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Taega tightened her crossed arms, her disbelieving gaze flicking throughout the group. Her attention lingered on Blue, followed by Cyra, who she looked at a moment longer, her eyes tightening. Then she said, “Explain.”
Max was the one who answered. “The Veil has been damaged. The imperator has managed to fully open a doorway into the spirit realm, and we need the stones so we can seal it again. The Blood Moon is calling out to not just the creatures in our world, but also the ones in Spirit Terra. They are trying to push through, and if we don’t stop them on time—”
“Is this why the forcefield is down?” Taega asked.
“Yes.” And if they didn’t hurry, all power in the city would likely go out too, stripping all of Angelthene’s streets and buildings of spell protection, which was the only thing currently keeping the citizens safe, the power outage that’d happened earlier only having affected Angelthene Academy, likely courtesy of the imperator. And not only would it strip the buildings of protection, but all the cars would stop working too. No one would be able to leave this city. No one would be able to call for help. Radios might work, if they were lucky, but every mobile phone in the city would become useless.
Taega studied them for a minute. The room was filled with frantic heartbeats, Taega’s among them. Her eyes flicked to the windows at Max’s back. He wasn’t sure what she saw, wasn’t sure what conclusion she’d drawn, but she was walking then, heading to the master bedroom down the hallway to her right.
She emerged a minute later with the Moonstone in her fist. Who knew where the hell that had been hiding, but they had done a really good job of keeping it from being found.
Taega stepped up to Max, who held out his hand. She placed the Moonstone in his palm and curled his fingers into a fist. “Seal that fucking Veil,” Taega said, her voice low, eyes boring into Max’s. “If you fail, our world will not stand a chance.”
Max hated both Roark and Taega equally, but damn could they pull through when they were needed the most.
Taega faced her daughter. Dallas stiffened under her mother’s sudden inspection, her chin slightly trembling as she lifted it.
“I have to get to your father,” Taega said. “Stay safe. Do your family proud.” She passed by Dallas without another word, reaching out toward her cheek as if to touch her.
She didn’t.
—
The way out of Spirit Terra was close, but still too far.
Loren had been running for so long that her legs wobbled like jelly, and she had sucked down so many gasping breaths that her lungs felt stretched out and flaming hot. Still, she kept going, eyes watering as wind tore at them from the speed at which she was moving.
About a dozen feet ahead, a petite black shape appeared out of nowhere. It took her a while to recognize him, the little figure so tiny the top of his fiery head barely reached halfway up her calf. Red eyes were watching her with concern, and webbed hands were waving frantically through the air as he attempted to direct her.
“Mortifer.” The Hob’s name left her lips on a shaky breath.
He waved her toward a massive, gnarled tree nearby, where a giant mouth in the trunk of it led down into the ground. Loren did not slow as she followed Mortifer to the tree. The mouth was lined with jagged pieces of wood that looked like sharp teeth. Inside was a swirling, velvety black indicating that a piece of the curtain that separated worlds lay within.
Loren wasted no time in climbing into the mouth of the tree and slipping into the curtain of the in-between. Tiny rainbow sparkles floated around her, bright against the black. Her blood vibrated, and her brain rattled in her skull as she adjusted to the feel of it, her limbs turning weightless as she slipped, down and down, sliding through the Divide like melted butter.
The adjustment came quickly, and the return of her vision was welcome as her surroundings solidified and she found herself standing in that dark barrier, the darkness swirling around her, those tiny stars and galaxies drawn to her skin like static electricity.
Mortifer appeared a moment later, and she followed him through the Veil, keeping up with his pace at a sprint. Her heart was slamming in her chest, and she was painfully aware of the passing of every second marked by her heart beats. She tried to ignore it, but it was like a drumbeat counting down the time she had left, and there wasn’t much of it. Still, she kept going, every muscle in her body shrieking in defiance as she pushed herself, faster and faster, hoping Mortifer had a shortcut that would save her from the clock on her neck.
It was a funny thing, the Life Clock. She’d always thought of her tattoo much the same way, a health problem that would eventually get the better of her. What she wouldn’t give to go back to having only one symbol glowing on her body.
It felt like an eternity had passed by the time Mortifer led the way to another entrance into Spirit. It was a shortcut, and it brought her out not far from the rip in the Veil.
But she was still in Spirit, unable to get into her world.
In the distance, she could see it—the weak area in the shimmering wall below Angelthene.
The only question was how much time she had left to get there, but she wasn’t willing to look at the clock and check.
So, she started running again.
Mortifer kept pace with her and Singer, the two of them moving surprisingly fast. Demons were swarming the area, and they turned to look at her, baring their teeth, as she ran, but she didn’t slow. She didn’t meet any of their eyes, praying they would show no interest in her. They seemed mesmerized by something—by the Blood Moon, she realized.
The time left on her Life Clock kept winding down, each second that was gulped up by Spirit pulsing through the skin on her arm, like a second heartbeat.
Ten seconds. Thud-thud.
Nine seconds. Thud-thud.
