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The power flared back to life. The lights flickered on. The ceiling fan resumed its spinning—
The last thing Tamika saw was the glint of a knife.
Gripped by her mother’s pale hand.
Epilogue
ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE
Cyra could not remember the last time she had felt fear this strong. Her heart was pounding, her stomach churning like a whirlpool as she watched the news channel with Erasmus in their townhouse.
The screen went black as the camera in the heart of Yveswich was swallowed by a deadly explosion of shadow.
It’s happened, she thought. Her hand fluttered to her mouth.
The Veil had fallen.
It was only a matter of time now before the rip between worlds spread wider. Yveswich was a sealing point—the most vital one. The cold, historic city, with its waterfalls, canals, and ancient, labyrinthine tunnels, was the place where she had funnelled her magic all those years ago, stitching the seam separating dimensions. A lifetime ago.
Back then, she had gone by a different name: Helia. The name, like Cyra, meant ‘sun’, though Cyra, in some languages, could also mean ‘moon’. Both names were fitting, given her history.
Sun, Moon
Moon, Sun
What are we but two sides to the same coin?
The same but different
Different but the same.
Cyra had left that identity behind—a decision made with the best intentions. Had she known that it would lead to this—to tragedy and destruction—she never would have done it.
Her daughter was there—in Yveswich. Her sweet Lily.
“Loren is there.” Cyra’s hoarse whisper was choked by panic.
Erasmus clasped her hand, his own trembling. “She’ll be alright,” he said gently. “She’s with him.” Her husband’s words did no good. Nothing and no one would be able to save their daughter—save any of them—from this. Not even Darien Cassel. Not anyone. This was something far bigger than Darkslayers. Far bigger than their world.
“We have to help them,” she said.
“How?” Erasmus croaked.
Now that the spell was broken, they could speak freely to others about the Phoenix Head Society instead of just to each other. Now, they might stand a fighting chance. Might be able to right their many wrongs.
But neither Cyra nor Erasmus were the same as they once were. They were different now, their powers long gone.
Still, Cyra whispered, “We have to try.”
The live newsfeed was still black. The camera kept recording, but there wasn’t one lens in the city that wasn’t blacked out by the Void. The news anchors were fleeing—she could hear them shouting and screaming as they abandoned their jobs and made a run for it. Howls and baying ripped through the speakers, along with the spitting of rapid-fire gunshots and the raw, desperate screams of the people as they were eaten alive.
Cyra swallowed. “He will be coming.”
Erasmus’s eyes locked on hers, his fear mirroring her own. He knew exactly who she meant.
He was coming. And the moment he got here, this world she had fought so hard to protect would not stand a chance.
