge. "Ow. Be careful."

She gives me a grave nod and doubles her efforts, but a rattle at the door distracts us from our goal. A loud shout echoes in from the hallway, and I know it won't be long before the guards battle their way through.

The mirror is almost whole, and I flatten both of my palms to it. Desperate for it to work, I push every ounce of my magic forward, and the glass plies under my fingers. "Oh—thank the Mother," I cry out.

A faint voice reaches my ears. "I think they're in here!"

I turn to Cece, time ticking away too fast for a proper goodbye. "I need to go."

"I'm coming with you." She glares at me with her fists curled at her sides. She looks ten years older—and savage as a wounded hare. At that moment, I know no magic or monsters in all the worlds could keep her from me.

"We might get lost forever," I admit. "But there's no time to explain."

She rolls her shoulders back. "Better that than staying here."

"Close your eyes, and whatever you do, don't open them in there. Hold on to my hand, okay?" I entwine our fingers.

The both of us inch closer to the edge of the broken mirror. Its surface ripples in invitation, and a warm, intoxicating thrill shivers up my spine.

I'm going home.

Cece nods, the bob of her throat visible. "Okay."

I'm going home and I'm bringing Cece with me. Never mind the fact that we could be swallowed whole by nightmares and end up dead before midnight.

"On three." A loud screech comes from behind us, the guards slowly but surely breaking down the door. "One."

"Two." Cece screws her eyes shut with a slight bend in her knees.

The door booms open, and I pull her forward. "Three." Holding each other's hand tightly, we jump feet-first inside the depths of the sceawere.

I scramble to keep my balance. The conflicting gravity of both realms pulls me forward instead of down for a moment before it stabilizes.

I squeeze Cece's hand and check that her eyes are still closed. "I know it's cold and weird in here, but you're safe. I've got you, Cece."

"I trust you."

The sceawere is different without a mask. Blurry. I risk a glance behind us and see the priest kissing his goddess talisman, but I quickly turn my back on him—on my old life—forever.

I use my free hand to grab the pliable glass and move to touch the runes on my lower arm, but the various paths—the thousand glimpses of freedom—turn to black.

My stomach cramps.

Never remove the blindfold, or the nightmares that prowl the in-between will claim you,Damian said on our first meeting.I'm about to find out exactly what he meant.

A nightmare detaches from the mass and prowls forward. I put my body between it and Cece, ready to fight, but a shred of recognition tingles all over my body.

It's the one I made when I escaped Isaac's dream and lost my little bet with Two. The ragged runaway bride.

With a wink, she waves me along.

What the— I wrap an arm around Cece's shoulders to keep her close and follow the only nightmare I ever weaved through the labyrinths of the sceawere. If others follow in our wake, I don't catch a glimpse of them.

The runaway bride immobilizes in front of one of the blackened mirror shards. Before I can think of something to say, she plants both palms on my back and gives me a powerful push. I fall forward with Cece in tow.

The sceawere spits us out on the training balcony. The buffet table where I grabbed so many meals is still in its usual spot, full of rotten fruits. Flies and the smell of decay waft through the night air.

I don't want to draw attention to our arrival, but the balcony is empty, so I whisper to Cece, "You can open your eyes now."

She blinks and draws a sharp intake of breath. "Are we in Faerie?"

"Yes."

The full moon is slowly creeping towards the top of the sky, and I wipe the sweat from my brow. What if it's already too late? But,Morrigan wouldn't let it reach its peak before sealing Damian's fate.

"Stay right here." I leave Cece behind and crawl toward the railing to glance at the gardens below. Through the tiny slivers in the metallic patterns, I see the hunters and James are all lined up under the shadow of the Hawthorn, facing in my direction.

Lori is among them, standing in the first row without her mask. Her fists are bound behind her back with white, slightly transparent silk, and she's standing way too stiff—clearly under some kind of spell.

But the petrified audience isn't the most shocking sight about the gardens. I glance up and see a handful of dreamcatcher spiders have weaved a thick, giant web under the Hawthorn's canopy. The eight-legged monsters hang from transparent strings above the wedding party, and I flatten myself to the floor even more, remembering how they rely on movement to attack.

Garlands of white flowers and strings of lanterns hang alongside the spiders, the sight of the decorations filling me with pure hatred.

She was so confident in her victory that she decorated.

Damian and Morrigan stand on the big flat rock that serves as an altar in front of their witnesses, and the sight of them holding hands steals my breath. Somehow, I've managed to crash the ceremony exactly as it starts.

Cece crawls over to me on her hands and knees. "But—That's Esme!" she hiccups in surprise, and I cover her mouth with my palm to muffle the sound.

I lower my voice as much as I can, my hardened gaze fixed on Morrigan's wedding dress. "It's a long story."