Darkness Splintered

Chapter 13

The Dušan attacked as one, all teeth, claws, and fury. And behind them rolled a writhing mass of sinuous, sluglike forms that had stalks for eyes and that seemed to bleed a white substance from all over their bodies.

I’d battled them on the fields once before. That time, the Raziq had set them on me. This time the source had be our sorceress, but where the hell was she?

Running. Azriel raised Valdis, his voice grim. There’s a door to our right. Go after her. I will deal with these abominations.

And with that, he dived into the midst of the Dušan, Valdis ablaze and spinning fire through the ether. I did as he ordered and ran to the right of the room. The door was easy enough to find – it was a larger honeycomb shape in a sea of them. I paused long enough to punch it open, and found myself in another long corridor. Ahead, disappearing into the grayness, was a long, thin shadow. Our sorceress. It had to be.

I bolted after her. I had no idea if I was running in the sense that I knew, and I guess it didn’t matter as long as I caught the bitch ahead. But it was a weird sensation, being surrounded by honeycombed walls through which other structures were visible, but everywhere was silence. There was no sense of life in this place and no sounds, not even from the battle raging behind me. I hoped like hell that Azriel was okay, that he could cope with three Dušan as well as the slug ball…

The thought froze as air hit from behind. I staggered a little, caught my balance, and swung around. The slug mass hadn’t remained in that room. It was here, chasing me. Fuck!

I sidestepped at the last moment and swung Amaya with all my might. Her blade hit the slugs and stuck hard, just about yanking me off my feet as the mass rolled on, forcing me to run beside it or lose Amaya. She screamed in fury, spitting fire that sizzled and flamed out the minute it struck the oozing sides of the writhing mass. Then I remembered the white muck was glue. I swore again and dug my heels in, pulling back with all my might. She came free with an abruptness that sent me tumbling ass over backward. This world might seem ethereal, but it had the same power to wind if you hit it hard enough. Air stirred around me again, a warning I didn’t dare ignore. I scrambled to my feet just as a second, smaller mass of slugs swept into the corridor. I swung to face it, but it arced away, avoiding the sweep of the blade. As it rolled past, white mucus exploded from its sides, forming a weblike structure as it spun toward me. I twisted away from it, and it splattered against a section of honeycomb wall, immediately sizzling and smoking. Within seconds, there was little left of either the net or the wall.

Obviously, the sorceress had added her own special touches to these slug balls, because the ones the Raziq had sent after me certainly hadn’t had that effect on the gray fields themselves. And if it could affect the fields like that, what the hell was it going to do to me?

There was no fighting these things; not before, and certainly not now that the sorceress had apparently upped their firepower. Not with just Amaya, anyway. But, unlike last time, I simply couldn’t retreat. There was a sorceress to catch and a key to retrieve.

Which left me with running.

And that’s exactly what I did. The slug balls were after me with alarming alacrity. Amaya was a fierce storm battering my thoughts, wanting to stand and fight, and frustrated that we weren’t.

Later, I promised her. We need to catch the sorceress first.

Kill, she muttered. Feed.

If we catch her, you can do both.

Faster run, she muttered.

I snorted softly. Like I wasn’t already running as fast as I could. The trouble was, even though this world was destined to become mine on my death, it wasn’t yet, and the constraints of flesh were affecting me here. I wasn’t a particularly fast runner in the real world, despite being part werewolf, and that – unfortunately – translated over to the field.

But at least the promise calmed Amaya’s storm. She still wanted to fight, but the promise of blood had quieted her for the moment.

The wind of the approaching slug masses grew stronger. I bit my lip, reaching for greater speed. The slender shadow I chased was no longer in view, so either this corridor turned or she’d already left it.

Door, Amaya said. Left.

I flung out my free hand, saw an answering flare of warm light, and threw myself through it. As I hit the ground and rolled, the slug balls went past. I jumped up, pressed a hand against the door to close it, then ran after the shadow.

We were in a wide expanse of what looked like a courtyard. Buildings soared above us, casting no shadows even though they dominated the skyline. Something swooped, and I ducked instinctively. Two forms appeared out of the gray, one that was black and winged, the other lilac and serpentine. The Dušan – mine and Azriel’s. Relief slithered through me. The Dušan might have as little luck against the slug mass as me, but at least they’d be able to delay the progress of the things.

Maybe enough for me to catch the bitch ahead, anyway.

From behind us came an odd cracking. I glanced over my shoulder. One section of the honeycombed tunnel was smoking, collapsing. A heartbeat later, the two massed balls rolled through. They didn’t even slow, just made a beeline for us.

The Dušan screamed and dove into their midst, sending gray forms scattering as they bit and slashed. Several rolling lumps re-formed out of the main two masses, the smaller ones immediately skirting around the larger two to come after me.

Amaya, flame and encase!

I jumped out of their path and swung Amaya. Purple fire trailed from her blade, hit the two masses, and rolled around them, sizzling and spitting as it encased the sinuous forms in a flaming lilac cage but didn’t actually touch them. The mass writhed with greater agitation and white muck splattered against the fiery cage. Amaya hissed and the trailing edge of her flames snuffed out, leaving the mass encased together but free. It did a long looping turn and came at me again. I jumped aside, then ran like hell.

The shadow had disappeared around the corner of a building that had an impossibly small base against a wider top, reminding me somewhat of a pyramid turned on its end. As I rounded the corner, the Dušans screamed. I glanced back, saw the Dušans rise from the midst of the two larger masses, their skins dripping with white matter and god knows what else. They twisted in midair, then dove again, teeth wide as they chopped down on gray forms and flung them left and right. They might be stopping the main two masses, but every time they tore them apart, they were creating new, smaller masses. And those smaller masses were coming after me.

I swore, but kept running. There was little else I could do. The sorceress had to be stopped, and it seemed I was the only one who could do it.

God help our worlds, I thought bitterly.

I wasn’t gaining on that shadow, but I wasn’t losing ground, either. We ran across a vast empty space, but in the distance the vague outline of a structure gradually became visible. It seemed to glow with an odd light – it was neither bright nor warm, and yet it wasn’t cold or unwelcoming. But it seemed to draw me forward, as if it were something I had to see.

It is the gates that lie ahead.

The voice was male, and it came from everywhere and yet nowhere. It hung on the ethereal air and yet reverberated through my mind. It held no threat, but I sensed it could kill without a moment’s hesitation or thought.

My grip tightened on Amaya, and yet – oddly – she didn’t react. Whatever – whoever – this being was, my sword had no sense of immediate threat.

Which didn’t mean there wasn’t.

Meaning that light is the gates? If a mind voice could come out croaky with fear, then mine undoubtedly did just that.

Yes. It is what you would call the gates to heaven and hell.

Surprise rippled through me but it was quickly pushed aside by frustration as a small sphere came out of nowhere and charged toward me. I leapt over the top of it, but it flung white goo at me, forcing me to twist in midair to miss it. I landed awkwardly, and felt pain ripple up my leg. But was that even possible when I was energy rather than flesh?

The mass began a long looping turn. I kept an eye on it, and said, Wait, what do you mean gates? Are they both here? Together?

Why should they not be? There was an odd sense of amusement in the reply, and it filtered across the gray world in much the same manner as his words did.

Because… My reply faded. In all honesty, I couldn’t actually think of a reason why the gates to heaven and hell wouldn’t be together. I guess I’d just imagined the two would always be separate. Instead I asked, Who are you?

Who am I? He seemed to ponder the question for a second, then said, I am of this place. I am all that remains of what we once were.

You’re a priest? The small slug mass had completed its circle and was coming at me again. They were persistent bastards, that was for sure. A Dušan appeared – Azriel’s, not mine – and grabbed it with a snap of its teeth, then flung it away. Then it whirled around me, buffeting me forward with the force of its wings. It was almost as if it were telling me to hurry, that they couldn’t contain the slug masses for much longer.

But given what Azriel had said, why wasn’t the priest doing something about them? If anything was an intruder, it was these fucking things.

Once, yes, the voice replied. I remain to protect.

The structure up ahead drew closer, clearer. It consisted of two high, soaring but simple arches that stood side by side, neither one particularly ornate. At least they didn’t appear so from this far away.

Well, you’re not doing a particularly good job of it, are you?

Up until that point, I’d felt no real malevolence from the remnant that was the priest, but the moment the words were out of my mouth, that changed. The air grew dark and thunderous, and it suddenly seemed like I was teetering on the precipice of an endless pit. And that the priest stood behind me, ready to push.

Amaya’s hissing ran through the far reaches of my thoughts, but her noise was muted, wary. It was as if she sensed the being who confronted us was not something she should ever attack or have any hope of beating.

You have no justification —

I haven’t? I cut in. Perhaps stupidly, given Azriel’s earlier warning about the remnants being able to cause great harm if they decide you’re an intruder. Then why is hell’s first portal open? And why the hell have you allowed a sorcerer bearing the second portal key to get so close to opening it?

There is no one in this place but you and me and the reaper who battles the twisted Dušan within private temple quarters.

No one here? Incredulity filled my mental tones. What the fuck do you call the shadow who runs ahead of us? And what do you call the things that chase me?

The heavy sensation of danger briefly lifted, and an odd sense of bafflement ran across the ether surrounding us. The Dušan battle something, but I cannot sense what.

I frowned. How was that even possible? He might be a remnant, but he was still of this place, these temples. The sorcerer was not, so how could she disguise not only her presence, but that of her creatures?

And if this priest couldn’t sense her presence, what chance would the reapers who guard hell’s gate have of seeing her?

The answer, I suspected, was a big fat zero.

There is magic at work, he continued. Magic that is powerful and dark. It has the taste of hell, and yet this place runs through it.

This place? What the hell did he mean by that?

And then it twigged. Lucian. Maybe he’d not only been teaching the sorceress Aedh magic, but dark magic as well. He’d been trapped on Earth for centuries after all – certainly more than long enough to become proficient at all types of magic, be it light or dark.

And maybe she was his very last throw of the dice. Maybe, if all else failed, the destruction of the place that had become his prison was part of his ultimate end game. That, and the destruction of the Raziq’s grand plans for freedom.

The shadow that was the sorceress ran through the left arch and disappeared. I swore. Time had run out. We had seconds left, if that, to stop her.

Can you stop the intruders hidden within that magic? Or, at the very least, contain them?

Here, yes. At the gates? No.

Naturally. I mean, it wouldn’t be that fucking easy now, would it?

Why not? I thought Aedh priests are the guardians of the gates?

I am not what I once was, he said, his voice so heavy it seemed to press down on me. I can contain the things that chase you, but I am no longer able to enter the portal’s sacred space.

Why not?

Because I will be forced to move on, and this place would be left unprotected.

Are you all that is left?

No, but we are still few.

Then gather the few and stop the things that chase me. I’ll take care of the sorceress.

He seemed to contemplate this suggestion, then said, Stray not from hell’s path, reaperess, or you will find yourself compelled into a realm that is not your destiny.

And with that, the heavy sense of impending doom abruptly disappeared. A second later, the two Dušan were circling around me, eyes afire and skin dripping with the muck and flesh of the slugs. Thankfully, there was no sign of the slug masses themselves.

I ran on, pushing for every scrap of speed I was capable of. The gates soared high above me, otherworldly, but very plain. Which was something of a disappointment. The gates to hell, at least, should have been dramatic. Or at least reflected the hell that awaited the souls who journeyed through this gateway. Had either of these arches been on Earth, I wouldn’t have given them a second glance. The only decoration was the stone vines that crept around the soaring pillars. Then I noted that the arch on the left, which at first glance looked identical to the other, had tiny thorns twisting through the leaves. Hell’s gate, I presumed.

If there was a Mijai warrior here anywhere, I couldn’t see him.

I ran through the arch and into a different space entirely. It was light, restful, and filled with a warmth that was extremely comforting. Not what I’d expected from the antechamber of hell at all.

I slowed. For some odd reason, haste didn’t seem to be appropriate – or indeed welcome – here. I was several steps in before I realized I was alone. I paused and looked behind me. The Dušan flew in agitated circles, trying to get in but unable to do so. Obviously, whatever force prevented them from getting into the inner sections of the temples also forbid entry here.

Meaning it was just me and Amaya against whatever the sorceress could fling at us.

Cope can, Amaya said. Kill will.

I wish I had half her confidence. I gripped her tighter, but felt no easier as I moved through the warm light. Sound began to leach through the air as I moved farther into the antechamber. It was a heartbeat, soft and deep. Goose bumps ran across nonexistent flesh. Hell’s heart wasn’t all that far away.

Which meant the sorceress couldn’t be, either.

The golden glow around me darkened slightly, and air tugged at my form, as if trying to hasten my progress. I glanced down. A pathway had appeared beneath me – it was brighter than the fading warmth of the antechamber, yet it seemed to have a darker essence. On either side, what looked like skeletal wisps of hands reached for – but didn’t quite touch – me. But it was the wind of their movements that I could feel urging me on.

But given the priest’s warning, hurrying was the last thing I could do right now. There was no way in hell – or out of it – I was going to risk falling off the path and into those wispy hands.

I had no doubt that they would guide me straight into the bowels of hell if I did.

The path ran ahead of me, a new section appearing with every step forward. It did a slow looping turn and then, without warning, stopped.

As did I.

Because before me lay gates, and they didn’t even remotely resemble anything I’d ever imagined the gates to hell would look like. In fact, these delicate creations, enhanced with exquisite depictions of glowing beings, trees, and animals, were so similar to what I’d thought the entrance to heaven might look like that, for a moment, I wondered if I’d somehow taken a wrong path.

Then I saw the snake. It was small, and in one corner, a tiny blot of darkness in an otherwise glowing image. But its eyes seemed to burn with an inhuman awareness, and fear crawled through me. That thing was watching. Waiting. Judging.

Gatekeeper, Amaya said. Her thoughts were wary. Respectful. Fate his.

As in, he decides which section of hell is to be your particular pleasure?

Not alone. All portals.

I scanned the gate and the immediate surrounds, looking for our sorceress but unable to spot her. But she couldn’t have disappeared. She had to be here somewhere. What happened to the first gatekeeper now that the first portal is open?

Remains.

I frowned. But the gate no longer exists. Or at least, we didn’t appear to pass it.

Still there. Not see open.

Huh. I moved forward cautiously. I still couldn’t see the sorceress, but maybe I wouldn’t. She knew I chased her, after all, and I had no doubt she also knew how to conceal her presence in this place. What I should be searching for was the key. I’d feel it if I was close enough.

Only trouble was, I had no desire to step off the path, nor get any closer to that damn snake.

Something moved.

Something that was long and sinuous and had a mouth full of teeth.

A snake. Not the snake, but just as nasty.

It formed out of the wispy ether surrounding us and lunged straight at me. Amaya screamed, her flames fierce and bright in this place, a sharp, clean contrast against the shadows that suddenly seemed to be gathering.

Hell’s gate, I realized, was about to be opened.

I swore and swung Amaya as hard as I could. Her blade swept through the snake’s form and sent it scattering. I had no idea whether she killed it and I didn’t care. I ran forward, not worrying about whether I stayed on the path, as my gaze swept the gates. There was no evidence of the sorceress’s presence anywhere near the gates themselves, which is where, logically, one would expect a lock to be. But this was the gray fields, and logic didn’t exactly apply here. I veered to the left, off the path. Wispy hands began to tear and drag at me, as if desperate to force me into their bitter, painful darkness. I swung Amaya left and right, sending the shreds whirling away. Energy slithered across my being – a caress so light it felt like little more than sparks that hit, then disappeared.

The key was near.

I ran on, my gaze on the warm light to the side of the gates. I still couldn’t see the sorceress, but she was there, somewhere.

The shadows grew thicker, the sense of impending doom stronger. Then I saw it – a flicker that grew into a flame. A flame that became a dagger, then became something else entirely – something that shone with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

The key.

The sorceress had found it.

I wasn’t going to get there. I couldn’t stop her. I swore and did the only thing I could do – I flung Amaya, with as much force as I could muster.

She arrowed through the air, her flames trailing behind her like a comet and her scream rolling across the rapidly darkening antechamber like a call to arms. The hands tearing at me seemed to pause; then as one they turned and raced after Amaya, quickly overtaking her and rushing on.

Too late.

We were all too late.

There was a blinding flash of light, followed by an explosion. Air hit, the force smashing into Amaya and sending her spinning away. A second later it did the same to me.

As I tumbled over and over, the air around me began to shudder, gently at first but gathering strength, until it seemed as if the entire field was about to shatter. Then it shifted. Dropped. The warm brightness of the antechamber flickered and, in the brief darkness, the gossamer fingers rushing forward found shape and form, became beings who were twisted and misshapen, and whose very countenance spoke of pain. Eons of pain. Then the warmth reinstated itself and the wisps became nothing more than reaching hands.

The gates were gone.

There was nothing but space in their place. Nothing but a deep and threatening sense of uneasiness.

I’d failed again.

But there was still the chance to stop this bitch going after the third key. Still a chance for some good to come from this goddamn mess. I swooped, picked up Amaya, and ran toward the fading light of the second key.

But the hands got there before me.

They pulled the shadows from the sorceress, then grabbed her, tore at her, as they ushered her forward, ushered her down. If she screamed I didn’t hear it. In fact, she didn’t even appear to struggle as she disappeared into the ether. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe the magic that had taken her safely to this point had faded away, leaving her defenseless.

I stopped. I had a bad feeling I didn’t want to go anywhere near those hands right now. That if I did, they’d take me with them.

Where are they going, Amaya? Into hell?

No. Pens.

Pens? Even as I watched, the last part of her was swept away. The hands stopped moving, but the calm warmth of this place didn’t reinstate itself. There was only one gate left. Only one gate to protect the Earth and the fields from all of hell’s demons.

Because of me. Because I’d failed to do what I’d been sent here to do.

I closed my eyes and flung myself back into my body. The force of it sent me toppling off the bed and onto the floor. Where I screamed and ranted and cried at the unfairness of it all. And at my own stupid uselessness.

Hands eventually touched me, cocooned me. I wrapped my arms around Azriel’s neck and pressed my cheek against his chest, drawing in the sweaty, bloody, and very real scent of him as I listened to the steady beat of his heart and wished mine was anywhere near as calm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered eventually. “I tried.”

“I know.” He brushed a stray strand of hair away from my cheek, his touch so warm against my skin. “The blame for this lies not just with you, but all of us who seek the key.”

I sniffed. “The rest of you weren’t at hell’s gate. I was.”

“Yes, but the path that led to that place is where the blame can be placed.” His voice was grim. “That road is scattered not just with our failure, but the failure of the Raziq to guard the place they desecrated with their conceited slaughter of the priests, and by the failure of your father to fully tell us what his chrání was capable of. And it also lies with those of us forced to take over guard duties and yet who still do not understand all the magic of that place.”

“Was it magic that prevented the Mijai at the gate from interfering?”

“Yes. He was not aware that anything was amiss until the gate opened.”

“But he sensed my presence?”

“Yes, and thought nothing of it because you wore the marks of my tribe and my energy resonated within you. But he had no sense that anything was wrong. Not until I was able to slaughter the sorceress’s Dušan and get into the temple grounds. By then, it was all too late.”

Because I’d failed to do what I’d gone there to do. He could dance around it all he liked, but that was one fact we were never going to escape.

“Will the pits hold her?”

“It would depend on how much knowledge the Aedh passed on to her.”

I shifted so I could look into his eyes. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning the priests have always been able to enter either gate at will. As the Aedh was your father’s chrání, he will have gained some – if not all – of that knowledge.”

“You should have ignored my wishes and killed that bastard when you had the chance,” I muttered. I scrubbed a hand across my eyes, smearing the remaining tears. “So what the hell do we do now?”

“Now,” an ominous, all too familiar voice said, “your friend dies.”

I scrambled to my feet, Amaya suddenly in my hands and screaming her fury. Valdis joined in the noise as Azriel rose beside me.

My father’s energy filled the room. How he’d gotten so close without us noticing I had no idea, because technically, he shouldn’t have been able to get into this place. Ilianna’s wards were still active, and they should have prevented any Aedh other than the now dead Lucian from getting in.

Of course, my father had created those wards, even if Ilianna had rerouted the magic within them. And it would be just like my parent to have created a back door within the original magic for such an eventuality as this.

“One move, Hieu,” Azriel said, voice soft and yet filled with death, “and it will be the last move you ever make.”

Amusement spun around us, thick and sharp. “Save your meaningless threats, Mijai. I have no intention of harming anyone here. Elsewhere, however, it is a different matter entirely.”

My eyes widened. “Don’t you dare touch Mirri —”

“Touch? I assure you I have no intention of ever touching another human, even if I had the capacity and the form to do so.”

“Then why threaten —”

“Oh, I do not just threaten,” he murmured. “I do. And your friend is not human as the word is defined in this world. And she is, unfortunately, no longer a part of this world.”

Someone screamed a denial. I wasn’t sure if it was me or Amaya or both of us. Suddenly she was no longer in my hand, but aiming toward the wash of heat and power that was my father’s presence in this room. Only she did so silently, and in full shadow. She was an unseen and unheard arrow of revenge.

Azriel gripped my arm, as if to hold me in place. He was speaking, I knew he was speaking, but I couldn’t hear the words, neither aloud nor in my mind. All I could see, all I could hear, all I wanted, was death.

And that’s exactly what I got.

Amaya sliced deep into the heart of the energy that was my father. For a moment, nothing happened. There was no immediate response from my father, and no reaction from Amaya.

Then her chuckle filled the silence.

There was nothing nice about that chuckle. Nothing nice at all.

Azriel swore, but the words were distant, meaningless. My mind was still with Amaya, with the destruction she was about to wreak.

He spun, wrapped his arms around me, and transported us out of there. We’d barely reappeared in the street when the entire warehouse – and everything Ilianna, Tao, and I owned – exploded into a million different pieces.

And deep within the heart of that explosion, my sword consumed the energy that was my father, sucking him dry until there was nothing but dust and memory left.

And those remnants she burned.

My father was dead. Gone.

I had my revenge, but I felt no better for it. I just felt… empty.

As empty as Ilianna’s life would be without Mirri…

Oh god, Mirri.

I didn’t think, I just reacted. In an instant I was in Aedh form and streaking across the city. The fierce energy that was the Brindle’s protective field reared up in front of me but just as abruptly gave way. I raced unimpeded through the shadowed halls, not changing shape until I neared the chamber where Ilianna, Kiandra, and Zaira had been attempting to free Mirri from my father’s noose. I hit the doors at a run, and with enough force to slam them back against the walls. The crash reverberated through the silent halls and, in the room, three figures spun.

Three, not four.

A sob tore at my throat. I stumbled, tried to catch my balance, and failed. I hit the stone floor hard enough to shred my jeans and skin my knees, but I didn’t care.

My gaze met Ilianna’s. There was nothing there. No anger, no grief. No pain. Nothing other than surprise.

I swallowed hard, and somehow managed to say, “Mirri? Is she —?”

Zaira said, “What the hell —” about the same time as Azriel appeared behind me and said, “Risa, there is no need —”

“Ilianna!” I cut them both off, my voice rising to a near shout as I added, “Is Mirri okay?”

She didn’t answer, just stepped to one side. And there, sitting on the floor, looking shocked and a little worse for wear, was Mirri.

She waved a hand as my gaze met hers, but didn’t actually speak. Though there was no sign of the energy collar around her neck, her throat was red-raw and decidedly painful-looking.

But she was alive, even if hurt, and the relief that swept through me was so great that if I hadn’t already been on my knees, I soon would have been. I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. At least one thing had gone right. It might not have been the most important thing – at least in terms of what was at stake for both this world and the other – but on a personal level, this was the only thing that really mattered. I’d done a lot of things wrong, but at least I hadn’t killed Ilianna’s heart.

Ilianna walked over, knelt in front of me, and wrapped her arms around me. She didn’t say anything, and neither did I. Not for the longest time.

“Tell me,” she said eventually.

I drew in a deep, shuddering breath and pulled away from her embrace. “My father said he’d killed her. I had no reason to believe he lied but —”

“You came here to check anyway.” Ilianna smiled, but there was a fierce light in her eyes. “We didn’t break the collar, but we did beat the bastard at his own game.”

I frowned. “Meaning what?”

“It was you who gave us the idea, actually.” She rose, dusted off her knees, then offered me a hand.

I accepted it, and climbed wearily to my feet. Azriel touched my elbow, not holding me up, but there in case I needed him.

“Or rather,” Ilianna continued, “our discussion about creating personal wards and using the wearer’s life force or aura to power the devices.”

“I’m not seeing the connection.”

Ilianna smiled. “Neither did we, not at first. But once we realized the cord hadn’t tapped into Mirri’s aural shield, it was then a matter of where else could it be getting its energy from.”

“The source was its creator,” Azriel commented.

Ilianna glanced past me and nodded. “Yes. And as Risa had pointed out, I’d learned enough of the magic to subvert her father’s wards to our own use, so it was simply a matter of unpicking the appropriate threads in the collar and rerouting those.”

She made it all sound so easy when it was obvious from the haggard appearance and tired stance of all three women that it had been anything but.

“So when my father tried to kill her —”

“The energy rebounded back to him.”

“Which would explain the fierceness of the explosion,” Azriel commented. “It wasn’t just Amaya.”

“Explosion? What explosion?” Ilianna said.

“The explosion that killed my father and destroyed our home.”

“If losing our home is the price we have to pay to rid the world of that bastard, then good riddance, warehouse.” Her voice was grim. “And the key?”

My gaze went to Kiandra. Even though her expression gave little away, I had no doubt she knew what had happened.

“The key is lost,” she said, immediately confirming my thoughts. “The second gate is open.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ilianna said.

“Yeah,” I said. “That, and a whole lot more.”

“The sorceress?” Kiandra asked.

“Gone.” I hesitated. “Maybe.”

She nodded, her expression stoic. But I had a strange feeling that nothing I’d said had surprised her. That the loss of the second key and the opening of its gate were events she’d long known would happen.

“There is still hope left,” she said softly. “At least there is as long as you and the last key remain in play.”

“If the safety of the world depends on my actions,” I said bitterly, “then heaven help the fucking world.”

She blinked; then her gaze refocused. I suddenly realized she’d been seeing into the future.

“To use a worn-out cliché, the fate of the world hangs in the balance. You must not give up, Risa, no matter what it costs or however much you might want to.”

I wouldn’t.

I couldn’t.

Hell on Earth might be one step closer, but there was no way I was about to bring my child into a world overrun by hell’s spawn.

Somehow, I’d find a way to stop the Raziq and secure the third key.

We’ll find, not you’ll find, Azriel corrected, voice stern. Whatever we do from now on, we do it together.

I twined my fingers through his but felt no safer for the comfort of his touch.

Because I knew, just as he knew, just as Kiandra undoubtedly knew, that even together we might not be strong enough to win the last, and perhaps the most important, battle of all.

The battle for life.