with her grubby hands.
Tears continued to pour down her cheeks as she looked around, and Donna realized that they were real tears—tears of grief and pain rather than simply the result of too much smoke. People had died here today. Navin was gone, presumably still trapped in the Otherworld. There was no way Demian would let him return, not after what she’d done to him. She hugged herself as she sat on the hard earth and sobbed, finally letting it all out.
Only a few trees remained. She tried to block out the last sounds of fighting—a few scavengers from the Otherworld had managed to stay behind when the gates were closed for the last time—but it was impossible to ignore the things that were still happening. Demons screamed, and the dragon roared in the distance.
She listened to the echo of her father’s voice in her head—the voice she’d heard while dreaming in a river that had no beginning and no end—and he told her to stay strong. It’s what he would have said if he were alive today. She knew that. But that didn’t make it easy to do. She was tired of staying strong. Heroes in books and movies … it always seemed like everything came too easy to them. There was a bit of struggle, sure, but you knew they were going to win in the end.
How can I win, now? she thought. There was no winning when people she loved were injured—or worse. Her throat ached and she stayed in her position for what seemed like a thousand years, her forehead resting on her knees. She had nothing left in the tank. She was empty. Alone, in those moments, it felt like one of the worst trials she had ever faced.
“Hey,” said a voice. “Did you miss me?”
She looked up so quickly that she almost gave herself whiplash, and found herself staring into Navin Sharma’s shining eyes. He was undeniably dirty, and his jacket was badly ripped, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.
Donna leapt to her feet, finding the energy from somewhere, and threw herself into Navin’s arms, bursting into a fresh round of tears. She hugged him so tightly she was probably hurting him. To his credit, he didn’t complain.
“Navin,” she whispered, over and over again. “Nav, you’re here.” Her voice was hoarse, unrecognizable, scrubbed raw by emotion. She pulled away and stared at him, honestly wondering if this time she really had died and he was a ghost. Or she was back in Demian’s realm. Or—
“It’s really me,” he said. “I know what you’re thinking, Underwood.”
“But … how did you get out?” She wiped at the tears on her face.
“Newton.” Nav shrugged, as though it were obvious.
“You mean you saw him as an actual demon?” Despite everything that had happened, and despite the proverbial shit hitting the fan right now, Donna couldn’t help feeling a stab of curiosity.
“Yeah,” Navin replied. “He looks … pretty fucking weird.”
Donna gasped out a laugh. “Like, how?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t? Um … well, what’s his real name? It’s obviously not Newton.”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Sharma, what’s going on?”
“Seriously, I promised. Apparently it’s a binding deal.”
“You made a deal with a demon? Have you completely lost what remains of your sanity?”
“Clearly,” he said. “I’m friends with you, aren’t I?”
Donna hit him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, well. Whatever.”
“Seriously, if I tell you I’ll have to kill you.”
“You mean Newton will have to kill you.”
“Something like that.” He grinned, but the expression fell just as quickly. “Demian came into the Underworld—appeared out of nowhere, totally covered in flames—and he couldn’t get out again. Things looked pretty bad for a minute. I owe Newton for sure.”
Donna nodded. She didn’t like it, but Nav was here and that was all that mattered. He was safe. “As long as you’re okay.”
“Honestly, owing Newton a favor is a small price to pay for getting out of there.”
She hugged him again. “I believe you.”
Ironwood Forest was gone, the last remnants just debris on a battlefield. The surviving alchemists may have woven wards around the area to hide the truth from human eyes, but something would have to be done to explain the destruction in the future. Still, right now, there were more important concerns.
The casualties were heavy on all sides. Isolde lost her first knight, Taran, who had been slain while defending his queen against a horde of Strix. The faerie queen herself had been injured; a scar stood out against her ivory complexion. Donna was surprised