Page 116 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin

Cold dread pooled in her stomach as she realized she was trapped. She had no choice unless she let Rabin kill her. And if she died, he might be locked in this form forever.

Abishek turned to Kishore, and the mystic flung his arms, seizing Rabin again. He screeched and thrashed, trying to break from Kishore’s hold.

Then Kishore tossed Rabin towards the mist at the end of the swinging bridge.

Zarya screamed as Rabin disappeared in a bright flash.

“Rabin!” The sound echoed off every surface as his name repeated into infinity.

“Your turn, my dear,” Abishek said.

She looked at the king and swallowed the thick knot in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, and the icy sting of the wind numbed her skin where tears tracked down her cheeks.

She stared at the end of the bridge. She had no choice. She had to find him. She would find some way to bring them out and keep Abishek from getting what he sought.

She took a step. It felt like the hardest one of her life.

Then another as she drew towards the edge.

Abishek and Kishore parted to allow her through.

Ekaja stood at the entrance to the bridge, watching her.

Zarya looked at her. “I hope you understand what you’ve done,” she whispered.

“I’ll live with it every day of my life,” she answered softly.

Then Zarya nodded, placing one foot on the first plank to test her weight. When it held, she took another step and then another. The bridge swung in the gusting wind, and she whimpered as she clung to the rope.

She willed herself not to look down.

Another step and then another. All she could do was move forward and hope for an escape.

She didn’t look back.

She couldn’t bear looking at the man who’d tricked and fooled her.

Even when she’d been warned.

She couldn’t bear to look at the sum of her mistakes.

She inhaled a deep breath and peered down at the endless valley disappearing into the mists.

Looking back up, she stared at the nothingness before her.

Another step, and then… the mist swallowed her up.

THIRTY-SIX

Zarya braced herself, expecting a plummet or something equally harrowing, but a moment later, the mist cleared, leaving her standing alone in the center of the lost city of Taaranas.

It looked just like the tapestries she’d studied in Abishek’s castle, except that everything had been leached of color and now stood pale and lifeless, almost like it had been carved from chalk.

Whisps of dark smoke curled around the corners, drifting like spirits.

Taaranas.

A ghost city. A dead city.