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The creature reached us quickly. Faster than anything could have moved in the mortal realm. Jaw clenched, I waited.
Then, as if someone had pulled back a black curtain, the canine emerged into the light. Something about the dog seemed familiar. Like I’d met it before. Of course that was impossible, but still, the feeling the animal was an ally persisted.
“You now owe me two favors, Chosen.” The dog’s mouth didn’t move, but I clearly heard the male voice in my head. At first, the words made no sense. I frowned down at the dog, wondering if this was some trick of my subconscious. “But I have to say, the sacrifice of such potent mixed blood almost makes it worth my trouble.”
That’s when I realized who the dog really was. “Asclepius?” I said aloud.
The big black head nodded. I should have felt reassured, but my thoughts kept shifting like sand. Other voices whispered in my head. And every now and then, a flash of light or shadow would zoom by in my peripheral vision.
“Red?” Giguhl whispered. “What’s going on?”
“Shh.” I grabbed him off the ground and threw him on my shoulder. “Can you take me to her?” I asked the god.
Without another thought or action, the dog turned and trotted away. With Giguhl in my arms, I took off after him. “Red, seriously. It’s probably not a good idea to follow strange animals around right now.”
“Hush,” I said. “I know what I’m doing.” No, I didn’t at all, but my instincts were guiding me now.
Soon the lunar landscape gave way to large gray boulders. Asclepius slipped between two building-sized rocks I hadn’t seen before. He didn’t glance back to be sure I was following. He knew I would.
The entrance to the cave gaped open like a mouth in silent scream. Asclepius’s red eyes bathed the portal in blood light. “She’s down there,” the voice boomed in my head.
“Wait,” I said. “Aren’t you coming with me?”
“This is your battle,” he thought at me. “Others will appear when you need them. Good luck, Sabina Kane. You’ll be hearing from me soon. If you survive.” With that optimistic farewell, the dog turned and ran off.
Just beyond the red haze, the darkness was absolute. Even my preternatural night vision couldn’t penetrate the oppressive blackness. With a hand in front of me, I stepped forward. But when my foot lowered, it kept going.
A lifetime of throat-searing screams later, I landed on something hard and wet. I cradled Giguhl in my arms, protecting him from the drop. His little body shivered from something stronger than a chill. “Awesome call following the dog,” he said in a voice as dry as the Sahara.
Ignoring him, I stood slowly and got my bearings. The top of the cavern rose high above like a cathedral ceiling covered in stalactites. I blinked against a pulsing blue light, whose source I couldn’t locate. Shiny black crags made up the walls and stalagmites rose from the ground like onyx columns. Whispers echoed from farther in the cavern.
I hunched over and wove my way through the garden of rock formations. The air smelled like damp rock, wet metal, and fresh blood. The primordial scent was oddly pleasing. Comforting. Like coming home.
A black lake appeared ahead. Two onyx swans glided across the mirrored surface.
I blinked at the familiar image. I’d been here before. Back in October when I’d done my vision quest. Rhea had fed me a hallucinogenic tea to produce visions that eventually revealed me to be a Chthonic mage. Part of that trippy experience involved my entering a cavern that looked exactly like the one before me. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing it again because the Liminal was reading my subconscious—or because the visions had actually been prophetic.
Either way, the similarities made clammy sweat crawl across my skin. Despite my fear, my feet moved toward the edge of the inky water. A white face with dead eyes appeared just under the glassy surface. The features and red hair were vaguely familiar. But as I tried to identify him from memory, another face appeared. And another. Soon, ghostly faces slammed up against the surface in groups of twos and threes, fives and tens. I recognized them now. Every one had died by my hand. These ghosts of sins past pounded on the barrier, their mouths open and screaming words I couldn’t hear.
Through the jungle of limbs. Through the gaping, desperate mouths. Through the murky water, a light appeared. The tortured spirits ceased their frantic pleas. Surrendered to the inevitability of their watery tomb.
The pinpoint of light pulsed deep below the surface. With each passing second, the light grew in size and strength. The spirits beneath the water were drawn to the orb like swarming, ghostly moths.
The light rose and as it rose it grew larger, brighter. So blinding that I raised a hand to shield my eyes. Finally, it broke the surface in slow motion. The light morphed into a female figure in white. She rose from the water like a lotus from the swamp.
I fell to my knees.
All those months ago, when I’d first had this vision, I wasn’t able to see the face of the female in white. Back then, all I knew was that she stirred up a deep well of regret. I knelt before her now and looked up.
She was so beautiful my eyes ached. Instead of the hollow husk of a woman I’d left behind in the mortal world, Maisie looked as healthy as she had the first time we met. Her cheeks glowed pink and her blue eyes sparkled. Her body had its natural curves under the white chiton. Her curly red hair shone like a shiny red apple.
Wait. That wasn’t right. Maisie had straight hair that was streaked through with black, just like mine.
“Who are you?” I asked, suddenly unsure. She looked like Maisie but also like a stranger. One who was pure vampire.
“Shh.” She placed a cool palm on my head. “There’s no time. He’s coming.”
This goddess that looked like my sister, like me, made my memory of the real Maisie, the one lying back in the chapel, even more heartbreaking. Seeing what she might have been had I never entered her life. Never f**ked with her path. Never exposed her to Lavinia Kane’s wrath. Made my role in destroying her that much more stark and impossible to deny.
“Who are you?” I breathed again.
A voice spoke inside my head, as if the female shared a secret she didn’t dare speak aloud. Phoebe.
My mother.
I’d never met her. I’d been born second that night fifty-four years ago. The night when the struggle to give me life ended in her death.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so f**king sorry.”
