Page 152 of The Reaping Rose

Callum carries Perame out of the forest, with Esen right behind them. There isn’t time to waste as I slice open my palm, sending a river of blood to the ground at my feet. Perame’s fingers are cold as I take her hand next, resting the point of the blade on her skin.

“Just do it,” she urges when I pause.

I cut through, holding her hand over the spot where my blood drained to open the Arch. It takes longer to root than it did in Vaelier, but soon, a dark swirl climbs the posts, waking the Arch.

“It’s true, then.” Esen’s eyes widen. “The Arches still work.”

“Barely.” I sheathe my dagger. “Back home, things are worse than this. You should know that before coming with us. Our realms are dying, and we don’t know how much longer we have.”

“I’m with you.” Her green eyes meet mine, unwavering.

This close, I realize one of the dark veins on her cheek reaches the corner of her eye. It stains the white of her eye with a dot of black.

I reach out a bloodied palm, and Esen takes it, holding her breath as we step through the Arch and are overwhelmed with the scent of pine.

Lightning.

The familiar musk of the lush Vaelier forest floods my nose. Humidity makes the air heavy. But there’s an undercurrent of something else as we move from one realm to the next.

A hint of decay and mold from the Well.

The veil shifts as the Arch releases me, and I step out. But instead of sand at my feet, I’m on hard ground. Trees tower on all sides with snow dusting the branches.

No, not snow.

Ash.

These trees aren’t like the ones that line the beach in Andare. They’re not like Quietus. We’re somewhere else.

“Everquell.” Perame’s eyes widen as she sets her gaze over Callum’s shoulder. “The Arch took us to Everquell. This isn’t right.”

My stomach turns as I process what she’s saying. Everquell was already claimed by the Well. Fae abandoned their homes here because it’s uninhabitable. This isn’t where we’re meant to be.

With the fading Arch behind us, we stand frozen at the tree line, facing a stretch of barren ground ahead. The dirt is scorched, trees burned to an ashy crisp. At the center, far off in the distance, is a chasm. It’s so large there is no beginning or end. Black shadows stretch out of it like arms reaching for the sky.

Screeching fills my ears. The piercing sound is so sharp it’s barely muted when I cover them. Darkness surges toward us, and I take a step back, but there is no escape.

Callum throws his hand up like he’ll form a Gate, but something else splits open before he has the chance. A sharp line of aether rips through the night. The scent of moss and trees and life and home overwhelms me as Wilder steps through, and my heart nearly seizes.

“Wilder.” I throw myself at him, tears streaming down my cheeks.

His magic catches me faster than his arms.

“Welcome home, Starfire.” He tilts my chin up, golden eyes flaring as he offers me the most beautiful smile.

“Wait until we get there to say that.” Another tear falls free. “Perame’s in trouble. She needs help—” My plea is cut off in a sob as confusion flashes in Wilder’s eyes. But it’s Atlas who moves first, stepping out of the Gate immediately after Wilder.

His face blanches at the sight of his sister.

At her limp body hanging in Callum’s arms.

Chapter 51

Wilder

Atlas sits in a chair beside Perame’s bed, watching Seren pull the sheet to her chin. If it weren’t for the hum of her shallow breaths, I’d think we’d lost her. Perame’s pale cheeks are a sheet of white against her orange-red curls. Her body unmoving.

Seren brushes the back of her fingers over Perame’s cheek, but then, as if she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls back, clearing her throat when she spots me.