Page 8 of Tell Them That I’m Coming

Rafe is gone. I knew that, but I don’t think I really understood what Katrin told me until I’m standing alone, prepared to follow my friend into a realm that obviously doesn’t want me. Rafe is gone, and there’s no one I can blame but myself (and, well, the fire demons, but other than that, it’s all my fault).

I should have stayed by his side when he was flirting with Katrin instead of leaving him behind to sulk in Sombra. I should have returned when I said I would instead of figuring that he’d appreciate more time with his demoness before he had to answer to Kennedy and Loki.

I should’ve warned him not to get involved with Noctavara after the last time the fire demons arrived in Brille Rouge and we were unable to sate our curiosity by following them to their world.

Noctavara.

Of course it has to be Noctavara.

We can’t let her go to Noctavara…

I hadn’t stayed long enough to hear the rest. I hadn’t needed to, and, whoa, am I regretting that now.

That’s something else that’s my fault. I should be used to it, though. Prophecies have ruled my life since before I could hold my head up on my own. Four months old and already chosen. Now it’s twenty-five years later, and I’m still treated like a wonder instead of a person. Even worse, right when I learn there’s a second prophecy that might lead to the end of my life, it looks like my trip to Noctavara might be happening sooner or later.

We can’t let her go to Noctavara…

Sorry, Mom. I… I have to.

“If this is fate,” I mutter, staring at the space in front of me that’s as good as any other, “it has a sick sense of timing.”

Binx chitters softly, a sound that vibrates through my bones, grounding me. He knows what I’m trying to do. He also knows it isn’t working.

Because it isn’t.

My gift is instinctive. I draw the shadows in, direct them with my palm, and imagine where I want to go. Deep down, I feel a catch as the shadows answer me immediately. They’re eager, and familiar. They’re alive. I shape them the way I always do, feeling for the thin place between worlds. I picture the seam opening, the dark folding back on itself, the path to Noctavara opening, and… yeah.

Nothing happens.

I try again.

Harder this time. My heart stutters, a warning echoing in my chest that feels uncomfortably like my mother’s voice telling me to stop. To go home. To only venture into Noctavara when I’m ready.

I’m not ready. To face my fate, or to find out what the doppelseers have in store for me. But Rafe is missing, and the only clue that I have is that soldiers from Noctavara stole him.

I have to get in there. I have to.

I flex my fingers. I grit my teeth. I gnash my baby fangs, stamping my boots on soft earth.

Still nothing.

I’m blocked.

The realization makes my guts twist into knots. “No,” I snap, angry and worried and afraid. “You don’t get to keep me out.”

My shadows recoil, restless yet obedient, waiting for me to try again. My panicked breath comes faster, panic clawing at the edges of my resolve.

Rafe is out there. Alone. Taken because he protected someone else. Taken because I wasn’t there to protect him.

And I’m stuck on the other side of the veil, unable to reach him.

Binx crawls higher, pressing his small forehead beneath my chin. That helps. Having my soul-pet with me always helps me calm down, and as he chirps gently, I shudder out a breath.

“I’m going,” I tell him. “If you’d rather I take you to Sombra first, I can. But there’s no one who can go after Rafe but me.”

I believe that wholeheartedly. Why? No clue. But as though something is telling me that this is it, this is the prophecy Mom mentioned beginning to unfold, I know I’m right. I have to figure out a way to go after Rafe, though I refuse to put Binx in any danger⁠—

He makes a sharp sound.