Adrith yelled for Mina to hold on as the centaurs took off running toward the bridge. If they didn’t hurry, they wouldn’t make it across.
Mina’s heart pounded in her chest as more stones fell away. Adrith was the first to cross, followed by the other centaurs. Prase’s rear hooves just scraped the last stone before it dropped.
Mina turned and saw that Captain Plaith’s horse had misjudged the distance. A cry ripped from her throat as the horse’s hooves barely scraped the stone. Another rumble ripped through the plane, and more of the bridge fell away.
One second, the horse and captain were there.
The next they were gone over the ledge and lost to the deep chasm.
Chapter 34
Mina stared at the edge of the bridge they’d barely made it across, until Ferah cried out in warning, “Go, go, go!”
The stones underneath her feet were cracking, and Basal neighed in fright. They couldn’t afford to stop. Nix grabbed Ferah’s hand and pulled her onto the mount with him, and the centaurs ran as if their lives depended on it, which they did.
They raced to outrun the ever-growing chasm that threatened to swallow them all.
Then it stopped. The middle of the lake was gone. Just an empty hole ending a few hundred feet from the end of the bridge.
They hurried on.
When they arrived at the doors of the palace, they were greeted by multiple Fae, old and young alike—all terrified. Some yelled, trying to assert their dominance over the group of frightened Fae. Mina and the others slid down from the centaurs and tried to hear what was going on.
“Settle down, settle down,” a tall, broad shouldered gnome commanded. “We can solve this problem peacefully.”
“Where are the Fates?” an angry dwarf yelled.
“Why are they not saving us?” an elderly elf asked.
The gnome leader seemed to be losing his patience. “They can’t save our home anymore. A terrible accident has befallen them.”
“We’re doomed,” the same elf cried out.
Mina and the group came along the outskirts of the Fae. Ferah motioned for Mina to follow her, so Nix and Ever said they’d stay and see what they could learn. Mina followed Ferah along the side path and around the palace until they arrived at the hedge maze.
“This wouldn’t have happened if I had just stepped out of the way,” she berated herself.
With the plants dead, it was easy to cross through the broken and dying bushes or step over them, until they came to the tower. The tower glass had been repaired, and something compelled Mina to hurry. She didn’t need more prompting. She ran up the steps of the tower and came into the round observatory room.
“What now?” Mina asked as she stepped in and turned in a circle. A flood of memories rushed back to her as the former assassin joined her.
Ferah faced her. “I don’t know. I only know that I was supposed to bring you here. All of the Fates have been chosen in this room. It’s why the test ended here. Except…”
“Except what?” Mina asked, sensing her hesitation.
“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve let you down. I don’t know what else there is to do. I should leave you.” Ferah looked around the tower once more and started back down the stairs.
Mina walked over to the large windows and saw how fast the Fae world was dying. So much had happened up here. The memories were equally sweet and painful. How she longed for the prince to be standing here with her.
The ground began to rumble again, and the tower swayed.
Mina tried to make sense of all this. She still felt like she was missing something. Captain Plaith said the Fates were a conduit of magic for the land, and with their deaths, the magic was gone.
“Again, you get in my way!” Annalora shrieked from behind Mina. The tower leaned, shifting with the quakes. Annalora stood in the stairwell, bracing the wall for support as the round of tremors passed. “How are you here? You should be dead! I’ve sacrificed too much for you to still be here.”
“I guess I’m not so easy to kill.”
Annalora placed a strange instrument—the bone whistle!—to her lips and blew. Mina instantly recognized that sound. She’d heard it the day her mother died.
Suddenly, the Death Reaper stood before her.
But not the same one.
This one wore a long black leather jacket. His head was bowed, and his dark hair fell loosely around his face, disguising him, but when he lifted his pale, white eyes and met her gaze, she wanted to cry.
Teague.
He had taken the place of the Death Reaper. In his hand, he held a black dagger.
“It’s always come down to this,” Annalora said. “We’ve waited centuries for the gnomes to have a chance to rule. We’re the forgotten ones, the race that everyone overlooks. We’re strong in our own right. Our armies have proven it. And our poison is the most deadly in the world. It’s pure hate. It was perfect… until you came along. There could only be one of us in the end.”
Annalora’s laugh echoed through the tower. “I win.” She pointed her finger and spoke a command.