“Thank you.” I clear my throat as tears burn my eyes. “Now let’s get this over with.” I bring the vile to my lips, tip my head back, and gag as I force the liquid down my throat. “It tastes just like . . . death.”
As the poison swims through my veins, my limbs numb, and then my eyelids shut as I fall into the darkness.
My eyes snap open, and I trip back, gasping for air. I quickly run my hands all over my body, making sure everything’s intact, then take in my surroundings.
I’m in a grassy field just outside of a forest. A light breeze kisses the grass, and crows circle above my head.
“This is just like my nightmare,” I mutter to myself then quickly duck as the crows dive for my head. “Stop!” I shout at the top of my lungs, and they scatter like mice.
I stand back up and look around the field for Alana. I can’t see her anywhere but notice one crow hovering above my head like it is dancing.
It circles around and flies off toward the trees. Like in my nightmare, I chase after it until it takes off upward, disappearing into the sky and leaving me all alone. Then I trample through the grass, walking for what seems like forever until I finally stumble across a rundown house that looks like it once caught fire.
Trembling from nerves, I carefully walk up the porch stairs and open the front door. When I step inside, I’m standing in a house with charred walls.
“This is the house that was in Iceland,” I whisper to myself as I inch inside.
The floorboards groan underneath me, and the door slams shut.
“No.” I spin and yank on the doorknob, but it won’t budge. “Please, please open. Don’t lock me in here.”
“Calm down, Gemma. You’re all right,” Alana says from behind me.
I turn to face her, still tense. “I wasn’t sure if I was in the right place or not. Then I realized I’ve been in this house before and I panicked.”
“Everything’s going to be okay.” She offers me her hand. “But we still have a ways to go.”
I take her hand, and then she guides me up the creaking stairs. With each step, the weight I have been carrying in my chest becomes lighter. I don’t know if it’s the place or the fact that I’m technically dead, but I can see reality clearer and accept it.
“I’m going to die and so is Alex,” I say to Alana. “We have to, don’t we? Otherwise, there’s no way of killing the star and Stephan. I mean, I always kind of knew it was going to happen, but now I know it . . . can actually feel it.”
“Death is like that,” she says, resting her hand on the banister as we reach the top of the stairway. “It makes accepting things—even death itself—less difficult because you don’t have the complication of life.”
“Are you sure there’s not another way?” But as soon as I ask it, I can feel the answer, understand there’s not another way. I’m going to die for real and very soon. “Maybe a way to at least save Alex.”
“You’d do that? Choose his life over yours?” As we stop in front of a solid door, she looks at me, appearing astonished.
I nod, wholly aware at that moment just how much I care about Alex. “I care about him . . . And I want out daughter to have her father around while she’s growing up.”
The door makes a grumbling sound and Alana stiffens.
“Hold that thought for a while, okay?” Alana extends her hand for the doorknob. “Right now, we need to focus on getting you to the queen.”
“I have a feeling this isn’t going to be as easy as you said.”
“Nothing’s ever easy, even in death.”
She swings the door open, and we step into the darkness. The air is so thick and suffocating I nearly pass out. Then the most rancid smell burns my nostrils, and suddenly I’m kneeling down and throwing up on the dirt floor.
Once I’ve emptied my stomach, Alana helps me to my feet.
“Keep your head down and try not to look at anything,” she whispers as we head down a narrow tunnel.
I slant my chin down and let my hair curtain my face. I hold my breath and quickly realize I no longer need air. I grow fascinated with the idea, trying to suck air in and out of my lungs until I