We pass a few smaller homes along the way. Enclosed gardens. Stables. Everything Bas told us to expect.
People stop working in fields and look up. They stand at their front doors and watch us ride past. I get the same vacuous feeling from them, like they can’t feel anything in the extreme zones of life, like love and hate. Hope and disappointment.
We reach the house and move as planned. Fast. No hesitation. Jode guards the front. Marcus sweeps through the first floor as Bas and I shoot up the stairs.
Bas rushes into Samrael’s room to hunt for the orb. I bust through the other doors in search of Daryn.
As soon as I step into the last room on the right, I know it’s hers.
Her journal sits on the bed.
I grab it and stuff it into my belt at my back.
I find Bas in the hallway. “I found this,” he says, and tosses my sword at me. I catch it by the grip. “But no orb. It wasn’t where I thought it might be.”
“Neither was Daryn,” I say.
“Time’s up,” Marcus calls from downstairs.
Bas and I rush back downstairs and head outside, joining him and Jode.
Harrows pour through the open gate in swarms. I don’t know who opened it for them—maybe the guard was coerced? It doesn’t matter now; there’s no undoing it.
The people who gawked at us minutes ago dash for safety, shutting themselves behind doors. Their panic is bizarrely quiet—no yelling for friends or family to take shelter.
The Harrows don’t miss any opportunities as they come after us. They’re a rabid cluster of fangs and claws, and they don’t hesitate to attack anyone in their way.
But the mass of Harrows flows with focus, and an obvious goal, thundering closer.
They’re not here to wreak destruction at random.
They’re coming for us.
CHAPTER 43
DARYN
I’m watching Shadow—the Shadow I’ve created out of water—when fear touches me like a breath, lifting the hair along my scalp.
My focus breaks. Shadow dissolves back into the pool with a splash.
I know Rael is behind me, but I can’t face him. And I hate the smoky scent I smell hanging in the air.
I think of what Gideon told me about conjuring, about what Rael told him was the cost, and realize I’ve just created Harrows. I’ve created violent, mindless creatures because I needed a little bit of comfort.
I’m disappointed with myself. Disgusted.
“I wondered what you would create first,” Samrael says. “Intentionally, that is. I thought it would be your mother.”
I lick my dry lips. “When I see her, I want it to be real.”
“I understand.”
I whirl around, facing him. “How could you? Have you ever told the truth? Ever? Even once?”
“Yes,” he says. “Today, I told you the truth. Yesterday, I did as well. Tomorrow, I hope to continue to. And the following day. You’ve changed me, Daryn.”
“I don’t believe you!”
He winces and looks away, staring off across the water. “I’m very sorry to hear that. I have to admit,” he says, “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“I wanted to leave. I would have if I’d found Gideon.” I reach into my pocket to touch the orb. “What did you do to him, Rael?”
“I held him captive. It was before, Daryn. Before you gave me hope. I had nothing to do with his disappearance last night. I wanted to explain all of this to you.” He reaches for my arm. “Listen, I—”
“I don’t want to listen to you anymore! I don’t trust you!”
“Did you? Before you learned about Gideon? Before you realized I was deceiving you?”
“Yes! Yes, I did! But I don’t anymore. You ruined it. You lied to me. You played me for a fool, and you—”
“You’re not a fool. You’re—”
“But you treated me like one. You disrespected me. Can you understand that? You hurt me.”
Devastation breaks over his face. His eyes gloss with tears. “Then why are you still here?”
“Because I don’t want to believe you’re evil. And I don’t want to judge you. And I don’t want to turn my back on you and wonder for the rest of my life if I was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
“You, Rael. I don’t want to take away your future. I don’t want to take away your hope. You said it yourself. Part of being a Seeker is hope. Giving it. Protecting it. If I leave you here…”
“I would lose it,” he says, finishing for me.
As I stare into his tearful green eyes, I wish with everything in me that I could give up on him.
A sound drifts down from the hill and bleeds into the silence. My body recognizes it; my heart leaps and my muscles tense.
It’s the howling of the Harrows.
I break into a run. Rael stays right beside me.
As we reach the top of the hill, I see the slashes of light from Jode’s bow first. Then the guys, mounted, fighting against a torrent of Harrows in front of the main house.
I stop, gasping for breath, my legs twitching. The guys shouldn’t be here. They couldn’t have gotten into the Rift without the orb and my help.
This is a haunting. It’s the only possible explanation.
But as soon as Gideon looks over and locks eyes with me, I know it’s real.
It’s him. It’s all of them.
I sprint toward them, drawing notice from several of the monstrous ragged creatures. Three gallop together, pursuing me on my right. Samrael stays behind, no longer with me.
Ahead, Gideon is driving hard in my direction, fighting Harrows as he comes, his sword a line of light. Riot’s coat blazes, snaking up Gideon’s legs.
Gideon won’t reach me—not in time. He’s too far, a hundred yards. The three Harrows are much, much closer.
In an instant, I imagine how I would fix this by reaching for the strength inside me. Raising roots from the earth and lashing them at the Harrows like whips to snare them to the ground.
I could stop the Harrows by conjuring. And I could reach Gideon and the guys.
And I have the orb.
We could leave the Rift. Leave this place behind forever.
I could do it so easily.
I could run, and never have to think about Samrael again.
Except I know I’d think about him all the time. I’d go back to living with regret.
I can’t do that again.
My legs slow, some ancient part of me knowing the correct path forward before it even enters my consciousness.
I turn and see Rael where I left him. Standing at the edge of the tree line, watching me.
He sees me. He must sense that something has changed, because he begins walking toward me.
“Daryn, no!” Gideon yells behind me. “Don’t do it, Daryn! This is what he wants.”
Is it?
I don’t know. I’m beyond considering the hatred between Gideon and Rael. The friendship between Bas and Rael. I’m beyond grudges, revenge, and lies. Nothing about this has felt right, and I know it’s because I’ve been going about this the wrong way. I’ve been trying to evaluate and decide something I can’t know, or see, or even begin to understand.
Who am I to judge Samrael?
Who am I to determine whether he’s worthy of forgiveness?
This has to be simpler than that.
It has to be.