But the sudden crunch beneath my shiny shoes tells me it’s not ooze at all.
It’s scorpions. Thousands upon thousands of them, each one mangled and mutilated, half-dead, yet still surging forth en masse.
“What thefuck?” I breathe, taking an unsteady step backward.
As if in response, a vision of Baz flickers through my mind. He’s on his knees beneath a stone tower, scorpions devouring his flesh. Behind him, a dark mage in a blood-stained robe stands tall, his wand raised to the heavens, fire licking his palms.
Despite the flames at his command, his eyes hold no spark of life, no sign of humanity.
I know in an instant it’s Dark Judgment, just as I know it’s not some imagined vision. It’s happening. Somewhere in this forsaken realm, my brother is under attack.
And from the looks of it, he’s not going to survive it.
Fear sours my gut, tightening my muscles in preparation to fight.
“Baz!” The fevered pitch of my own voice breaks through the haze, bringing me back to my own doomsday scenario. In mere seconds, the mangled scorpions have surrounded me, spilling over my shoes and skittering up my pant legs.
I stomp hard to dislodge them and launch myself across the rift, charging onward through the mist, hoping like hell I don’t fall into another rift or come upon more dangerous foes. Despite the fact that I’m running blind in too-tight dress shoes, I don’t dare stop. Not until I find my friends. Not until we find what we came here for and get the fuck out.
My heart pounds a frantic beat in my chest, my lungs burning for more air, sweat stinging my eyes. I need to rest, to find water, but before I can talk myself into slowing down, another bone-rattling rumble shakes the earth, knocking me to my knees.
I get back to my feet just in time to see the fire.
Just a few dozen yards ahead, it chews through the mist, a swath of white flame scorching the earth. My gaze tracks it to the source—a golden chariot led by two wild horses, their driver lit by some terrible rage.
My mouth goes dry. It’s the Dark Chariot, exactly as Stevie described her from her nightmares.
She makes a wide arc, then returns, heading in my direction. I spin around in search of a new escape route, only to realize I’m not alone out here.
And, my instincts warn, I’m not her primary target.
Just behind me, two children cower beneath a rocky outcropping, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, their eyes wide with fear.
“Help us,” the little girl says. She’s wearing a white dress embroidered with tiny bumblebees, her hair tied into two shiny blonde pigtails.
“Casey?” My jaw falls open, my heart sinking into my gut as the recognition hits. That’s my sister. I remember the dress, the pigtails.
My gaze shifts to the boy in her arms.
Derrick, our younger brother. It’s definitely him—the freckles and big brown eyes are a dead ringer—but for whatever reason, he’s the same age as Casey right now. They could almost be twins.
They’re not real. This is all a trick of the realm, a trick of my own guilty conscience…
An ear-piercing howl breaks through my momentary confusion, and I whirl around to see the Chariot closing in fast.
“She came right out of the ground,” Casey says, her young voice bringing me right back to our childhood. “After it was shaking and stuff was falling on us.”
I curse under my breath, but Derrick picks up on it instantly.
“Did I do something bad?” he asks, lip quivering.
The whole thing is so fucking insane, but whatever it is, something in me believes it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s breaking my heart.
“No, buddy.” I crouch down before him. “It’s my fault. All of it.”
The Chariot is barreling down on us, the fire so close I can hear the hiss and pop as the flames devour everything in their path. The earth trembles before her, and in that moment I know it’s over. There’s nowhere for us to run. Nothing to do but say goodbye.
I pull the kids close to me, do my best to shield them from the view of our impending doom.
