Nevis shakes her head. “She’s too vain to consider that life flourishes in her place of destruction—especially under her nose. We’re protected down here and a few of us always maintain positions in the castle to keep an eye on things. It’s a job traditionally carried down from one generation to the next.”
I look around the open space. The air is warm, damp with humidity. For the first time in days, the chill in my bones disappears. Several small ponds of fresh water are fed by a stream coming from an outside source. Light shafts stretch from the high, rugged ceiling. It’s gray like the sky above, but it reflects off the water and the gardens filled with plump, unfamiliar vegetables. Homes tuck into the walls; some natural crevices, others dug into the surface. People mill about, in the middle of normal daily activities. Cooking. Tending the gardens. Caring for children.
“You didn’t answer my other question,” I say, watching a small group of children run past. They’re clean and look well-fed. “Why are you helping us?”
Nevis toys with the end of her braid, her hair as dark as my own. Her eyes are a deep blue and I notice this is the coloring of most of the people down here. Including much paler skin. “Legend tells us the tales of the Morrigan and how she came into existence. The stories of how her heart was betrayed. How she used her pain to wage war and wrath on Cu’s armies.” She leans closer. “There are other stories. Ones about the three sisters. That the Morrigan is only one part of the powerful Goddess that rules over this realm.”
“I’ve heard the myths.”
“My people have always believed in this version and have waited centuries for the reuniting of the three.”
Embrace, the Shaman had said.
“You believe the myths.”
“Yes, and you must know your role in all of this. I knew it the moment you crossed through the gate. Before, even. When the Queen brought the mythical Raven Guard here to torture and imprison, I knew you must be gaining strength in your own world. Enough for her to panic. I’m helping you because I know you may very well be the key.”
The key.
I think back to my story—the one that haunted me for years—consumed my daydreams as a child. The cat and the prince and the ravens watching me from above. The key that opened the gate from one world to the next.
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“You may be the only hope we have to save this realm.” She nods over to the structure that holds my men. “You and your Guardians.”
I know enough that there could be truth to her ideas—that I am part of something bigger, but there are things she may not know. “She’s doing a lot of damage back home, horrible things. I am here to stop that—to find what will stop the sickness back home.”
“A virus?” she asks. I nod. “Tell me about this sickness.”
I describe the symptoms. The way it sucks the life away from a person and the way it’s transmitted, starting with two of her own minions using me as a conduit. “Not only are my friends in danger, the whole world is. The Morrigan has made her move to cross realms.”
“So you didn’t come here to save us.”
I reach for Nevis’ hand. “I didn’t even know you existed. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you, too. I’m just not sure I have as much power as you think I do.”
Dylan and the others seem to think I’m the answer—this woman, too. But other than some mediocre fighting skills, a few magic tricks, and an unusual bond between me and four men, I’m not really sure what these powers are or how to use them.
Nevis doesn’t seem as apprehensive. She smiles, revealing a chipped tooth that doesn’t detract from her quiet beauty or the expression of hope filling her eyes. “Then let’s make you strong and take the rest from there.”
*
Bunny watches me closely as I walk away from Nevis and toward the small hut. I want desperately to ignore him, but now that we’re relatively safe, the emotions of the last few hours crash over me: Casteel and his assault; Dylan showing up to finish the fight; Bunny protecting me. I dare a glance and find him walking toward me. I push down my confused feelings.
“Are you going in?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He shoves his glasses up his nose with one finger. “I know now is not the time—”
“No. It’s not.”
“It’s not. I know, it’s just that I’m sor—”
“Bunny.” I cut him off. “If we get out of this alive and Dylan the others don’t kill you first, we can talk. That’s when I’ll decide what to do about everything that’s happened between us.” I swallow back the rage building in my chest. I am not over what Bunny has done. Not even close, but I have bigger problems and some major healing to apply to my Guardians, and right now isn’t the time.
“Take care of them,” he says, knowing what I’m about to do. “I’ll guard the door.”
I nod and leave him to begin the healing process with Guardians and prepare them for the next phase in the war.
*
A few members of the underground community are in the room when I enter. Their clothes are shabby but clean. The building itself seems to be a very small clinic. Vials and bottles line the shelves on the wall. Wooden boxes filled with bandages and other supplies are stacked neatly.
The whole place seems surreal, but I have little option other than to trust them and to trust Bunny.
Calling it a hut is generous—it’s basically a cave. How do these people survive down here? All three of my men are sleeping on a pallet of blankets and furs on the floor. Sam, looking weak and frail, is in the middle, flanked on both sides by Damien and Clinton. One healer remains, wiping down Sam’s feet with a towel. Glasses of half-consumed, clear liquid are on the ground.
“Call for us if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I look down at my men. They’ve been cleaned and their wounds tended to. I choke back a wave of emotion. “For everything.”
The door closes with a click.
I undress as I walk toward the bed, kicking off my boots, lifting my shirt over my head, and dropping my trousers to the floor. I’m bare underneath—the battle upstairs gave me little time to dress. I feel the appraising gaze of eyes on me and look up to find Damien watching my every move. Dropping to my knees, I crawl to him while the others sleep.
He reaches for me with a rough hand. I take it, kissing the raw skin on his knuckles. Lifting the blankets, I slip beneath and snuggle next to his too-skinny body and run my hands up and down the tattoos on his chest. Skin to skin, we connect.
He presses his lips to mine and breathes, “Gods, I missed you.”
Chapter
Damien
At first, I don’t think she’s real. I think it’s another dream. Another fantasy I used to stay sane during the weeks of imprisonment and torture. I only thought of her face. Her eyes. Her body. I dreamed of her bursting through the door and snapping Casteel’s neck. I knew she would come. I knew my Queen would not allow me to fester and die in his rotting cell.