She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came. They stared at each other across the garden, his back to her and face angled in her direction. His heated words matched his stare and Emmery merely gaped.
“Don’t let your fears win. And don’teverlet your past make you feel inferior. Make it pay for feeding you doubt.”
Her cheeks heated as he disappeared inside the castle.
How dare he? She wasnotweak.
But Destonne had done one thing: successfully transformed her despair into anger. And anger she could deal with. Could come back from. And it lit something inside her.
She retrieved the empty bottle behind her then fidgeted with the label until it peeled away bit by bit. As Emmery caught her reflection in the glass, a realization sank in. Seeped into her skin like a heavy balm. She mulled over his words and picked at the paper until it fell to shreds at her feet.
When right and wrong fail, the truth does not falter.
But her truth had shifted, morphed, and now, though she despised it with every morsel of her raging heart, the truth was that she needed Destonne O’Daire.
CHAPTER EIGHT
VESPER
After his talk with Briar and the absolute shit storm of emotions that had ravaged through him once he learned Ellynne would be stolen, Vesper spent hours crafting a letter. It was pathetically desperate but, in his modest opinion, also well-written. He gave the message to Quill, told him it was urgent, then sent a prayer to the gods he knew was likely futile.
That night, Vesper laid his head on his pillow and as his world swam with alcohol, he readied himself to be ripped from Izzy again as he was most nights.
He didn’t know how he came to find this twisted dark pit of a place, all he knew was Izzy grew frailer, as if something feastedon her from the inside. She always waited in the same spot, swallowed by endless darkness, dressed in her filthy black gown.
Once he caught sight of her, Vesper sprinted, but he could never cross that distance between them fast enough or with enough permanency to stop that crack spreading in his chest.
When he reached Izzy, he shrank to the ground beside her and studied her withered frame. Her dull lavender eyes gazed back, the light within them dimmed, and it slowly shattered his composure—a single tap of a chisel to an ice sculpture until the fissures irreparably spread.
Her skin was chilled to the touch and without hesitation, he tore off his cloak and swaddled her with it, then rubbed her shoulders, willing warmth back into them. Between her protruding collarbones, hollowed cheeks, and face that was once a feminine version of his, she had become nearly unrecognizable. But she was unharmed, unlike Destonne’s description of her corpse.
“You’re fading away,” he murmured, his voice pained. Vesper took her frail fingers into his hand. She’d only grown thinner since he’d last seen her. “Everything is okay now. I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m here.” He studied the bottomless chasm of eternal night below him. “Whereverhereis.”
A frayed black curl caught in Izzy’s eyelashes as she pulled back. She shaped her words with her once elegant hands that were now bony with cracked nails and bulging blue veins.“There’s something else here. Things that live in the dark. Something with jaws that unhinge—gaping mouths lined with jagged teeth. I’ve never seen anything like it. Likethem.”Her grim face stared into the abyss like the darkness whispered to her.“They drink blood to speak to the gods and to see these terrible visions. To see …things. Things we aren’t supposed to see.”
Vesper shivered and the blood drained from his cheeks. Never before had he heard of such creatures. Jaws that unhinged? That was some creepy ass shit.
“What—what are they?” His grip tightened on her arm. “Have they harmed you?”
Fear swam in her eyes, but she didn’t answer like her tongue was tied.
“I’m getting you out of here. I know my plan with Emmery failed but—” He choked on his words. Usually he could fight the memory, like his body tucked it away somewhere to keep his mind safe but the images slammed into him so hard his eyes unfocussed. Like this place wanted to remind him of his demise. Wanted him to sink into the hopeless panic and torment again.
How the blood had bathed him.
How he gagged and his throat flapped open. Gaped like a gill.
How agony tore through his chest and neck and—
Emmery. Her tears dripped onto his cheek, and he didn’t want her to cry, but couldn’t stop it. Her magic threaded into his skin, muscles, bones, but … it wasn’t enough.
His breaths were stolen and life fled his body, replaced by numbness. There was ice and Death’s grip. He closed his eyes and—
He couldn’t open them again.
Then he couldn’t remember anything.
Vesper shuddered and shook his head to abolish the vision. He’d heard of white light yanking people into eternal rest, but he only felt the cold sweep of the end, then awoke in the shadowy darkness. Was this it? If it was, it was pretty fucking anti-climactic.