chest and my stomach, and both were sinking in—which meant my body…
Please, Mother Mage, let Rage and Carson be helping my plan come to fruition.
Thunder rumbled, and I looked up to the Keeper. “What … was … that … noise?”
“I hear nothing,” he told me. “Whatever sound you hear is where your body resides. And if you can hear it there, your spirit and body are merging.”
I couldn’t let that happen until the portal to the Realm of the Dead was opened.
So with every last shred of energy still coursing through me, I yanked my hands apart.
The explosion was like a bomb going off.
Chapter Nineteen
“Nooo!” The queen’s shrill scream tore through the air as my soul and body merged again. The second my spirit slammed into my body, I was falling. Everything was moving too fast to know if my plan worked—the world around me a mere blur. I slammed into the ground. Dust kicked up in a plume, and I blinked up into the pale lavender sky of the Realm of the Dead. Groaning, I rolled to my side; the blood from the wound in my abdomen saturated my shirt and covered my hands. I coughed, propping myself up, only to find the wound on my stomach was healed. My head snapped to the right, and I gulped.
Well. My plan had worked. Mostly.
Like 89.5%.
Kalama and the queen now lay on the Keeper of the Dead’s front lawn, their bodies twisted at odd angles. Chunks of rock from the cliff had become giant boulders at the entrance to the gate that led to the Keeper’s castle.
“Really, Nai!” The Keeper snapped, stepping to my side in nothing but his gold speedo. He waved at the mess I’d just created and said, “You’ve ruined my beautiful garden.”
I winced and climbed to my feet. Sure enough, the cliff face had crushed innumerable trees and shrubs, and a fine layer of dust coated the rest of the plants. Grimacing, I turned to face him. Yikes.
He was furious, red-faced, and nostrils flaring angrily. Not only that … I was here in human form. Again.
“But I brought you a present,” I said, waving to the blood mages. “A couple presents.”
His eyes moved past me to the two women, also in their physical forms, and the Keeper’s anger evaporated.
“Kalama, you little snake,” he hissed. His expression morphed into one of triumphant glee. “Come to join your sister, have you?”
I looked at the blood mages as they stood, their bodies bleeding and bruised but otherwise alive. Kalama nervously brushed the dust off her pants, her eyes going wild as she looked around the Realm of the Dead. Her gaze flicked to the sky where the portal I’d created was now closed. She was trapped.
Well, we all were.
“Keeper, good to see you…” she said, her voice cracking.
“Let us go back, Keeper. Surely there is something you want—something we could give you? Something we could get for you?” Queen Banpiroa looked at him with an expression that I think was an effort at pleading, but she just looked constipated. Her gaze darted to me, and her lip curled. “Someone we could kill for you?”
Legit? She was trying to bargain with the Keeper of the Dead—by threatening me?
The Keeper followed her gaze to me, and instead of jumping on her let-us-kill-Nai bandwagon, he grinned. “Well done, Nai. Now, I have the entire set of the ruling blood mages for my collection.”
A giggle—equal parts relief and euphoria—burst from my lips. “You’re welcome.”
“No!” Kalama exclaimed, her voice warbling. Her gaze bounced from the Keeper to me and then back to him. “Please, let us go!”
“Got a soul stone?” He held out his hand, his lips pursed, but the corners twitched as if he was trying not to laugh.
The soul stones in my pocket almost felt like they were burning a hole through me, but I kept quiet and acted natural.
Both women scowled at him, and their eyes flooded black.
“You know we haven’t,” the queen snarled. “But if you let us go back—”
“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “That’s not how this works, my bloodthirsty fiends.” He pushed his lips out into a mock pout. “So sad … for you. I guess you’ll spend eternity in the darkness of the outlands. But not to worry,” he added in a rush as their expressions turned to panic. “You’ll be with Surlama.”
“But—” The queen and her protest disappeared when he flicked his wrist. A gust of wind picked up the two women in a swirling tornado.