A second chance at their story.
Emmery's eyes sprang open to find herself in the garden once more, no longer seeing through Dez’s memories. Heart in her throat, she scrambled for his letter and read his last words.
Emmery stared into the garden. Everything he had shown her in those memories sourced new pain but also contained answers she’d searched her whole life for. If only she could decode them.
Her unblemished face in his memories, his mysterious bargain terms to bring her back, his deal with Zyphira for the crystal, and Thellonius’s plan—
She didn’t know what any of it meant, not for certain. Dez’s answers had only spurred more questions. And now he wasn’t here to ask.
One sure thing, however, burned inside her: Dez had bartered his magic, his freedom, and been mutilated by those thorns for a century. Forher. After all he’d given and endured, this wouldn’t be how things ended.
As she clutched the letter to her chest, and a raging inferno sparked within her, a plan formed in her mind.
Fuck the gods.
Fuck the fates.
Fuck all of this.
She would get him back. Even if she had to rewrite the Ballad of Beginnings.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
EMMERY
Emmery had kissed Dez’s forehead one last time, draped her cloak over him, and left Aera curled up with Brennen. The note she’d written him sat at his bedside and waited for him. Then she’d taken off for the Whispering Spring.
Overhead, dawn broke the sky in a blood-orange haze like it had when Dez was taken. It seemed fitting: that was how it ended and this is how it would begin.
As the pulse of magic from the spring beat in her veins, she dismissed Juno and navigated the tangle of thorns and golden flowers blanketing the ground. When the spring came into view,she stalked to the edge and glared into its black abyss, her heart in her throat.
She could practically see Dez pinching his nose and hear him saying,Really, angel? I leave you for a single moment and you found yourself in this rampant ocean of trouble? And without me?But this is how it had to be.
Her flame lit her up like a star as she torched the ice. The second she dove, the ice closed over her head and sealed her in. Panic seized her limbs as the spring whirled like a tidepool. Though she clawed for the surface, it sucked her in. For a gravityless second, she fell.
Pain clanged through her body as she struck obsidian ice. Black water soaked her hair and clothes. It smelled like Dez’s magic, but sharper. Sinister.
She glanced around the dark cavern. Thick and unforgiving, black ice coated the walls and radiated power like she’d never felt before. She sparked her flame to her fingertip. The ice reflected her face back in a series of mirrors that stretched on for eternity. Her pulse throbbed in her throat.
Squinting, she peered into the dark and found a wall of ice with a shadowed figure enclosed within. She traced her finger along the symbol carved into it. Acavae. This was what she’d come for.
She’d heard the legends and stories, entered his domain, stolen from his place of worship, and she stood there because of Dez’s memory and Reize’s claim that he resided in that very spot.
With her hand pressed to the ice, she whispered his name with both terror and desperation.
“Say it again, love,” the silken voice answered. He spoke softly, but a bit groggy, like he’d just woken and—
Gods, he sounded like Dez. His accent was thicker, tone colder, and the way he saidloveshook something loose inside her.
“I’ve come to make a bargain,” she replied, her voice weak.
“I think you will find my offer more than fair.” For a tense moment, he paused. “Tell me what it is you desire.”
Emmery gritted her teeth as tears threatened to spill. “I want—IneedDestonne back. I want his life, his shadow, his soul, his memories, his magic. I want all of it returned to him. I want him healthy and alive and free.”
Only a distant dripping disturbed the heavy silence. Could she truly have Dez again? Hold him, kiss him, have him without the thorns? So she could give him all the love that still lived in her chest? All the love he deserved but she never had the chance to give. Her palms sweat as she awaited his answer, her heart pounding against her ribs.
“The spring has agreed,” he drawled, “but two favours of equal value are required.”