22. Morgan

My fire’s burningbright within me, ready to come out and give the Kobold a scorching of the century.

“Wait!” he booms, raising a giant hand for us to stop. “There is another way.”

I flinch back in surprise, call back my fire, and exchange a wary look with Blaze.

The Kobold isn’t making any other moves to attack. But this could be a trick. So, while I hold back my fire, I keep it flickering beneath the surface of my skin, ready for anything.

Blaze locks eyes with the Kobold and takes a protective step toward me.

“What do you mean?” he asks the monster, keeping his stance defensive.

The Kobold’s grin widens, revealing his sharp, jagged teeth again.

He really likes showing off his teeth.

“I’m not without mercy,” he says, although from the looks of his beastly form, he has to know that’s hardly the logical conclusion. “So, I’m offering you a choice for another type of toll. A magical object of your choosing, or your deepest secret that the other doesn’t know. And as a warning, don’t lie about which secret is your deepest. I’ll be able to tell if you are. And, because I’m having a good day—and because you make an interesting pair—I’ll accept one of either token as passage for both of you. A generous deal, is it not?”

My stomach bottoms out.

My deepest secret that Blaze doesn’t know is that I’m a blood witch.

I’m not willing to share that one. Not yet, and possibly not ever.

So, what am I willing to give?

“If you choose to share a secret, I won’t tell it to anyone,” the Kobold says in a way I think is meant to be reassuring. “I simply get pleasure from learning it—and from knowing that I forced someone to share a secret with someone else. There’s not much else around here to keep me entertained all day.”

You seemed pretty tight on time while we were working on that riddle, I think, although I bite back the comment, reminding myself to not poke the beast.

I have more important things to worry about right now.

A magical object.

My deepest secret isn’t an option, so it has to be a magical object.

I have the Wraithmist Flask—the one the Shadow Lord used to make the shadow souls invisible so they could invade the Fairmont. The one Gwen and Benjamin—two of the vampires in the Blood Coven—had in their possession before it “mysteriously” ended up in the hands of the Shadow Lord.

But my visions have hinted, with their usual cryptic nature, that the flask might come in handy later.

I glance at Blaze, ready to ask his thoughts, but he purposefully avoids my gaze.

What’s he thinking?

What’s he planning?

His hand drifts toward his pack.

The book. That’s where we’re keeping the book.

We need the book.

I can’t let him hand it over.

Without a second to spare, I reach into my own pack, pluck the teardrop-shaped flask from it, and thrust it in front of the Kobold.

“We’ll give you this,” I tell him, my hands shaking, the flask’s silvery sheen glimmering in the light. “The Wraithmist Flask.”

The Kobold tilts his head in curiosity. Then, just when I think he might say no, he takes the flask—which is incredibly tiny in his large hand—and studies it.

“It was forged by witches centuries ago,” I explain, in case he doesn’t know what it is. “When uncorked, it releases a vapor that makes the user—and anyone nearby who they want to affect—invisible and intangible.”

The Kobold holds it up to the light, continuing to study it. “Interesting,” he finally says. “Tell me more.”

And so, I do. I tell him the word—claritas—that needs to be said to reverse the spell. I explain the materials the flask is made from. I tell him how the vapor inside it is witch blood, soaked overnight in the light of the full moon.

“My blood is already inside it,” I finish. “All you have to do is uncork the flask under the full moon, let it sit overnight, and the vapor will be ready to use the next day.”

“Fascinating,” he says, and he refocuses on me, considering it. “But what am I to do after using the vapor, when I don’t have more witch blood to refill it with?”

An excellent question.

“Find another witch who’s willing to fill it with their blood?” I suggest.

“And what if no witches come my way to do this for me?”

“I don’t know.” I huff, exasperated now. “You told us we could pay the toll with a magical object of our choosing. Not with a magical object that you like or that you want.I’m giving you the Wraithmist Flask, which is a powerful magical object. I’ve fulfilled your request. Now, let us cross the bridge so we can enter the Valley of the Vanished and be on our way.”

The Kobold stares at me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable.

As much as I want to glance at Blaze to see his reaction, I refuse to look away from the Kobold. I won’t let this monster see me as weak or easily fooled.

Just as I think he’s about to say no, he slowly steps aside. “Very well,” he says. “Proceed. But remember, the journey ahead is fraught with peril. You’ll need more than magic to survive the Valley of the Vanished.”

Wow.

It worked.

He’s letting us pass.

Blaze reaches for my hand, and sparks dance across my skin. “Come on,” he says, his voice low, his eyes locked on mine as we make our way toward the bridge.

We did it.

We passed the Kobold’s test.

But suddenly, I can’t focus on anything other than the river rushing below the bridge.

Given my affinity to fire, water isn’t exactly something I love. And is it just me, or is the water moving faster than it was when we first got here?

“It’s okay,” Blaze says, bringing me back into focus. “We’ve got this.”

He doesn’t look any more thrilled about the water than I feel, but the Kobold is waiting, and I don’t want to give him time to change his mind.

Blaze’s grip tightens, as if assuring me we’re safe, and we walk to the start of the bridge together, staring out at it.

The bridge isn’t wide enough for us to walk side by side. Plus, given its lack of handrails, it’s best to stay as far away from the edges as possible.

“I’ll go first,” Blaze says. “To test out each plank and make sure it’s sturdy.”

Before I can argue, he’s stepping onto the bridge, his hand no longer holding mine. He moves slowly, carefully, testing different places on each plank before putting his full weight on them.

I watch his every move, trying to memorize the safe spots.

Then, I follow.

One step at a time, I tell myself. We’ve got this.

The wood creaks ominously under our weight, the water splashing up from the river rushing below. Its mist coats my skin, and its roar fills my ears, my lungs tightening as I imagine plunging down and sinking into its icy depths.

“Morgan,” Blaze says my name, and I realize I’ve stopped walking, frozen as I stare down at the river. “We’re almost there.”

A glance ahead shows that we’re definitely not almost there. We’re not even halfway there.

This was a terrible idea.

Why didn’t I just fire travel to the other side? Why didn’t I even think about fire traveling to the other side?

Because I didn’t want Blaze to cross alone, I think, the answer coming to me quickly.

Plus, this bridge is the entrance to a different realm. I can’t fire travel between realms. And crossing the bridge is a right a passage to earn our way into the Valley of the Vanished.

Who’s to say I wouldn’t get jumped by something on the other side if I tried to cheat?

But, despite the excuses, I just didn’t want Blaze to cross alone.

Instead, I’m letting both of us put our lives on the line. Not the smartest thing in the world, but this bridge is made of wood and basically falling apart as it is. If I try to fire travel now, I could char the entire thing and send us tumbling into the river.

Not going to happen. Neither of us is going to drown today.

So, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.

The only way across is forward.

Feeling more confident, I stay close behind Blaze. He constantly looks over his shoulder to check on me, making sure I’m okay before taking his next step.

We find our rhythm after crossing the halfway point.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe we’re going to make it without?—

A sharp crack shatters my thoughts.

My foot plunges through a rotted plank, and for a heart-stopping second, I’m falling.

Time stills as terror sweeps over me, and I’m frozen, only aware of the dark, white-capped river that’s about to swallow me whole.

Then, with a jolt, Blaze’s arms lock around my waist in a firm, unyielding grip. The momentum swings me back onto the bridge, and just like that, I’m safe.

“Got you.” His breath is warm against my ear, and the sound of the river fades, replaced by the rapid beating of my heart.

But the moment is fleeting, broken by the creak of another plank.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me forward, throwing all attempts of being careful out the window. “Run!”

There’s no time to think. No time to question.

There are only our feet pounding against the wood, and I swear I feel the planks give way behind us, although I don’t dare look over my shoulder to check.

With one final leap, fueled by fear and adrenaline, we land on solid ground.

My final look at the bridge is seeing the last of it collapse into the water with a thunderous crash.

The river quickly sweeps away the rotted planks.

That could have been us.

My legs shake, my heart pounds, and I dig my fingers into the soft earth, as if it can keep me safe.

“We did it.” I take a moment to catch my breath, my eyes meeting Blaze’s in a shared moment of relief.

He throws back his head and lets out a victorious laugh, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. “We did,” he agrees, and then he gets himself together, as serious as ever as he holds my gaze. “We’re a good team.”

“You saved me,” I say, breathless. “I was about to fall into that river, and you saved me.”

“Of course I saved you.”

“You could have fallen in with me.”

“You’re the one who dragged me on this crazy quest in the first place,” he says, as if the fact that he saved my life is no big deal. “It would have been pretty annoying if you died on me before we could really get started.”

I can’t help but laugh—a sound that feels oddly out of place in the eerie silence following the bridge’s collapse.

“Yeah, I suppose that would have been inconvenient.” I roll my eyes and reach for my phone, which is thankfully still secured in my pack.

Unfortunately—and unsurprisingly—there’s no service. There’s not even a hint of service. There’s only that SOS warning on the part of the screen where the bars usually show.

“Anything important?” Blaze asks, amused.

“No signal.” I tuck my phone back into my pack, the reality of our isolation sinking in.

It’s just me, Blaze, and whatever waits for us in the Valley of the Vanished.

“Well, there goes my plan to livestream the adventure.” He stands up, brushing dirt off his hands and snapping me back into focus. “I suppose the world will just have to anxiously wait for our triumphant return.”

I smile a bit, which makes him smile right back.

For a second, it doesn’t feel like we just narrowly escaped falling to our watery deaths.

He reaches down to help me up, and when I take his hand, warmth travels from my fingers all the way to my chest. The air crackles between us, the starbursts in his eyes holding me captive. The fire in my veins urges me to move closer to him, to pull him to me to make sure he’s really here, with me, by my side for this crazy ride.

From the way he’s looking at me, I can’t help wondering if he’s feeling the same way.

But no. We’re not here to get lost in each other’s eyes… or whatever’s going on here.

We’re here to find the witch’s cottage, where she’s guarding the Crimson Quill.

To bring the quill back to our realm, and to get that potion out of Amber’s body.

To reclaim the city from the darkness threatening to swallow it whole.

So, I shake off the way my body’s reacting to Blaze’s touch and refocus on the current situation: navigating these mountains with no cell service to speak of.

Luckily, we prepared for this.

I rummage through my pack, pulling out the compass we picked up in town. It’s a regular, human compass—nothing as extravagant as the Astral Compass Viktor stole from Damien in the subway—but it’s enough to give us the help we need.

Now, it’s time to put it to use.

I smile at Blaze, even though it’s clear he’s just as shaken from that moment between us as I am. “Anyway…” I say, hoping to break the tension. “I guess it’s good thing we don’t need Google Maps for directions.”

With that, I rotate around before he can reply, using the compass to point us southeast. Into the heart of the Alps and deeper into the Valley of the Vanished, where the Crimson Quill hopefully awaits.