Chapter 55

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

MAEVYTH

T he silvery-blue glow beckoned me, as I stood before the archway.

Not even the distant sounds of trampling twigs and branches failed to break my attention from my sister, who paced on the other side of it as if she’d been waiting for me this whole time.

Fireflies danced around her, and I took in the state of her appearance–the length of her hair that’d begun to grow back. Bruises that’d long since faded. Her face bright and illuminated by the glowing reflection of the archway, and the spark of life that relit her eyes. The freshly tailored dress she wore proved she’d found refuge somewhere.

It seemed unreal.

Too unreal.

Heavy footfalls through the bracken grew louder.

“Solassion soldiers,” Melantha warned from where she stood beside me. “They’ve followed us.”

A threat that should’ve goaded me to step through to where my sister waited for me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of suspicion writhing at the pit of my stomach. The oily sense of betrayal and skepticism that’d begun to simmer, the moment I saw her through that portal. Was she even real? At the same time, I couldn’t turn back. Not when there was the slightest chance that I might embrace her again. Not when the possibility of reuniting with her was literally within arm’s reach.

“Aleysia!” I called out to her, and she glanced around, as if she couldn’t discern where the sound had come from. “Aleysia! I’m here!”

She ran in the opposite direction, toward the woods on her side.

“No!” I slammed my hands against the surface, the watery barrier of the archway as impenetrable as the day I’d arrived and tried to step back through. “Aleysia!”

“This way!” the soldiers shouted in the distance, as if alerted by my racket.

“Place your hand on the ward, Maevyth. And repeat my words.” From my periphery, Melantha canted her head, clearly trying to grab my attention, but I couldn’t break from my thoughts.

Anxiety thrummed through me while I stared at the empty woods on the other side. Did I trust this woman? I didn’t know who I could trust anymore. What if she’d led me there, only to throw me into the chasm under the guise of helping me? Through a murk of thoughts, I tried to tease a motive.

“Maevyth, please. We don’t have time,” she urged, and mindlessly, I did as she instructed, placing my palm against the strange watery shield. “ Zi da’dignio, septimiusz me liberih iteriusz.”

“ Zi da’dignio, septimiusz me liberih iteriusz,” I muttered quietly, the uncertainty clawing at my conscience. Not a moment later, my hand slipped through the barrier.

“Go. Find your sister.”

Frowning, I stared at my half-breached arm. No. Something didn’t feel right.

Run.

An arrow speared the ground only inches from where I stood, and I jumped back, retracting my hand. In the short distance, soldiers marched through the trees toward us, one of them nocking another arrow, while the others drew their weapons.

“Go now!”

A powerful force struck my back, knocking me through the glimmering archway to the other side, where the cold forest bed slammed into my palms as I tumbled to the ground.

The atmosphere instantly changed.

The glow from the other side had dimmed to a brute darkness, the surrounding trees illuminated only by the full moon overhead. Eerie silence hung in the air and felt thick and suffocating. No light from the archway. No fireflies dancing about. Only the frigid cold that chewed at my bones as I pushed to my feet.

I’d passed through, back to Mortasia.

A glance back at the archway showed nothing more than my reflection against the blackness of the forest—an unnerving sight that had me looking away.

Shivering, I scanned the thorn bushes for any sign of my sister. “Aleysia,” I said, quieter than before, only to be met by silence.

The creeping realization that she might’ve been nothing more than an illusion, a trickery, crawled over the back of my neck. And still, beneath that treachery festered an unfounded sliver of possibility. A sixth sense, of sorts, which kept me from turning back.

I started off in the direction I’d seen her run, stepping cautiously through the briars. The darkness itself was a predator, watching me with its endless eyes, its cold breath across my neck a constant reminder of its presence. Images of Uncle Riftyn having been flayed taunted my thoughts, as I searched the trees for the creature I’d seen that night.

Hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, the forest completely devoid of any life. No wickens, birds, bats, or any sign of predators lurking amongst the trees. And yet, I felt eyes watching me as I plodded over bracken and dead vegetation, which pummeled the soles of my feet. The slippers I’d worn for The Becoming ceremony were useless against the rough terrain. An unsettling fear crawled beneath my skin, made ever more aware, the deeper I ventured with no sign of Aleysia.

As if I had been tricked.

The moon watched me from overhead, its luminous eye the only beacon I had to guide me.

“Maevyth!” Aleysia called out to me in a voice that held far too much whimsy to belong to my sister.

The moment I opened my mouth to answer, the rule of the forest sprang to mind and the words withered on my tongue. Never answer to the sound of your own name . Instead, I kept on, eyes cautiously scanning the trees.

After what felt like an hour, or more, had passed, I finally spied the second archway ahead of me.

An overwhelming relief bloomed in my chest, the closer I padded toward it. No matter the terms upon which I’d left Agatha, so long as Aleysia was alive, I’d forgive. As I neared the entryway to home, I promised myself that I’d harbor no grudge against my step-grandmother. After all, it’d been Uncle Riftyn who’d helped me escape that night. Without him, I couldn’t begin to imagine what would’ve happened to me.

At the threshold, I pushed my hand through, noting the stark difference in temperature, colder outside of the woods. With careful steps, I passed through and found myself on familiar ground, absent of warm welcome.

Winter had arrived, the ground a blanket of white, as I stared across the yard to the cottage. No smoke from the chimney. No lights through the windows. Nothing but a dark stillness that left me wondering if anyone still lived there.

I glanced back toward the forest.

Could I turn back if I wanted, or was it too late?

“Maevyth!” Aleysia’s voice called out to me, and I snapped my attention in the direction of the cottage. Without much direction from my head, I jogged across the dirt road, eyes on the windows for any sign of movement, until I reached the entry door and pushed through to the dark parlor within. A stark cold nipped at my skin, and I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing around at the signs of abandonment. Agatha’s teacup sat out on a coffee table, mold crawling over the rim of it, onto the saucer. Her beloved reading chair tipped on its side. Tattered curtains danced in the breeze blowing in through the cracked window.

I didn’t dare call out for Aleysia, for fear that only silence would answer.

Or something else.

Having swept through the lower level to find no sign of her, I made my way up the staircase to the upper level, peering into the rooms for Agatha, or Uncle Felix. I didn’t care who I encountered, so long as they had a pulse. When those rooms showed no sign of life, I climbed the staircase to the attic.

My old room was probably the warmest, but cold enough to stoke the shivers wracking my bones. Standing in the remnants of what I remembered, I suddenly yearned for the warm bed back at Eidolon, the hearth, and Magdah’s tea. A glance around the small space showed no evidence that anyone had been there since that fateful day Aleysia had been dragged away. The beds stood undisturbed and neatly made, my slippers tucked beneath. Weavers hung unmoving from the ceilings overhead, and I wondered if their herbal bellies were full of nightmares witnessed in my absence.

What had happened here?

Where had everyone gone?

I crossed the room to the dresser and dragged my finger over a thick layer of dust. Far too thick for the couple of weeks I’d gone missing. It coated my finger, and I frowned, rubbing it away. Lifting my gaze showed opaque tangles of cobwebs at the ceiling, as if no one had lived there in quite some time.

What had happened after the night of The Banishing?

A soft tapping snagged my attention, and I spun around, searching the dark room for the source .

An unbidden image of The Banishing Man flashed through my mind, casting a chill down my spine. Eyes clamped, I willed it away, for fear my mind might easily materialize the terrifying visual in my head. When I opened them again, a mouse scampered from beneath my bed to Aleysia’s, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Even so, I hurried out of the room and back down the staircase to the first floor. The door to the cellar stood open, and I shook my head, refusing to investigate there. Don’t be a fool. Instead, I headed in the direction of the entry door.

Something struck the back of my head on an explosion of stars and a jarring shockwave of pain. Pressure swelled in my skull and sinuses, my vision blurring in and out of focus. I swayed on my feet, desperate to keep upright, and as the room spun around, I searched for something to anchor myself, to catch my bearings again.

In the center of the nauseating whirlwind, a tall, shadowy figure watched me crash to the floor.