Ava placed a hand on her chest as her heart skipped a beat.
“Only powerful astral fae can handle them. It will instantly kill anyone else. Don’t ever touch it.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice wavering.
“Well…Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“We’re going to see what’s in there.” He pointed to the tablet.
“How?”
“You’ll see. Take my hand.”
“No. Absolutely not. You just said that thing could kill me.” She took a step back. “You do it and tell me what you find.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. We’re in this together now. Hold on tight.” He placed the fragment into the indentation in the center of the tablet and snatched her hand.
“No, Jareth. Wait—” Ava tried yanking from his grasp, but he was much stronger than her.
Holding his hand above the magical object, he murmured in another language. The star fragment glowed even brighter. The temperature in the room soared, stifling Ava’s breath. Energy crackled in the air.
“Jareth…” she gasped as a tiny bolt of lightning zapped her arm.
He ignored her, continuing the incantation.
With a surge of power, the star fragment flared—the light so harsh Ava was forced to close her eyes. A sudden pop echoed softly.
And everything disappeared.
29
It was as though Ava was in a fog, detached from her surroundings, her body. Floating in an endless abyss. She couldn’t feel Jareth’s hand anymore, couldn’t see anything aside from gray nothingness.
Light in the distance approached, closing in until it illuminated both her and Jareth. She met his gaze and he gave her a nod, gesturing before them.
“Watch,” he said.
The light changed into colors, then a picture. Like they were spectators in a theater, watching the journal entries unfold on a screen.
An outdoor garden sat before them, covered in snow. Massive rose bushes lined the walkways, the flowers thriving despite the frigid temperature, their blood red blooms stark against the white powder. Ice sculptures adorned the space—carved renditions of old fae kings and queens as evidenced by the crowns they bore.
“Where is this?” she asked.
“It looks like Frosthaven,” Jareth replied.
The sound of laughter erupted and the picture came into view more clearly.
A group of four fae sat around a wrought iron table, deep in conversation as they drank wine from silver goblets. Ava recognized Valeria immediately, having seen her not long ago. There was a man beside her who also appeared to be from the ice kingdom, his long white hair reaching the middle of his back, icy blue eyes lighting up as he laughed at something she said.
“Eros,” Jareth said. “Valeria’s husband. He’s dead now.”
With them was Orion, relaxed and not as imposing as usual. As if he was sitting with people he considered his friends. Her eyes landed on the fourth member of the party and her breath caught. Though she’d never seen him before, she’d seen portraits.
Her father.
King Vardan looked almost exactly like Thorne, though his face was not nearly as kind. He had the same scarlet red hair, brushing his shoulders, the waves moving as he spoke.
