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ChapterFourteen
I reach backtowards the portal, but Dugald grabs my arm and pushes it down even as the portal shuts.
“Cernunnos!” I yell.
“He is gone,” Dugald says, tightening his grip on my arm to keep me from jerking free. “This was the price.”
“No one told me it was going to kill him,” I yell.
My heart hammers as rising blood pressure makes my head throb.
“Everything costs something, Quinn,” Dugald says. “Don’t be naïve.”
“I’m not,” I say, fighting to break free.
“Quinn,” Moira says. “Calm down. Please.”
I look over my shoulder. Moira looks serious, but calm. What strikes most is that she isn’t watching Dugald and I but is looking around. The realm we’ve stepped into is empty. Gray soot covers the ground and above is a similarly gray, cloudless sky. We’re standing in the middle of a vast nothingness. I finally manage to jerk my arm free of Dugald and give him a harsh glare.
“You should have told me,” I say.
“Would it have made a difference?” he asks. “This is what we must do. You heard Queen Mab as well as I.”
“There must have been another way,” I argue, unwilling to let it go.
Cernunnos is dead, because of me. And not only him. So many have died because of me. Every man who died at Inverness and on the march to Loch Ness, all of them are my fault. All of them died because I lost my temper and I set the darkness free.
The weight of so many lives piles on my shoulders and is almost more than I can stand. I can’t catch my breath. The pressure on my chest is too great to allow a full inhale. I gasp air as my head spins.
Destroyer. I am the Destroyer and this is what it means.
I want to reject the whispers, but they’re true. I am the Destroyer and look at what’s happening around me. The entire world is about to be destroyed and it’s all my fault. My decisions, my actions, I created this mess.
The world shifts and I almost lose my balance as the ground jumps. It’s what I imagine an earthquake might feel like, but it’s only a single jerk, not an ongoing experience. The instant it happens though the emptiness is gone, replaced by blackened earth. This looks like an intense fire happened. The land is pockmarked with craters that look like hundreds of explosions happened.
This new visage stretches to the horizon and there, in the distance, is a tower. The tower rises like a single, bony finger pointing accusingly at the sky. On the top of the tower what must be a massive flame is burning. It’s a beacon and it’s calling me.
Quinn. Come, Quinn. Come to me.
As I stare at the flame I hear it, in my head, beckoning. No, not only in my head, it’s in my soul. A summoning to meet my destiny. This is it. I am in the realm of dreams and death and here I will face something. What, I don’t know, but whatever it is has Duncan and maybe my mom.
Not ready. I’m not. I can’t do this.
And it’s true. I’m not ready for this. All the mistakes I’ve made. All the lives that have been lost because of me. I should have stayed with the Druid. Should have listened to Mab and the Fair Queen, taken time to learn. Should quit rushing headlong into the next stupid decision, but I haven’t and now I’m here.
“Quinn, are you okay?” Moira asks.
“No,” I say, swallowing the fear and impending despair. “No, I’m not. But it doesn’t matter. There.” I point at the tower. “that’s where we’re going.”
They look and neither of them argue that it’s the direction to go and a hint of disappointment fills my heart. I was hoping they’d tell me I’m wrong, but obviously that’s not going to be the case.
“Let’s go,” Dugald says.
He doesn’t wait for Moira or me to agree before striding off. I exchange a look and shrug with her, then we follow.
We walk in silence for what feels like a long time. I don’t have any way to keep track of time nor is there anything in the sky to track it. There is only one foot in front of another and the dim hope that we’re moving in the right direction. Except the tower doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.
I think about saying something, but what? I look around and there are no other distinguishing landmarks to head towards. Which means this must be the direction to go, but the unchanging sameness of the land is depressing.
