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I’m right.
“Come to me. Come, Zel—”
He never finishes his command.
Nine stiffens. I’m not so sure why—and his back is to me so I can’t see his face—but I sense a change in him as soon as Rys starts to say that weird Zella word again. Before Rys can utter the second syllable, Nine’s pale skin begins to glow.
He spares one glance at me, a quick peek to make sure I haven’t moved, then he zeroes in on the Light Fae.
If Rys’s shine is brilliant in this strange place, Nine’s vibrant silver glow makes him absolutely terrifying. The fierce expression on his face isn’t helping me, either. Holy shit. I’ve never been afraid of Nine before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything because I’m about to flip the fuck out.
I gasp for another breath, certain that I’m about to just pass out already. Only the fact that I’m in Faerie—I’m in the Fae Queen’s gardens—keeps me standing. I’m already super vulnerable. Fainting here?
Might as well just walk up to her castle and say hi while I’m at it.
While I struggle to hold it together, Nine lifts his hand again. After muttering something in that harsh, foreign language of his, he makes a gesture I don’t understand. I can’t really see it. Blackness is creeping up on the edge of my sight, though I wince and squint when he stretches his fingers. It’s like he’s turned a flashlight on. A bright silver beam shoots out at Rys, breaking up some of the fog that’s clouding my vision.
It pushes the Light Fae back a few feet. The grin slides from Rys’s face as he lifts one delicate hand to shield his gaze.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Nine.”
“Leave us,” he orders. “You don’t believe in the Shadow Prophecy. I’ve dedicated too many years to it. The Shadow belongs to the Dark Fae. Accept it.”
“Aislinn was a Light Fae,” Rys counters. “My claim is stronger.”
“Fate will win.”
“Or perhaps the queen will.”
No, I think as I allow myself to give in to the panic scrabbling against the last of my consciousness. It’s been there since I first saw the magenta sky mixed with gold, the crystalline trees, Jason the statue. I’m light-headed and weak, the anxiety crashing into me like a wave. I don’t fight it anymore.
At the moment, I decide that Riley will win.
I remember what Nine told me. When I’m conscious, I can’t accept that I can do that shade-walking shit. But what if I’m not conscious?
There’s no sun here—but there are shadows everywhere. Lurking behind the unnatural, fantastical trees, like the one that’s nearly hiding Jason, I see the shadows and, despite my cloudy, fuzzy head, I have to wonder.
It’s worth a shot.
I start to fall, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Every part of me locks up, my arms shrinking against my torso as I let myself go, aiming for the patch of hazy black that stretches across the ground.
I lock my jaw as I collapse. I refuse to give either of them permission to catch me before I hit the ground.
I only hope the weird grass is as soft as it looks.
13
When I come to again, the first thing I look for is my window with its six bars across it.
Nope. No window. No bars. All I see is the night sky above my head and it hits me: I’m not at Black Pine anymore.
I’m not even inside.
A handful of stars twinkle in the distance, a few bright spots in the blackness above me. It takes a second before I understand that I’m lying on my back on the cold ground. Grass cushions me. I can feel it scratching me through my hoodie.
With a grunt, I roll onto my side. I blink a few times, trying to get my sight back, then use the dim moonlight to peer at the grass surrounding me.
It’s pointy. Kinda brittle and dry, flat where my body pressed it into the dirt.
