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There was no sign of Loren, no sign of anything on the other side but a vast and desolate landscape, the sight rippling from the movement of the torn barrier. It felt like looking through a fishbowl, the sight wavy and distorted, the entrance splitting wider. Particles and little stones and what looked like balls of light and sparks levitated within, the large amount of them obstructing his vision.
Darien lifted a hand…slowly pushed it through the Veil—
The glove of the bodysuit dissolved, followed immediately by his skin, leaving nothing in its place but bone. A spear of pain ripped through his hand and spread right up to his elbow, causing him to shout out in alarm, the sound carrying far, drawing curse words from the others, who stepped up to see if they could help. He withdrew with a hiss, curling the bones of his fingers into a tight fist.
As fast as it had decayed, his hand returned to normal, the glove of his bodysuit restoring too. The others murmured in question.
The whole city rumbled, the ground shaking under their feet.
Darien looked up with his Sight, seeing through the road, all the way up to the sky, where winged beings shot across a starless canvas like meteors, weapons in hand.
Roark was leading the Fleet. Taking the soldiers to the defense posts surrounding the perimeter of the city.
The demons of their own world were beginning their hunt.
—
Time was moving far too quickly.
Loren’s heart raced so fast she could scarcely breathe, and her leg muscles burned like hell as she hurtled through the spirit realm, pushing herself faster than she had ever moved before.
As she ran, she tried to use her magic, tried to melt through surfaces that might lead her back into her world, but her magic was spent, and her conduit did not respond to her pleas. Not a flicker of heat, nor a flash of light. Nothing. There was nothing now that would help her, nothing but her own two feet and her will to survive.
Singer maintained a swift pace beside her, urging her to keep moving, to not slow. Whenever she began to feel bogged down, her limbs stumbling from exhaustion and strain, he would bark, spurring her to keep going. His body was white as snow. It glowed like the brightest star, the edges of his fur shimmering like a rainbow after a heavy storm, the same color shining on his sharp teeth and nails.
There was far too much ground to cover, too much distance between her and the rip in the Veil. If she kept moving at this pace, not slowing for one second, she might stand a chance at slipping through. But it would be tight, and she couldn’t falter. There was no room for mistakes, no matter how small. She could feel Death looming, ready to gobble down the last of her life, to drain her soul dry until there was nothing left of her but a husk. Still, she kept moving, running away from death, sprinting straight toward the promise of life.
Two steps later, and something collided with her from the side.
She fell to the ground with a startled cry, rolling several times, the dark purple dust of the Aether kicking up around her in a choking cloud.
As soon as she stilled, Singer was at her side. He nudged her with worry, teeth gently latching onto the fabric of her bodysuit as he tried to pull her to her feet.
Once Loren had gathered her bearings, and the dust had settled, she looked up to see a gold-eyed wolf standing several feet from her. Saliva glistened on sharp teeth.
Singer stepped in front of her, guarding her. He eased into a defensive crouch, hackles raised, a low growl rumbling up from deep in his chest as he prepared to square off against the wolf.
And then that wolf startled both Loren and Singer as it became a woman. A Warg. The animal Loren had been looking at a moment ago was now nothing but a pelt thrown across delicate shoulders. The woman had a blunt cut of strawberry-blonde hair that swayed from the shift, revealing the area below her right ear, where a crescent moon used to glow. Now, that area was unmarked, but there was a clock slightly farther down her neck, the numbers ticking away on her skin.
Two hours, which was nearly an hour longer than Loren had.
Valary Sternberg smiled. “Hello, Loren.”
—
Darien heard Max’s voice bouncing through the tunnels behind him.
Turning his back on the door into Spirit, Darien pushed through the others, who stepped away to let him pass, and met Max by the waterfalls. Conrad, Erasmus, Cyra, and Dallas were with him, and following a short distance behind their group were Lace and Arthur.
Arthur waved at him with a hand that held three long shards of black adamant, the weapons wrapped up in a towel. “It’s rough work, but I did my best!” he called.
Darien waved him by. “Give them to the others.”
Lace and Conrad followed Arthur. As Lace passed Darien, she gave him his keys.
Darien stepped in Erasmus’s path, blocking him from walking by. “I need you to tell me how to seal it. The Veil.”
Erasmus said nothing.
