Chapter 38

Chapter 38

T he world was a blur of grey and black shadows as Alastair carried her through wall after wall, moving them through the palace with a speed that made her head spin.

Finally, he stopped, and color seeped back into the world as he released her.

Fey barely registered where they were—another empty bedroom, somewhere in the Western Wing—before she fell to her knees and vomited.

Alastair was saying something, but Fey couldn't understand him. Her thoughts were too loud, the colors of the world suddenly too bright.

She was kneeling there, the room reeking of sick, Alastair's voice falling on deaf ears, when Willow's heart stopped beating. Fey felt it, felt the moment she was gone, like a thread inside her heart snapping, and in an instant the place where she had been was filled with her sisters.

Lilith's shock and rage flooded through Fey like an inferno, followed by a sorrow so deep, so painful from Joy that Fey thought her heart might break and die.

And her own pain answered them. Shock. Horror. And betrayal. She pushed the emotions down the link to them, filling them with her pain, sharing their loss. Their sister was dead, and they'd only had her for such a short period of time. It wasn't fair. She was so young, so sweet, their little Willow.

Alastair was shaking her, and slowly Fey pulled herself from the pain drowning her and focused on the world around her.

"We can't stay here," Alastair was telling her. "Fey, you need to snap out of it. You're not safe here."

Not safe.

No, she wasn't safe here. Wasn't safe anywhere, anymore.

Dameon had killed her sister. She couldn't trust him, couldn't trust anyone anymore.

"Fey!"

She forced herself to look at him, forced herself back into her body. She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.

"It's not safe here for you," he repeated.

"I know," she said. This wasn't her home. Not anymore.

"Is there a safe house you can go to? Somewhere they can't find you?"

Fey shook her head. No, the safe houses were his , too. Not hers. Anywhere she could go, anywhere she felt safe, Dameon would know about, and he would find her. But then a memory floated to the surface of her mind. Another place she had once felt safe, years ago. A place no one would think to find her.

"Can you get me to Solare?" she asked. "The army training yards," she explained, seeing his confusion, pointing out the window at where the massive circular building stood somewhere in the dark. "There's a room Alice and I would go, just the two of us. No one will look for me there."

Alastair nodded, understanding. "I can get you there. It won't be pleasant," he warned. "And we'll have to stop a few times along the way, so we need to be careful. But I can do it."

"Ok," she said. She closed her eyes and let herself feel it all for just one more second. All the pain, all the loss. It filled her, touching every cell in her body.

And when it was too much, when it felt like she might be sucked into the pain forever, she called Water… and washed it all away.

"Ok," Fey repeated, opening her eyes. "I'm ready. Let's go."

Alastair hadn't been lying. It was an incredibly unpleasant way to travel, and she vomited twice more before they made it to Solare.

"Sorry," he said, gently, holding her hair back while she retched after their final Shadow Walk.

She hadn't had anything left in her stomach after the first time, but her body heaved unpleasantly as it tried to bring something, anything, up.

"It's okay," she answered breathlessly, waving him off. "I'm okay, just—" Her body heaved again, and he winced.

He'd brought them all the way to the empty wing in Solare, and Fey was pleased to find it just as dusty and forgotten as it had been the last time she'd been here, with her sisters.

The first time they'd seen Willow.

Fey's stomach clenched again, a fresh wave of pain and nausea roiling through her. When it finally passed, she managed to straighten, wiping sweat from her upper lip with a shaky hand.

"You should go back," Fey told Alastair. "To the party, I mean."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You want me to leave you, now, to go back to a party? Are you insane?"

She shook her head. What was it Willow had said to him?

I'm not crazy.

I'm practical .

"If you can get back before anyone notices you were gone, then no one has any reason to think you could be involved in what happened tonight. Dameon didn't see you, did he?"

Alastair considered it and then shook his head. "No. He was too surprised to see you there. By the time he looked at me we were already in shadow. There's no way he would know who I was."

"Then you need to get back. That party is your alibi."

"And what about you? "

I don't know .

What about her, indeed? She would be safe here, at least for a few hours while she rested and gathered her thoughts. But then what?

What was even left for her?

"I can't go back," she told him, forming the words slowly. The knowledge of that simple statement broke her heart. "At least… I can't go back and risk getting caught by Dameon. I need…" She tried to organize her thoughts, tried to focus on exactly who she could trust. "I need to get word to my sisters," she said, finally. "Somehow, someway, I need to let them know what happened. Let them know they can't trust him."

Alastair watched her closely. "You're sure you can trust them ?"

Fey nodded, refusing to even consider it. She had to trust them. If she was suspicious of them, if she decided she couldn't trust her own sisters, then she truly had nothing. For that alone, she had to believe in them, had to believe they would protect her.

"Okay," said Alastair. He slipped his hands into his pockets, and for the first time since she'd met him, he seemed awkward. Unsure.

"Come find me," he said, finally. "I can help. If you need to hide, I can hide you. If you need a new identity, if you need…" He stopped and took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "I can help, Fey. Just remember that. No matter what happens, I can help you."

Something dangerously close to tears stung her eyes. "Thank you," Fey whispered.

Then, as though realizing something, Alastair pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Here," he said. "This is Jasper's number. I trust him. If something happens to me, he'll help you out."

Alastair smiled at her. All that confidence and bravado back, as though it had never slipped in the first place. "Stay safe, Witchling," he whispered, and then he was gone, slipping out of the physical world and into somewhere else, somewhere the world was made of shadows, making his way back to the palace.

Fey waited. Waited until she was sure he was gone, waited still as a statue until she was certain, beyond any doubt, that she was alone and hadn't been followed.

Outside, the bell tower chimed the hour, and a startled owl hooted in response. It was amazing to her that the world outside of the palace was unchanged. Her world had been turned upside down, but night still fell, and life in the Eternal City continued without her.

Fey rose and made her way through the abandoned building to her old room.