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The portal’s magic moved through my body like air moved through my lungs. It became an extension of myself, and I welcomed its heady power. As we spun through time and space, I gripped the Reids’ hands like they were a lifeline and willed them to stay with me.
Wind whipped my body and threatened to loosen my grip on them, but I held tightly and focused on my destination.
Walker’s house, Walker’s house, Walker’s house…
I ignored the urge to turn back to my home. My mother wanted me to forge ahead. I would not disappoint her.
Even if it broke my heart.
Finally, my feet crunched against gravel, and sunlight burned my eyes. As soon as we landed, I whispered the second spell mom ever taught me.
“An escape route is only useful if you can’t be followed.”
With one whispered spell, the portal and the last remnant of her magic was destroyed forever. Even if the golems had already crossed into it, they’d be lost in the gaps between time and space forever. If they had brains of their own or any real emotions, I would’ve almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
Cadence and Walker gasped beside me, but neither of them threw up. I considered it a victory.
“That.” Walker rested his hands on his knees and fought to catch his breath. “Was. Insane.”
His skin was sickly green, and I wondered if I’d celebrated too soon.
Cadence took in her familiar surroundings and frowned.
“Why here?” she asked.
As he too realized where we stood, Walker’s shoulders stiffened.
I swallowed. “Answers.”
*
Walker
My driveway stretched longer than I’d ever noticed. Freya quickly explained the contents of her mother’s letter, and one truth stuck out to me. We would have to consult my father for answers about my history.
I hadn’t relied on him in years. It felt wrong to turn to him in such a dire situation, but I had no choice. Clearly, Josephine would not stop her hunt for us.
“Can I put this in your bag?” I asked Freya and held up the web.
Its power thrummed in my hand and sent reverberations down my arm. It was softer than I’d expected, but slightly sticky. Its clinginess made me claustrophobic. Freya held open her duffel, and I dropped it inside.
My house loomed in front of us. It seemed especially mundane and dingy after seeing Freya’s cottage. At least the chipped white paint and expansive porch was a familiar sight after so many days away from anything I’d ever known.
I glanced at Freya and noticed how shiny her eyes were under the bright sun. I wanted to curse myself for being so selfish. Just last week, Freya lost her mother and now the closest thing she had to family had betrayed her.
I knew that reality all too well.
I could still remember the days and weeks following Mom’s death. I’d been so sure that Dad would get out of his depression eventually. I just knew he’d wake up one day and make us breakfast like he used to, and I wouldn’t be alone to care for my sister. He’d choose us—his family—over a drink.
That day had never come.
As we marched toward my house, I brushed my hand against Freya’s. It was the only small show of comfort she’d allow, and the only one I was brave enough to offer. Her gaze met mine, and she offered me the tiniest of smiles. My chest ached at the sight.
I wanted to ask Freya if she was okay, but I already knew the answer. I wanted to do something to help her, but nothing would—nothing except for the truth. If the only thing I could do to help her was pry answers out of my sorry excuse for a father, I would do it.
We finally reached the front steps.
