“I know. But it’s Lyssa . . . somehow she’s stolen my magic ever since I was pregnant with her. But I swear to the goddess, even if I don’t have a shred of elementia within me, I will save her, no matter what I have to do.”
“And I will help you,” Jonas said firmly, even though the thought that her magic was no longer reliable enough to aid them in battle against Kyan chilled him. “I promise I will.”
“Thank you.” Lucia held his gaze for a moment before she nodded and turned away from him. “Now keep walking. We’re almost there.”
Jonas did as she said, one foot in front of the other.
He forced himself to keep walking even though every step was a test of his courage. These mountains had always been a part of his life—a chilling sight in the far east, no matter where in Paelsia one went.
They entered the foothills, and any remaining, struggling vegetation they’d passed in the previous dusty miles disappeared completely. The skies were gray, as if a storm stirred, and in the distance, above the mountains, even darker clouds blocked out the sun.
As they moved deeper into the black mountains, Jonas realized it felt even colder than Limeros here. It was a frigid kind of cold; an iciness that sank into his bones and settled there. The kind of cold he knew couldn’t be chased away by a warm blanket and a campfire.
He rubbed his chest over the spiral Watcher’s mark. The cold seemed to push deeper into him precisely in that spot, like the tip of a blade searching for his heart.
“This place,” he began. “It feels like death.”
Lucia nodded. “I know. There’s an absence of magic here . . . an absence of life itself. From what little I understand, that’s what has bled into Paelsia over generations, causing your land to wither and die.”
Jonas looked around at their barren surroundings. He shuddered. “Like the rotten part of a peach that starts to spread through the whole basket.”
“Exactly. Luckily, in the midst of all this death, is . . . that.”
They’d breached a gray, rocky hill, and on the other side, where Lucia now gestured, lay a sight that made Jonas’s breath catch.
A thick shard of purple crystal as tall as three men jutted up from a small patch of greenery in the distance. Beyond that small circle of life and beauty lay only black, scorched ground.
“This is where I fought Kyan,” Lucia said grimly as she climbed the steep hill leading to the monolith. “He wasn’t in mortal form then. He looked like he did in the dream that you witnessed.”
A gigantic monster made of fire.
“You were so brave in that dream,” he said, remembering the cloaked girl who stood in front of the fire god and swore she would stop him.
“I can’t honestly say I was that brave in real life. But this”—she slid her hand over the amethyst ring she always wore—“protected me like it would have protected Eva when she wore it. And Kyan—he exploded. I thought surely it had killed him, but it only destroyed the body he’d been using as a vessel. I blacked out, and when I came to, I was in the Sanctuary.”
Jonas couldn’t fathom how frightening that must have been, to be faced with a true monster with no one to turn to, no one to help. He had misjudged this girl for far too long. She’d been through so much, it was a miracle she’d made it out alive and sane.
He looked up at the monolith as they drew closer to it. “So this is a gateway to another world, like the stone wheels.”
“Yes,” she said. “This is where that magic originated from—the ability to walk between worlds. I just hope, now that we’re finally here, that it works with my magic being so unreliable.”
“I have faith in you,” Jonas said. “And your magic.”
Lucia turned to him with red-rimmed eyes, as if expecting him to follow up that statement with something harsher, something more judgmental.
Instead, he gave her a small smile. He’d meant what he’d said.
Despite any dark intent Timotheus ascribed to Lucia, Jonas’s faith in her had only grown since the immortal had given him the golden dagger.
Jonas thought back to the vision Timotheus had told him about: Lucia with the dagger in her heart and Jonas standing over her.
No, Jonas thought. It’s impossible.
Either he’d been wrong or he’d been lying. Timotheus said himself that he glimpsed many possible futures. That had been only one of them.
Jonas needed answers from the immortal. And he would demand to be told the truth about everything.
Lucia had scrambled farther ahead, and Jonas took several long strides to catch up with her.
“All right,” she said, turning to face him. “Now we will learn whether this journey has just been an incredible waste of time.”
The closer he stood to the monolith, the better Jonas began to feel. The chill had completely dissipated, and a tingling warmth flowed through his body.
“Do you feel that?” he asked, meeting Lucia’s gaze.
“Yes,” she replied.
“Look,” he said, pointing to her hand. “Your ring . . . it’s glowing.”
Lucia raised her hand, her eyes wide as she nodded. “I’m going to hope that’s a good sign.”
Then the monolith began to glow as well, emitting a violet haze all around them.
“I think it recognizes me,” she whispered.
Jonas followed Lucia’s lead and placed his palm against the cool crystal. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t explode.”
Lucia laughed nervously. “Please, don’t even think that.”
The brightness of the monolith quickly became so intense that Jonas had to squeeze his eyes shut to protect them from the light.
When he opened them only moments later, they were not in the same place as before. Not at all.
He turned in a circle to take in the new surroundings. They were now in a grassy field—one that reminded him of the backdrop of his last dream with Timotheus.
“Did it work?” he asked, then raised a brow at the sorceress standing next to him. “Or are we dead?”
“You sound so calm, considering we just traveled to another world,” she said. Lucia looked him up and down, studying him from every angle. “I wasn’t sure if you would be able to come here with me. The magic you have inside you must be stronger than I thought. I’m sure what happened . . . it wouldn’t have worked for just anyone.”
Jonas would have replied, but he was too busy staring at the shining city in the distance.
“It did work,” he said, stunned. “This is the Sanctuary.”
“It is.”
“I’m going to need a moment,” he said. Jonas bent down, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His mind was racing—one moment they’d been in the Forbidden Mountains in front of a big shiny rock.
Now they were . . . here. In the Sanctuary.
He always said he believed only in what he could see with his own eyes. And he could see this. All of it in one sweeping glance.
This was real.
“No time to rest.” Lucia began walking away from him, in the direction of the city. “We need to find Timotheus.”
At first glance, everything seemed normal enough—blue sky, green grass, colorful flowers—and in the distance, a city made of tall golden buildings loomed.