“Hollow filth,” the False King hissed.
Thellonius’s hand cracked across Vesper’s face and the strike sang through his skull. As if he were truly dying, his mother’s lullaby played inside his head in a dull off-key tune. Vesper tumbled into darkness, unsure when he’d surface, or if he ever would again.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
EMMERY
The path Emmery and Brennen followed led farther into the womb of the Sacred Lands than she and Vesper had tread months ago. As if unveiled by fire, the tree’s glossy blackened exterior had been replaced with a charred burn, and the land’s glow now dimly flickered. At her side, the wolf walked, her hand rested on his neck the way Dez’s usually did. Her fingers anxiously tangled in his fur as her chest shook and rattled the broken pieces inside her.
As if Aera had decided the two were now best friends, she wove in and out of Brennen’s legs. He gave her the occasional swat of his tail when she wandered off the path.
Brennen led her through a particularly dense thicket of burnt trees, and as they emerged on the other side, a vast expanse of blood spanned ahead, stretching to gods only knew where. Maybe it fed into the lake in the Hollow. Rather than the coppery tang she assumed would flood the cavern, the air smelled sweet. Like buttery brown sugar.
This had to be the Blood Mire. The story of how Kahlia had drowned herself sprang to Emmery’s mind as she stared out at the crimson pool.
At the shore stood Fionn, arms crossed, tapping his foot as he glanced at his pocket watch. Fionn was here, but—
Where was Dez? Brennen claimed he would be there. In his absence, her heart wrung itself dry.
Emmery scooped up Aera and sprinted, Brennen at her side. The soft earth shifted beneath her feet. When she neared the shore’s edge, Fionn peered up from his watch and gave her a cocky smirk so much like Briar’s she couldn’t help but return it.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said. He winked at Brennen. “About time you got here. I almost lost the bet.”
Fire flickered in her eyes as her gaze warred between them. “What bet?”
“Nothing.” Brennen narrowed his eyes at Fionn. “Clearly he’s inhaled too many fumes from the Blood Mire.”
It did have some sort of intoxicating effect. Her head felt light, off balance, as she set Aera down and raised her hands. “I don’t care, I need to know where Dez is.”
“In there.” Fionn nodded behind him.
Her stare widened on the body of blood, still and yet never clotting. “He’s—what do you mean ‘in there’?”
Fionn shrugged. “Part of his pactum and magic. He drank whatever was in that vial, murmured some nonsense about ten times, and sauntered in there like some lunatic.”
“And neither of you are concerned?” she snapped. She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped toward the shore. As she gazed out at it, her palm pricked with sweat. When she turned back to the imbeciles, they both grinned like fiends. “Whatare you two smiling about? And how long has he been in there?”
Brennen plunked his furry behind in the sand. “Don’t ruffle your delicate feathers, princess. We’ll get him out before he drowns.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Her attention turned on Fionn. “Tell me how long he’s been in there.”
Once more he flicked open his pocket watch and pursed his lips. “Give or take five minutes.”
“Five minutes?” Emmery’s stomach sank as they both shrugged. “Fuck you two, I’m—”
She didn’t get to finish her thought.
Because the Blood Mire rippled. Actuallyrippled.
Her heart rose in her throat as it shuddered. As if drawn from the inside, the blood shifted like a violent storm, a tidepool, a rising force sure to alter this existence.
Dez’s head broke the surface, and he gulped air as if this was his rebirth.
His soaked curls hung in his face and blood slathered him like a warrior wore armour. As the mountains dawned snow. As the ocean held the sky. It was him as much as he was it, the two melding into one being. And as he stalked forward with an unflinching gait, ruthless power and aura quaked the earth with each measured step.
He rose from the crimson pool like a—
Like agod.