It screams as black wisps start drifting away from it. The black wisps disappear into the blizzard, fading from existence.
And then it is gone.
I pull my power back, letting the storm die down, until only soft flurries drift from the sky. Slowly, I turn in a circle as I search for any sign of the shadow creature. But there’s nothing there, and I no longer sense it.
It’s gone. It’s truly gone.
The clouds suddenly part above me, and the sun shines down across the black-frosted landscape.
But why hasn’t the black frost disappeared along with the creature?
Gods, I cannot fathom how far the ruin stretches in all directions.
I flap my wings once, twice, then bolt down toward the forest. Toward Gwen. Her warmth remains a part of me, her mind continually brushing against mine, comforting me, helping to ease the darker part of my nature that I just called upon.
I land in the clearing before her. Our eyes meet, and the affection flowing through the bond deepens. She straightens and lets go of the necklace.
“My dearest.” I step forward, looking her up and down, then take her in my arms, relieved that no harm came to her.
She is alive, and she is whole. We both are. Thank the gods. Thank the fates.
“Merak,” she breathes. “Merak.”
I rest my forehead against hers, panting as I hold her close.
When we finally pull apart, we both take in the devastation, and I sense her worry through the bond. The black frost still hasn’t faded, and like me, she fears how far it stretches.
She gasps when the trees closest to us begin to wither, their branches drooping beneath the covering of black frost, and the glow of ussha is entirely absent.
Suddenly, she reaches for the key on her necklace again.
We exchange a look.
Through the bond, I realize she’s searching her memories. She’s thinking of the day the strange elderly man rushed up to her in the market of Braemar and handed her the necklace, urging her to never take it off. Urging her to keep it for a time when all hope seemed lost.
I draw in a sharp breath as I recall her description of the elderly man. Wrinkled and very tan like a sailor, but with a polished voice… and mysterious. The key holds some kind of ancient power. That much is obvious. Somehow, as she murmured my name while clutching the necklace, I was able to call upon magic I didn’t know I possessed, allowing me to destroy the shadow creature.
“A Fatekeeper,” I say. “The man who gave you that necklace… I think he was a Fatekeeper. Fatekeepers are said to carry keys and even stones that possess great power, though they have a specific purpose and are usually only meant to be used once.”
Fatekeeper. Through the bond, I know she’s never heard the terms before, but she still understands. She knows the elderly man was no ordinary man. He wasn’t human or fae, but something other. Something ancient as the very first stones that were laid in the two original fae courts.
She nods slowly, then yanks the chain off her neck. She turns the key over in her hands, and I step back to give her room. She studies the tarnished pendant and focuses on the notches on the bottom, notches that almost look like… roots.
We exchange another look.
She crouches to the ground and places a hand on the black frost that covers everything. I join her, watching as she keeps turning the key in her hand. Her eyes widen. She glances at me and then tries to plunge the key into the ground, but it won’t penetrate the black frost. Somehow, the frost is growing harder, becoming a solid blackness that encases the land.
I instinctively form a fist and bring it down upon the frost, shattering the layer of blackness on the forest floor between us, then I quickly push the debris aside, revealing the grass beneath that is already withering.
Gwen holds the key closer to the ground, and the notches at the bottom transform, twisting as though they are growing into roots. She draws in a quick breath and then plunges the key into the soil, pushing it so deep that it disappears entirely.
Then she rises to her feet and steps back. I stand and join her, watching the ground. Waiting. I can’t claim I understand fully, I can’t even claim I know what is about to happen, but I trust that the fates brought Gwen and me together for a reason. Fated mates are said to complement one another in different ways, and perhaps this is something we were always meant to do together.
The ground shudders, and I sweep Gwen into my arms and grab my rucksack in one quick movement. I launch into the sky, holding her close as we both look at the ground below. Watching. Waiting. Even praying.
“At a time when all hope seems lost,” she whispers as though to herself.
Then it happens.
