Sadness and worry fill her eyes.
I hook a finger under her chin and tilt her face up once more. “We’ll find him, Stevie. I promise.”
Nodding, she takes my hand, and together we make our way along one of the only pathways that wasn’t decimated by my storm. All around us, rocks and boulders lay smashed and scorched, the entire landscape like some post-apocalyptic wasteland.
“I need to tell you something,” she says, and I feel her hand tighten around mine, as if she fears she’ll scare me off again.
I squeeze back, a silent promise.
“I met someone here,” she continues. “Well, re-met, is more like it. Lala.”
“Lala Juarez?” I can’t quite wrap my head around it. Lala is a friend, but we don’t see or speak of her much. Cass knows her better than the rest of us, but even he barely mentions her. From what I understand, she’s extremely private and mysterious, and hardly ever leaves her home in the desert. “How the hell did she end up here, tonight of all nights?”
Stevie takes a deep breath, then says, “She’s one of us, Kirin. The High Priestess.”
She tells me the whole story—how Lala hid the sacred objects in the dream realm years ago, what we’re risking by taking them out. Lala’s theories about how the Dark Arcana manifest, and how they’ll exploit our every weakness to get what they want. It’s all so simultaneously terrifying and fascinating, my brain doesn’t know how to respond. Fear? Hopelessness? The nerdy excitement of a lifelong academic on the verge of a major discovery?
“None of this is in the lore books we’ve researched,” I say, defaulting to the world where I’m most comfortable. Research is a puzzle, and puzzles can be solved. We just need to find all the pieces.
And tonight, we’re closer than we’ve ever been.
“I’m pretty sure we’ll have to rewriteallthe lore after this,” she says. “Along with half my mother’s prophecies.”
Her eyes go far away, but before I can ask her what’s wrong, she’s right back with me, filling me in on the rest of Lala’s intense lessons.
“You’re basically blowing my mind right now,” I say. “You know that, right?”
“Yes, and if we were back in the library, I’d be happy to encourage your patented Genius Boy Arcana Lore hard-on.”
“Noted.” I crack up at the imagery. “But…?”
“Seriously? Look around!” She runs off the path, spinning in a circle and sweeping a hand across the ruined lands. “We’re in hell, and all you can think about is how to work this into a thesis!”
I catch up to her, capturing her hand and pulling her back onto the path. “First of all, we’re not in hell. And secondly… I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s just that it all makes sense now.”
“It all…what?” A maniacal laugh bubbles out from between her lips. “Kirin, let’s consider the facts here. We are currently stuck in a nightmare realm. You’re wearing an extra crispy tuxedo and I look like a 1980s hair-band video reject. We’re traipsing through this sulfur-scented wasteland looking for our missing brother and a magickal sword that will either save us or usher in the demise of the entire world. There are at least three psychotic dark Arcana mages on the loose, one of which has a wand in his possession that turns people into toast crumbs. And let’s not eventalkabout my hair. Have you seen this monstrosity?” She grabs a fist full of her wild, flower-studded curls. “In what world doesanyof this make sense?”
“No, I mean… I thought I was going crazy. I just saw my whole family die here, right before my eyes, and I thought I’d finally lost it.”
“Wait.” Stevie’s eyes go wide. “You saw your family die?”
“Yes. I mean, not exactly. It was more like a dream—like, my parents and siblings were here, but they were all the wrong ages. My siblings were little kids. My parents turned into skeletons. And this tuxedo?” I yank on what’s left of the lapels, offering a cheesy grin. “Yeah, it’s basically a funhouse version of the worst night of my life.”
“Kirin, that sounds terrifying.”
“It was. But now I understand it was just a projection. A manifestation of all the shit I haven’t dealt with. Get it?”
She cocks a dubious eyebrow. “From the worst night of your life?”
“Exactly!”
“Kirin, I don’t understand. What is happening?”
I blow out a breath, and she looks up at me expectantly, the mood taking a dark turn.
All the nonsensical humor of the last five minutes vanishes in a puff.
Damn it, I would’ve given anything to let the past stay neatly tucked under the rug. But that’s the thing about trying to sweep things under the rug—no matter how hard you try, there’s always more dirt.
