Page 251 of May: Bloom & Bane

He lowers his muzzle until his brow nearly touches the shadowed floor of the cage. It’s the only answer he’s able to give. My throat tightens.

“I don’t know who made you do this,” I say quietly. “But not once… not once did you try to hurt us.” I wrap my skelva around one of the shadow bars, the closest thing to a hand on the shoulder I can offer to a creature I’ve spent countless hours injuring.

“Rest now,” I swallow. “You’ve earned it.” My gaze drifts toward the endless trees waiting beyond the clearing. “And when I find my mate…” I look back at him. “ I’ll come back for you.”

The beast closes his eyes a single time, slowly. Like a nod.

With the giant contained, the path-bending magic vanishes completely. The air grows crisp and clear, and for the first time all morning, the scent of my ash’kaela floods my chest.

We have a straight shot, Ash! Sage’s voice is filled with hope. Move!

I push my body into a dead sprint, tearing through the newly opened paths. The trees almost seem to lean out of our way. Andrik’s forest isn’t fighting us anymore. It’s letting us through.

Ashán, stop! Sage screams.

I skid to a halt at the edge of a massive drop-off.

“Sage…” I whisper, looking down. “This wasn’t here before.”

No, it wasn’t, Sage murmurs as he scans the horizon.

A leviathan-sized rift has been cut clean through the mountainside, as though some impossible blade split the earth in two. It spans nearly half a mile across, and below lies a bed of frozen stalagmites waiting to swallow anything that falls. Hovering over the drop are shifting chunks of stone, floating midair. Thick vines, pulsing with glowing runes, swing lazily.

Nothing about this is natural.

It looks like a gauntlet, Sage whispers. They were never going to stop with the beast… they had another plan all along. Once he failed, the trial began.

I look across the gap to the far side of the mountain, where the faint scent of my mate is still calling to me. The sun is already dipping.

We can’t go around, Sage says quietly. I’ve looked. It runs the length of the ridge in both directions, farther than we can see.

“Wings.” The word barely leaves my mouth, and the grief that follows is immeasurable. “The only thing standing between her and me… is the one thing I freely gave away.”

Don’t mourn them now, Sage murmurs. That’s why this is here. Not because we need wings, but because it wants us to believe we do. We don’t have them anymore, Ash. But we do have each other—that’s what crosses this—not what we lost. What we have left.

“Is this a test?” I bellow into the forest, flexing my skelva. “You want to see how far I’ll go for her?” I take a step back from the edge. “Let me show you my answer.”

I sprint three heavy paces forward and throw my body off the edge of the cliff. For one weightless second, there is nothing beneath me but a half-mile drop into a bed of frozen spikes. Wind roars in my ears, but my eyes stay locked on the nearest slab of stone. It twists in the air as I descend, the slick, angled face turning toward me.

Right side! Put your weight into the tilt! Sage commands.

I crash onto the stone, and it lurches beneath me, tilting hard as the runes flare to life. My skelva shriek across the icy surface, momentum threatening to pitch me forward. I slam my weight down, forcing the unstable slab to level out for one precious second.

Don’t stop! Sage barks. The stone is dropping—jump!

The rock is already sinking into the abyss, the runes sputtering out. I coil my thighs, using the last bit of the stone’s resistance, and launch myself toward the next floating island.

I land hard, and the stone turns beneath me.

Ash, it’s rotating! Sage shouts.

The entire slab is rolling like a log in a river, turning its frozen underside up to crush me against the next platform. My feet lose traction on the smooth surface, and I slide toward the lip.

The vines! Sage screeches.

Two heavy vines sweep past the rotating stone. I grab on with both hands, hauling my upper body off the rock. My body swings over the chasm in a wicked arc, the vine creaking beneath my weight. The runes along the vine flare crimson under my palms, stinging with a numbing burn.

“I’m. Not. Letting. Go.” I growl through gritted teeth.