“And getting home.”
“Yes,” he said softly. “And getting home.”
She knew the way now. The bottom floor of the castle hadn’t changed much between her time and Valchior’s, other than general upkeep and repairs, and she’d attended enough blessings and ceremonies and court hearings for her feet to take her without conscious thought to the hall.
Still, she wasn’t prepared for what she saw when she passed through the last upside-down archway.
Tree roots. A huge mass of them, just like in her dream. She’d seen them from the ship, the way they spilled out of the castle’s sky-facing foundation like the tentacles of some massive creature. But seeing them up close, the sheer size of them, was enough to make her mouth fall open.
Neve didn’t realize she’d taken a step backward until Solmir made a soft sound of pain. She looked down—she’d stepped on his foot. “Sorry.”
“I’ll live,” he muttered, moving away from her.
The roots moved. They swirled over each other in a slow, sinuous dance, almost serpentine, pale bark and dark veins in a continuous spiral that made her dizzy if she watched it too long. The roots pushed up through the dais above, the one that would be on the floor in the true world. The place where Red’s sacrifice had been cemented. The place where her and Kiri’s and Arick’s—Solmir’s—true plans had been put into motion.
“Will it take me to the palace?” she asked quietly, transfixed by the twisting roots. “When I go through?”
Solmir shook his head. If Neve watched the roots with awe, he watched them with barely checked wariness. “The geography of the true world and the Shadowlands isn’t exact. Places that had high concentrations of magic were duplicated here, but not in the same place as their counterparts. I have no idea where it will take you.” He made a rueful noise. “I would assume anywhere is an improvement.”
Neve didn’t answer. After another moment of staring at the shifting roots, she turned to Solmir. His blue eyes were narrowed, watching her every move like he expected each one to be the start of a fight. Arms crossed, tight enough to make the tendons in his muscles stand out, hair falling from where he’d tied it back to feather around his face. She couldn’t read his expression.
“What do I do?” Neve asked.
But even as the words left her mouth, the Tree was what answered.
This wasn’t a groan, not like when the shadowed storm that guarded the way wrenched itself apart. This was a softer sound, a sigh, a shift in the air.
Neve turned around.
The roots twisted down, extending toward the stone where Neve stood, slow and graceful. As they did, they parted, revealing darkness beyond.
Darkness, and the pale glow of gray fog.
She looked back at Solmir, filled with a host of feelings that were too sharp-edged to grasp fully. “Are the Kings on their way?”
“Not until you step inside,” he answered. “That’s the true opening. That’s when its power awakens and calls them forward.”
She turned to face the massive roots, the path between them. “And when they do,” she said, “you’ll follow them.”
“Yes.”
“And how will you kill them?”
His eyes were cold, his expression impassive. But his hands curled into fists by his sides, like he was trying to hold on to something that was swiftly slipping away. “Don’t worry about it, Neve,” he said finally. “It will be easier than you think.”
Another nod, this one short and decisive. But one more quiet question forced itself up her throat. “And you think Red loves me enough, even now?” She swallowed past sudden roughness. “You think she’ll reach down into the dark for me?”
She already has.
The voice. The one from the dream. It seeped out from between the roots, barely a shade above silence. When she glanced back at Solmir, he didn’t seem to have heard it at all, as if the words were only for her.
She’s reached and found her key, the voice continued as Neve turned back to the Tree. Now it comes down to you and your choices, Neverah. Shadow Queen.
“Of course I think so.” Solmir, answering her question a breath after the disembodied voice did. She whirled around; he stood right behind her, closer than she’d anticipated. Close enough for her to feel the brush of his hair against her cheek and see the determination in his eyes, like a decision recently made.
“You’re worth reaching into the dark for.” Then he grabbed her chin and kissed her.
It was real, even more real than the one outside the shadow. Real, and pouring dark magic down her throat, every bit of it he still held, draining all of it out of himself and into her. Real, and she should want to pull back, but she didn’t.
Before she could process any of it, Solmir broke their kiss and pushed her forward, into the mist-seething darkness between the roots.
Instinctively, Neve closed her eyes. Her breath came shallow, her heart pumping. It felt, almost, like her heart’s rhythm echoed elsewhere, something else responding to the beat of her pulse.
And when she opened her eyes, she saw the Tree.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Red
Sleeping on a ship should be easy, Red thought. The slow creak of ropes, the gentle rocking—by rights, she should fall effortlessly into rest. Eammon certainly had. He lay next to her, large and warm and snoring, on a bunk that was far too small for the two of them, his seasickness banished by sleep.
But for Red, it wouldn’t come.
After dinner—jerky and some kind of bread, yes, but well spiced, and far more appetizing than anticipated—the sailors had gone to smoke on the deck, and Kayu had taught them all a Niohni board game that involved dropping smooth stones into a simple grid and seeing who could collect the most in multiples of four. Red wasn’t quick enough with numbers to be much good, but Raffe, Eammon, and Lyra all won nearly as many rounds as Kayu did. Raffe had pretended to be annoyed, but the smile he flashed at Kayu when she poked him hard in the shoulder was genuine, and the two of them had stared at each other for a moment after as if the rest of them didn’t exist.
But when Raffe saw Red looking, the smile had dropped. He’d gone to the other side of the table and didn’t speak to Kayu again. After a few more rounds, everyone but him had gone to bed. Raffe’s excuse was he wasn’t tired yet, though the shadows beneath his eyes showed it for a lie.
Now, in bed next to Eammon, Red stared up at the dark beams above her and sighed. Gently, she extracted herself from Eammon’s arms and crept to the ladder leading to the deck.
When she emerged under the dark sky, it seemed she was alone. One of the sailors would be up at the wheel, she knew, making sure they stayed on course toward the Rylt, but they paid her no attention.