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“Quinn,” Moira says, not pulling any longer.
“Help me, we have to get to him,” I say.
“Quinn, look,” Moira says, and there is a note of resignation in her voice that makes my blood turn cold.
Dugald lets go and turns around first so I do too.
The explosions came to a stop because we’re standing on an island. A surging sea of twisting black surrounds us, lapping at the last vestiges of reality left in this realm. This is what the darkness wants. Nothingness, utter destruction. Even as I watch it’s tearing at the remains of the island and as it crumbles there is less and less for us to stand on.
“No,” I shake my head. “Not this close.”
A tingle runs over my shoulders, and I remember Mab’s gift.
“It will help you when things are darkest.”Her words return, and I can’t imagine that things can be any darker than this.
I grab the hem of the gossamer shawl. It makes my hand tingle which is, I hope, a good sign. I step forward, only a couple of steps away from the nothing beyond our crumbling refuge. Unsure what to do I weave the shawl through the air with a magician’s flourish.
Nothing happens.
“Come on, work,” I mutter, trying again, but nothing.
I look back at Moira and Dugald but they both shake their heads, having no idea how to make this work either. I take a step back to stay on solid land. I try again. And again. Nothing.
“Quinn,” Moira says, grabbing my arm and tugging me away from the edge.
“No, this must work. When things are darkest, she said. This must be it. It has to work. We can’t be this close and fail,” I say, weaving the shawl in every way I can imagine.
Dugald pounds on the door, then shifts to trying to pry it open with his sword. His pants and grunts of effort create a rhythm as I try everything possible to make the cloak do something. I will it to work, force my thoughts to be calm and try projecting that out to the world and then through the cloak. All the while the ground before us crumbles. The nothingness’s approach has slowed, almost as if it knows victory is assured and now it’s playing with us. Savoring the moment.
“Quinn, it’s okay,” Moira says. Something in her voice causes me to stop the erratic weaving and look at her fully. Her full lips smile, and she cups her hand on my face. “I’m so happy to have had this time with you.”
“What are you talking about? This will work,” I demand.
Moira shakes her head. Tears glisten in her eyes but I don’t understand. Her fingers tingle on my skin and the connection between us becomes visceral. Her love floods through our contact and makes my knees weak.
“I know you don’t remember,” Moira says. “Not everything but know this; I love you. I have always loved you and I always will.”
“Moira, stop it, we don’t have time—”
She moves her hand to my lips, placing a finger over them and shaking her head.
“I love you, Mom.”
She whirls away, her entire body glowing so bright I have to shield my eyes, and she leaps into the nothing.
ChapterSeventeen
“Moira!”Dugald and I scream her name at the same time.
Both of us reach for her but my fingers close on empty air as she drops off the edge and into the swirling dark.
For a moment nothing happens. My pulse pounds in my head and all I can do is stare. Disbelief creates numbness. I can’t wrap my head around this. She can’t be gone; she didn’t do this. How can I lose her? It burns when I breathe, and my chest hurts as if it’s being crushed. This can’t be.
I let my hand drop to my side, staring at the swirling black that swallowed her. Only now do I see that the ground is no longer crumbling and the swirling in the blackness has slowed to a crawl.
“Dugald—”
An explosion blasts us backwards. I slam against the tower door, knocking my breath out. Stars dance in my vision as I slide down and land on my butt with a thump.
