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The sacrifice.
Man, I was really hoping we’d be able to skip this one.
Guess not.
Ever since Rys reminded me that breaking out of our cell is child’s play compared to actually getting out of Siúcra, I’ve been obsessing over what exactly he meant by “sacrifice”. Now, face to face with the heart of the magic that runs the Faerie prison, I get it. I really do.
For a sacrifice to count, it actually has to be a sacrifice.
I have to give up something that counts. Something that means everything to me.
And there’s only one thing I can think of that fits the criteria. No matter how I tried to come up with something else, it all seems to pale in comparison. Rys was clear: if Siúcra says no, I’ll never get out.
I have to get out.
I pull off my promise ring. It isn’t easy—my fingers tend to swell when I’m overheated, over-excited, or angry—but I manage to twist it until the slender, silver band is nestled in my palm. I squeeze it once, then let it fall from my hand.
“My home,” I whisper. “If you let me go, I’ll give up my chance of going home to my old life. To Jim. It’s all I want and I’ll give it to you so that I can go free.”
I hold my breath.
It is done. You may pass through my gates.
I can sense more than feel the weird barrier disappear. I don’t hang around or give the disembodied voice the chance to change its mind. Instead, I hurry up and haul my ass out of there before I let the repercussions of my decision slam into me.
I’m never going home again. I might not be in prison, but I’ll be stuck in Faerie forever. Like Siúcra said, it’s done. I gave up everything I ever had before I stupidly jumped into a fairy circle.
No home.
No parents.
No friends.
No Jim.
But, if Siúcra accepts Rys’s sacrifice, at least I’ll still have him.
16
As I push past the last of the barrier, the first thing I notice is the warm breeze on my skin. The air is muggy, plus it carries the scent of damp earth on it.
It’s nothing like it was inside of Siúcra.
I take in a deep breath, almost choking on how thick the air is. The warm breeze is pushing around the oppressive humidity. I can already feel my hair puffing up in response to it.
I’m outside. My eyes are closed—they have been since I walked into the blinding portal—but I don’t need to see my surroundings to know that I did it. By giving up my ring and my chance of seeing Jim again, I made it out of the Faerie prison.
After blinking a couple of times, I get my sight back. All I see are trees, trees, and more trees. They’re the normal ones I remember, not the crystalline beauties with the tempting pink fruit, and I’d almost hope that maybe the magic protecting the prison took pity on me and sent me home if it wasn’t for the pixie that comes flying right at me as I look around.
The little blonde devil has shimmering, translucent wings and a body that looks like its clothed in spiderwebs.
“Hello, hello,” she calls, the voice so high-pitched that I almost wince.
I don’t think it’s Verity, the pixie who tricked me last time, and… yeah. I don’t care. As soon as the pixie flies within my reach, I slap at her. Not to actually hit her, but to keep her from getting too close.
I’m so not in the mood.
“Buzz off.”
