hardening before she crossed to the edge of the smoking chasm to stare into the ruined gallery below. “You should know, there is a one-way portal in the deepest alcove. It hasn’t been used since the last Demon Lord visited, but if it’s still viable, it will take you straight to Cimmeria, the trading capital of the Demon Lands and stronghold of the Demon Lord, Malik Damir. Rumor has it that is where Malik keeps his blood augur mistress.”
The Keeper. Haven’s excitement guttered as she glanced at Stolas.
Despite his efforts to hide his condition, he was fading before her eyes. His breathing was labored, his wings drooped as if holding them up was too much effort, and his irises were the color of bleached bone.
Something told her that was not good.
“I need to find him . . . sustenance.” There really was no great way to say it.
“There.” He lifted his gaze to hers, the act taking way more effort than it should have. “I can . . . find what I need there.”
Surai scoffed. “You cannot be serious. The Demon Realm? You know what they will do to Haven?”
“I do,” Stolas murmured, “and I have a plan for that.”
“Do you?” Surai countered. “Because in your condition, I doubt you will survive the portal.”
Haven craned her neck for a better view of the sky. The smoke from the battered city formed a veil that dimmed the setting sun, casting fingers of murky orange and muddy yellow over everything. Somewhere just out of sight waited Archeron and his reinforcements. He would have had time to thread over hundreds if not thousands of men. Haven was confident in her powers—but not that confident.
They had no choice but to go through the Demon Realm.
Haven hated to point out the obvious but . . . “How will we return to this realm?”
“It’s brilliant, actually,” Stolas rasped, hand pressed into the bandages on his chest—bandages soaked through with dark blood. “The mirror will take us straight back to Starpiercer Castle.”
“Assuming the Keeper doesn’t kill us,” Ember amended. She had an arm around a Valkyrie as she helped the soldier up. “Our light magick doesn’t work in the Demon Realm. Not like it does here.”
Haven released a disappointed breath. That was a blow, one she wasn’t expecting. Still. “I made it a very long time against near-impossible odds without magick. We’ll be fine. But you and Surai aren’t coming.”
Surai and Ember opened their mouths to argue—
“I need you both in Shadoria to ready the troops for travel to Eritreyia. Bell is already there amassing the last of our allies.”
As the graveness of their task sank in, they dipped their heads in solemn obedience. In Haven’s periphery, she caught the queen watching the interaction with unabashed curiosity.
“And you, Soror?” Surai asked. “When will we see you again?”
Haven wanted to wrap her arms around her friend, just in case it was the last time they met. But thinking like that—acting like that felt like a bad omen. So she gave Surai a radiant smile and hoped her friend knew how much she appreciated her.
How much she loved her.
“Soon.” Haven turned to the queen. “I take it you have someone trained in the art of threading?”
“Of course, but to create a portal to Shadoria will take half a day, at least.”
“Then I humbly ask that you offer shelter to my friends until then.”
Haven knew what she was asking. Once Archeron learned of her escape, he would be furious. Enough to take that out on Ember and Surai? She didn’t think he would risk the Morgani’s ire to hurt them, but it was still asking a lot of the queen.
The queen arched a brow. “Asking favors? I was not aware our friendship had progressed to that level yet.”
“Then consider it repayment.” The words she left out—for saving your life, Queen—hung in the air between them.
“I thought I already repaid you when I so helpfully made you aware of the portal below.”
“Then look at it as a down payment on our future together.”
The queen never let down her hard mask as she gave a subtle nod, but the corners of her lips twitched upward.
Long shadows fell over them as the sun finished its descent, and Haven shivered. Soon Archeron would grow impatient. Yesterday she would have said he wouldn’t dare attack in the Morgani Queen’s presence. But that was before she saw Archeron’s wild desperation, his . . . his obsession.
That was the only word that even came close to describing