Persie Merlin and the Door to Nowhere by Bella Forrest Page 0,119

sighed. “Truthfully, I did not know about the new wing until after we spoke last. I said only what I thought to be true at the time. And I would have remedied your feeling of guilt during this meeting, but you had already figured it out yourself.” His voice turned soft and caring, which unsettled me more than his cool-as-a-cucumber act.

I could hate Leviathan. Hate was easy because he’d caused me so much upset. But to think he might actually be on my side, trying to help me through this in his own twisted way… That was harder to swallow. He was trying to get me to stand on my own two feet, like I’d wanted. And that notion boggled my mind.

Crap, can he hear all of this? I peered at him, but he showed no sign that he’d invaded my private thoughts. Maybe he really meant it. The idea alone sounded insane: it suggested he had some sort of moral compass. But if he had read my mind at that moment, he wouldn’t have been able to resist a dig at my expense.

“What lies beyond that door is likely treacherous,” he said instead. “It is a mystery. No one has ever come back from it. So, you must be cautious. Do not be foolish and get yourself trapped there, too. Take pains. Gain insight. Have courage. Never try to be a hero, for heroes have a tendency to die gloriously.”

I nodded uncertainly. “Then I need to get back to the real world, where I can make a difference. Genie needs me, now more than ever. And I will figure this out, because that’s what I do, even if you ‘highly doubt’ it.”

He laughed and reached out his hand, pausing just shy of my cheek. “Ah yes, the Atlantean firecracker. By all means, return and rescue the wench. That girl has grown on me in recent years. She is a good friend to you. And you will need good friends, later…”

Before I could ask what the heck that was supposed to mean, a blinding pain tore through my skull, and the shadows and the box and Leviathan’s eerie eyes vanished. This time, at least, I knew where I would wake up.

Twenty-Eight

Persie

“Persie?” Someone shook my shoulders. “Persie? Can you hear me?”

My eyes opened slowly to the hazy glow at the bottom of the sphere and Boudicca staring at me upside down from where she stood on my forehead. Nathan loomed over me, his expression deeply concerned.

“I’m okay,” I croaked. “How long was I out?” My head still throbbed, but I could handle that. Although Leviathan might’ve given me a heart attack by choosing the worst possible time for a telepathic visit, at least I’d come away with something useful: Inwalla.

“Ten minutes or so.” He helped me sit up, and I discovered that all of the pixies had formed a protective circle around me. A murmur of relief rippled through the creatures, some of them wiping their brows with their usual brand of melodrama. “What happened? You were talking, and then you just… keeled over.”

Only ten minutes? It had felt a lot longer.

“I’m not sure,” I lied. “I think it was an aftershock symptom of my last Purge. But I’m fine now.” I couldn’t bring myself to explain about the glass box or how real it had felt. I knew Nathan would’ve understood, and that he wouldn’t have judged me for it—he already knew, to some extent, about Leviathan’s mental visits. However, there was a huge difference between Leviathan talking to me and him being able to take control of my mind long enough to drag me out of reality and into… wherever we’d been. Nathan didn’t need to know all that, not right then. We had plenty of other concerns on our collective plate.

Nathan squinted, as though he only half-believed me. “Does that happen often?”

“It’s mostly headaches and residual pains, but I did Purge a bunch of creatures at once this time, so the aftereffects are more intense. Honestly, I’m fine now.”

Nathan sighed with relief. “Thank goodness for that. You had me worried.” I stared at the phone in his hand, which he hurriedly slipped back into his pocket. He gave me a solemn look and said, “I was about five seconds away from sending the pixies off to hide and calling for help. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know if you were going to wake up.”

“Then… thank you for waiting.” I meant it. If Nathan had phoned Victoria,