25. Amber

"I'll do my crystal first,"Blaze says, and he takes the quill out of his pack, slicing its tip into his palm before I can blink.

Once it's coated in his blood, he hovers the quill over the crystal, pausing as he stares down at it.

A few more seconds pass, and he doesn't start writing.

"Something wrong?" Damien asks, looking slightly pleased with himself.

"All good," Blaze says, although he hesitates, and quickly adds, "Would you mind spelling the word out for me?"

"No problem." Damien recites the spelling, and as he does, Blaze carves the letters into his forearm.

Morgan stares on in shock. "Are you making yourself unbreakable?" she asks.

"I wish." Blaze scoffs. "I can't do blood magic on myself. I just want to make sure I don't forget the spelling."

I don't blame him. I can't spell it, either.

This time, when Blaze picks up the first crystal, he uses the quill to write on it with his blood. His hand is steady as he inscribes each letter, and as he continues, the crystal begins to glow.

Finally, he finishes and lifts the quill from the crystal's surface.

Its glow lights his face, accentuating his sharp features, then dims back down.

"It worked?" I ask, even though from the way it glowed, I have a feeling it did.

"I think so," he says. "I'll do the rest of them, then we can test it out."

Once he's finished, we get back into position, and the weight of responsibility presses down on me harder. This is our last try without having to trust that Blaze's spell will allow us to use the crystals twice. If I get it right, we won't have to worry about if the spell worked or not. We can just open the portal and get out of here.

"Ready?" Damien asks me.

I nod, trying to channel his calmness. "Ready," I reply, my voice steadier than I feel.

Studying my crystal—which feels less fragile in my hand—I gather my magic and direct a beam of light through it, into Damien's. It flows seamlessly from mine to his, and then to Morgan's.

Holding my concentration harder than ever, I nudge it toward Blaze's crystal next.

It connects.

But the farther the light gets from me—the more crystals that are refracting it—the harder it gets to control.

I focus so intensely to direct the light toward the big crystal on the door that it feels like my brain's about to explode… and fall short by a few inches.

My heart sinks, and I brace myself for someone—likely the Abbot—to say something snide. To declare again that I'm unworthy.

But the voice that breaks the silence isn't his. It's Damien's, calm and encouraging.

"You're almost there," he says. "Just a slight tweak, and you should have it."

"The crystals will shatter," the Abbot says. "You're finished."

"They won't shatter," Blaze says, confident and steady, not bothering to give the Abbot the time of day by looking at him.

"They won't," I agree. "And we don't need to try standing on different discs. I almost had it last time. I can do it from this angle."

None of them fight me on it.

They trust me.

Their confidence boosts my resolve, and I refocus, shaking off the Abbot's doubt.

Once I feel centered enough, I shoot my magic through my crystal again.

It doesn't shatter.

Excitement rushes through me. But I can't mess this up. So, with a precision I haven't had so far, I stay focused as the light cuts through the air, hitting Damien's crystal, then Morgan's, and then Blaze's, just like I managed before.

Now, the door.

My light hits its giant crystal dead center.

Shocked, I watch as the glow from the impact spreads outward from the center of the crystal, a brilliant light that glows brighter and brighter until I'm forced to turn away and close my eyes. It's like that for a painfully long, few seconds, and I hold out a hand, as if I can stop the light from brightening any more.

Did I make the crystal explode instead of opening it?

Just when I'm wondering how quickly it'll take to die from an exploding crystal, the light dims behind my lids.

Slowly, I lower my hand and open my eyes.

The door's standing wide open, the light settled into a gentle, swirling glow that illuminates a path into the mystical realm.

I squint, trying to see what's beyond the portal, but it's impossible to tell.

It's so different than when we entered the mystical realm at Grand Central Station. There wasn't a grand, swirling light there. Just a door that led into a creepy black void. And in the story Morgan told me about her and Blaze entering the mystical realm in the Alps, they had to pass a test and cross a deadly bridge.

Then there's the fae realm, which transforms around you at the same time each night.

I suppose no two entrances into the mystical realm are the same.

"So," I say, staring at it in awe, barely aware of the others gathering around me. "Do we just… walk through?"

Instead of answering my question, Morgan hands her crystal to me. "Take these," she says, glancing at the others to do the same. "They belong to you."

I almost tell her that we should each hold onto our own crystals. But I stop myself, because there's something in her eyes that makes me feel like she wants me to take them for a reason.

"Sure," I say, and I grab my pack from where it's sitting nearby, stuffing the four crystals inside it.

"You did a good job," Damien says after the crystals are secure.

He's also grabbed his pack, and he looks ready to get out of here. Morgan and Blaze have their packs on them now, too.

"It took me long enough," I say, since even though I'm relieved I eventually did it, I wish I'd been able to get it on the first try.

"You should accept the compliment and say thank you," he says. "Queens take praise graciously, and they never diminish their own accomplishments."

So, now I'm getting lessons on how to be a queen.

"How about we get the Solar Scepter, save the city from the shadow souls, and then start my royal etiquette lessons?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him.

"Queens don't glare at people, either," he adds. "Especially not at their husband, while surrounded by onlookers."

I can't tell if he's serious, or if he's doing this for his own amusement, to press my buttons.

I don't ask. Because all I can do is repeat that one word in my mind.

Husband.

I'm married. To Damien.

The wedding doesn't feel real. I don't feel like I'm somebody's wife.

"Queens also don't open portals just to stare at them and not walk through," I finally say, and to make my point, I stride past him and make my way to the portal.

"Wait!" someone calls out—the Abbot.

I spin around and look at him, on the floor, with his hands tied behind him. His face has cuts on it from the fight, his robes are singed, and his expression is more scared than angry.

The other monks look just as pathetic.

At least we were careful. None of their injuries are fatal.

"Yes?" I ask, waiting for him to continue.

"You did that spell on the crystals," he says. "Can you do anything to heal my men? To make us stronger?"

"I didn't do the spell on the crystals," I remind him. "Blaze did. I can't do magic like that."

The Abbot's gaze turns to Blaze. "Will you help us?" he asks.

"My magic isn't endless," Blaze says, not sounding moved by his plea in the slightest. "I need to save it for whatever's lying beyond that portal."

"But you have the power," the Abbot insists, desperate now.

"And you had the power to give us those crystals when we asked," he says. "You attacked us instead. That was your choice. Now, it's time for us to leave."

And then, without further discussion, he strides toward the portal and steps through, into whatever's waiting for us on the other side.

"Blaze!" Morgan calls out, and in a blink, she hurries after him, her hair whipping around her face as she disappears into the swirling light.