Page 96
“You know how those Nachthellians are about their moonlight.” Fern was hedging, faffing about with Lunara’s robe. “She just needs a sip of the cosmos and she’ll be right as rain, eh?”
Magnus nodded. “Aye. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Racing through the twists and tunnels, the journey back took half the time.
Half an eternity.
Pet carried them whenever he was able, his fur a comfort beneath Brand’s fingers as the world blurred past. Fern sat in front of him, holding Lunara in a vise-like grip, keeping her limp body from jostling. Even the old spell that had worked to confuse them before was nothing against the wolf’s speed. And when the path was too narrow, too low for the mighty wolf, Mag cradled Lunara in his arms as they fled on foot.
Brand hated every second of those smaller passes.
Before he knew it, the entrance loomed above them. The promise of open air had him scrambling from Pet’s back and unsuccessfully dodging a petite fist when he tried to help Fern get down with Lunara, the Fae clocking him in the side of the head.
“Not on your life, Demon.”
Fern swung a leg over and leapt, her feet never touching the ground. She flew straight up to the surface with her burden, Lunara’s hair a streaming trail behind them.
Brand’s feet were rooted to the floor. He swore there were two, layered voices as she said that.
Solyrian at sunset.
A basket of ripe strawberries.
The pages of a book.
“Not on your life, Demon.”
“A blackened stone step in the gloom.”
A soft flash, and Magnus stood beside him, donning his robe. “What’s that?”
“Lunara, she…” He was so afraid to look too close. To lose it. “‘Not on your life, Demon.’ She said that to me once. Somewhere dark. I…”
His brother stilled, barely breathing. “Go on.”
A shift inside, ever so slightly. Just to see a little more. “I was terrified.” He pressed a hand to his chest, recalling the stop of his own heart. “Pissed, as I chased her cheeky arse out into the grey of the…the…”
Fuck. It was right there. So bloody close.
“The Thodelemaia Dread Chasm.”
At his brother’s whisper, the vision dissipated, a final flash of Lunara’s arched brow all he was left with. Brand slumped, his sigh explosive. “There’s nothing else.”
“There’s plenty else, you wee bastard.” Mag engulfed Brand in his arms, squeezing. “Ach, you’ve done well. The rest is there, you’ll get it. Just keep trying, aye?”
Brand sank into the embrace for a moment, until there was faintest pull at his center. A beckoning, from above ground, like he was coming to life.
No.
It was her. There, the tiniest flicker. Lunara was coming to life, and he felt it.
Brand scrambled up to the surface, his brother right behind. He barely noticed Hedda and Faldir rushing over, or Thad tugging him up the rest of the way. Their words were nothing against the rush in his ears.
Spinning to find her, he hadn’t realized how heavy the caverns were until the night air hit his face. Even ravaged as the Westrealm was, that breeze on his skin, the blooming radiance inside of him—they were the most beautiful things in the world.
A flare of light in the near distance caught his attention, urging his feet to move.
Lunara hovered, the scorched grass crackling beneath her. Every inch of her glowed, the rainbow shards beneath her skin glittering. Pressure built, a breathless teeter before the drop.
