“Uri?” The candle flickering on my bedside table doesn’t reveal much beyond my bed, but I recognize the urisk’s shape and his gravelly voice. “What—what are you talking about?”
He climbs off the armchair and comes toward me. “The catalyst. The moment you felt the first whisper of love, the potion kicked in.”
“Love? For Ryn?”
“For anyone you loved before you forgot everything. It didn’t have to be Ryn. It could have been your father or Raven—or Tora if she were still around. Even Filigree. Your mind had to remember something first, even if it was only the feeling. The potion latched onto that and filled in everything else.”
“And you knew that was what had to happen? Before you gave me the potion?”
He nods.
“Why didn’t you tell us? Ryn was really upset when it didn’t work.”
“I didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”
I think about that and realize he was right not to tell me. Knowing I had to reach the point where I loved him in order to get my memories back would have put major pressure on us. And he would have thought I was only trying to love him to make the potion work. I wipe my fingers beneath my eyes, then push my hands through my hair. I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Uri. I was starting to think you wouldn’t be able to fix me.”
“No need to apologize.” He pats my ankle. “I probably would have doubted me too after the first potion went so horribly wrong. As it is, I had no idea this one would knock you out for so many hours. But I suppose your mind had a lot to process.”
I nod. “Was Ryn mad at you when I passed out and didn’t wake up?”
“Oh, yes. He was raving about some human faerie story where the prince is supposed to wake up his princess with a kiss, not put her to sleep.”
“Hmm.” I sniff back a few more tears. “Don’t know that one.”
“Me neither.”
“Do you know where Ryn is?” I was expecting him to be the one waiting in the armchair.
“I’m sorry, but he’s out.”
“Out? Where? What time is it?” I’m suddenly terrified I’ve slept through the whole day and everyone’s gone off to the final battle without me.
“Don’t panic, it’s still early morning. You’ve got plenty of time to prepare for tonight.”
“So where’s Ryn gone then?”
“I’m not sure. Something that needed to be checked.”
That doesn’t sound right.
I climb over Filigree and jump off the bed. “Thanks, Uri,” I say as I yank the door open and rush out. My bare feet slap the tiles as I search for the corridor with the pole. I need to go down five floors to the rooms where the meetings and planning happens. It’ll be a lot faster if I don’t have to use the stairs.
I can’t believe what I put Ryn through. Being terrified I was dead or marked, then finally finding me, and then discovering I didn’t have a clue who he was. I have to find him. I have to tell him I love him—before it’s too late and we’re all marked or dead. Because I do. I love Ryn with every fiber of my being, and I should have said those words to him every single day before I screwed things up. And now he’s out there somewhere, and I can’t help the terrifying feeling that I’ve missed my chance. That it’s too late. That he’ll never get to hear those words from me.
I reach the pole and swing my leg around it. The floor disappears beneath my feet, and I whoosh down, counting the floors I pass. I stop myself in time to jump onto the level just above transportation. I run to the room where Ryn and I found Oliver when we returned with Tilly yesterday, but he isn’t there.
“Oliver?” I ask the man looking up at me in surprise.
“Uh, surveillance, I think.” When I raise both eyebrows, he points left and adds, “A few doors that way.”
I hurry further along the corridor, peeking through half-open doors until I find a ginger-colored head. I push the door open and step inside. “Oliver?” I say. He turns. The moment I see his face, I’m overwhelmed by memories of Tora and how excited she was the first time she told me about him. Fresh tears well up in my eyes. I clamp a hand over my mouth, suddenly unable to speak. When I get control over my voice, I lower my hand and say, “I’m so sorry about Tora.”
He stares at me, a sheen glistening over his eyes. “You remember?”
I nod. “Everything.”
“How? Was it Uri’s—”
“Where’s Ryn?” I don’t have time to explain Uri’s potion to Oliver.
“He’s . . .” Oliver blinks and clears his throat. “Something unexpected had to be investigated. He and Em volunteered, along with two senior guardians. They left about twenty minutes ago.”
Anxiety squirms in my stomach. “What do you mean by ‘unexpected’?”
“Activity that shouldn’t have been there.”
“Activity? Like Draven’s people? And you sent them out there?”
“We need to know what’s going on, Vi. We don’t want any nasty surprises tonight.”
“Where did you send them?” Please tell me, please tell me.
Oliver shakes his head. “You can’t go after them, Vi.”
“But I need to see Ryn. I need to talk to him.”
“You can do that when he comes back.”
Which makes sense, except . . . what if he doesn’t come back? I look around, noticing the contents of the room for the first time. Just goes to show how distracted I am; I used to be pretty observant. Against two of the room’s four walls runs a counter lined with glass spheres about twice the size of a person’s head. Images move within each sphere, and two women with clipboards slide back and forth on wheels with chairs, examining the images and making notes. “What are those?” I ask, nodding toward the glass spheres.
“Surveillance. We’ve been monitoring Draven’s warriors for a while now.”
“Even the Unseelie Court?”
“No, but everywhere else groups of marked fae have been gathering.”
An elf peers into the room and calls for Oliver. “Look, Vi, I’ve got to go. And you need to grab a quick breakfast, then come to the Training Center with everyone else. We’re running through the plan for tonight once more.”
I bite my lip, nod, and watch Oliver walk out the door.
“Oh, and put your protective gear on before you come to the Training Center,” he adds, poking his head back into the room.
I frown. “My what?”
“You’ll find it in your room. The gear should’ve been delivered while you were sleeping.”
He disappears, and I steal another glance at the spheres. Some of them show nothing but landscape or walls. Others show faeries in dark blue walking around. When I see a sphere with a blonde-and-green head crouching behind a rock, my heart thumps faster. I know who that is.
“I’m sorry, Vi, is it?” one of the clipboard women says to me. “I don’t think you should be in here. Oliver already told you where you need to be.”
I hurry out of the room and take off at a run. I know exactly where Em was crouching. We have to pass that oddly shaped rock every time we fly out of the valley. Which means the unexpected activity Oliver was talking about is happening within the protective dome. And that is definitely disturbing.
Unfortunately, I can’t slide up the pole, so I have to use the stairs to return to my room. I run all the way up. I find the protective gear Oliver mentioned at the foot of my bed; I guess Filigree was sleeping on it earlier. He’s now a squirrel tucked beneath my pillow. I can see his fluffy tail sticking out.
I strip my clothes off, tug the dark grey gear on—I’m pleased to see it’s made of the tight, stretchy stuff I like to fight in—and shove my feet into my boots. My new gear comes with a jacket too, which is thin and close-fitting, but feels unusually warm when I put it on. There’s definitely magic in this stuff.
I shove my stylus into my boot as I dash out of the room and head back to the pole. I slide all the way to the bottom this time, then hurry onto the transpor
tation level’s landing strip. Yes, I’m aware that my disobeying authority is what got us all into this monumental mess in the first place, but heading out on my own isn’t on quite the same level as conspiring with a nameless person from the Unseelie Court. That move got people killed—don’t think about that now—but this only affects me.
I ignore the doors on either side of the strip. I don’t need to go far once I’m outside, so it’s not like I need a pegasus or a dragon or anything. I stand in the center of the wide strip, make sure I’m surrounded by a bubble of air, and start running. It takes some concentration to keep the bubble moving with me, but I can handle it. What’s a little more difficult is running full-on at a solid wall and reminding myself that I will pass through it instead of smashing into it. I add an extra spurt of speed for the last few steps, then dive at the wall. It vanishes around me, and suddenly my bubble and I are floating in the river instead.
I propel the bubble up to the top of the water and out onto the bank. I let it go with a pop that sprinkles tiny droplets of water over me. Now, where is that rock? I look around to orient myself. The morning sun is just peeking above the rim of the valley. The waterfall is directly behind me, which means the rock is somewhere up on the left, near the edge of the protective dome.
As quietly as I can, I run between trees, bushes, and rocks. No snow for me to wade through here; I guess Draven’s winter couldn’t pass through the enchantments. Up, up I climb, using branches to aid me in places that are steep. I imagine Ryn’s face when he turns and sees me. I imagine wrapping my arms around him as me, the person who remembers every experience we’ve shared and who knows beyond a doubt that I love him with my whole heart.
I see the rock, but there’s no one there anymore. I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with that because it’s been at least fifteen minutes since I saw Em in the sphere. She and the rest of the group have obviously gone further, beyond the invisible barrier perhaps.
I reach the rock and crouch down behind it. I peer around the side—and my heart stops. Then it kicks into horrifying action, spreading adrenaline and heartbreak throughout my body.
Noooo!
My hand shoots forward, as if I could catch him, as if I could pull him back to safety. But my fist closes around air. I force myself not to run after him, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I watch the group of armed men carrying Ryn’s motionless form away, along with Em and two others, and there isn’t a damn freaking thing I can do about it. NononoNO! I clench my other fist and slam it against the rock. Ryn’s words from a few days ago come back to me with horrifying clarity. The last thing I’ll do is fight for him. I’d rather be dead. No, he wouldn’t do that, would he? Would he really kill himself before letting them mark him? I find myself hoping Draven casts his spell before Ryn wakes up; at least that way he’ll be alive.
Oh, dear Seelie Queen, what if Oliver’s team comes across him tonight when they attack the Unseelie Court? If he fights them, and they can’t stun him, they’ll have no choice but to . . .
No, stop it!
I lean back against the rock and close my eyes for a moment. For freak’s sake, just CALM DOWN. This isn’t the way a guardian acts in a crisis. Figure something out instead of panicking.
Okay, this is not the end of my world. We are, after all, invading the Unseelie Court tonight, so I don’t have to wait that long before we can get Ryn back. And the others, of course. But I need to tell Oliver about this right now. Because what the freak are Draven’s men doing just on the other side of our protective dome? They’re not supposed to know we’re here.
I push away from the rock and wipe my shaking hands against my pants. Before I can take a step forward, bright light grows around me, exploding suddenly and vanishing a moment later. I flinch and duck down, even though nothing came near me.
What was that?
It happens again. I spin around in my crouching position as I search the sky for the source of the light. I see it. Bright sparks soar through the air high above me, then explode when they strike the invisible barrier of protection. More sparks shoot into the air, all different colors, all heading straight for the valley.
My gaze drops to the ground, searching for the faeries releasing the sparks, and what I see is terrifying enough to freeze the blood in my veins. Endless lines of faeries are marching toward the valley. Every single one in the front row has his or her arm extended, pointing a stylus at the barrier that I never doubted until this moment could protect us. The flashes of light grow in number and intensity, and still I’m frozen to the spot. And then, with a blast that rings in my ears, a powerful white rush of sparks whooshes past me and strikes a tree, igniting it in an instant.
They’ve broken through.
Oh. Freaking. Hell.
I’ve never run so fast. I’ve also never tripped so much in such a short space of time. Damn roots and slippery vines and steep patches with loose sand. I hear shouts behind me and the steady tromp of hundreds of feet. Thousands? I have no idea. The crackle and hiss of flames announces more trees on fire behind me. Smoke fills my nostrils, and all the fear and horror from the night of The Destruction comes rushing back to me.
I don’t look back. I jump and slide and run some more. Ryn told me there’s an entrance behind the waterfall. Will it be faster to go through there than dive into the river? The ground is flat now as I dash alongside water lit up with orange light. I pump my arms and legs. Faster, faster. I leap onto the rocks below the waterfall, slipping a little, but regaining my balance almost immediately. I dive at the pounding wall of water, hoping desperately that I’m not about to either slam into hard rock or get crushed by the falling river.
I land and stumble a few steps forward on a tiled floor. The foyer. Not far from the dining room. I’m not even wet. “We’re under attack!” I scream. Guardians and other fae race up and down the large stairway and along the corridors. This isn’t the bustle of a busy day; a far greater urgency drives them.
I dash out of the way as guardians in protective gear line up in formation across the foyer. Others take their position on the stairs. Elves line up beside them. At a shout from someone, they raise their arms in unison and aim arrows at the waterfall I just jumped through. Light flashes from behind the curtain of water, and sparks skitter across the tiled floor.
Draven’s army is almost inside.
And I have to find Oliver.
I race along the corridors without a clue as to what I’m supposed to do now. We didn’t prepare for this, did we? Unexpected invasion? Or maybe we did, and Ryn and I missed that part. People run in every direction around me, shouting to each other and pulling on their grey protective jackets. I’m not sure if they have a purpose or if they’re as lost as I am.
Tilly. She must be terrified. This isn’t what Oliver told her would happen. Crap, crapping crap. I slow my footsteps and duck into a doorway to avoid being trampled. Since I have no other orders, I’ll make up my own: Protect Tilly. Protect the Star. So where is she? With Oliver, right? Didn’t he say he wasn’t letting her out of his sight? But she wasn’t with him when I spoke to him just now . . .
Wait a freaking second. Why am I searching the corridors for Oliver when I can search with my head? Surely I’ve interacted with him enough times for there to be some kind of connection between us? I close my eyes and reach automatically with my mind. Oliver, Oliver, where are you?
“Violet!” As if I’ve conjured him into being with my own thoughts, I open my eyes and find him racing up to me. He grabs my arm and takes a few gasping breaths. “Dammit, I can’t find Tilly.”
“What?”
“I’ve searched everywhere! Amon was keeping an eye on her, and now I can’t find him either. Can you—”
“Yes, I’ll find her. Is Draven here?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell’s going on. I’ve only seen guardians and warriors. So many of them are inside already.” He tugs at his hair and swears. Then he grabs the sword strap across his
chest, lifts it over his head, and thrusts it into my hands. “She’ll need this. I . . . I have to go.” And with that he takes off.
I hold onto the sword tightly, watching Oliver disappear around a corner. Will I ever see him again? Okay, relax. You’ll never find Tilly if you panic. I turn around and rest my forehead against the door. I grip the hilt of the sword, imagine Tilly’s smiling face, and let my mind go. Relax. She’s here somewhere. My mind brushes past hundreds of others as it searches, reaching further and further as the seconds pass. Searching, searching. Further out. Past the walls of our base . . .
Nothing.
Fear grips me with an iron fist. I pull the sword strap over my head and start running. Pushing past people. I can’t keep still. Why am I getting nothing? This is just like when I searched for Calla and—
I stop. It’s because Tilly isn’t here, I realize. She’s been taken. She must be hidden somewhere protective the same way Calla and all those other prisoners with special abilities were. Either that or she’s . . . No, I refuse to believe she’s no longer alive. If that’s the case, we may as well kneel down and let Draven mark us now. But who would take her?
I press the fingers of my left hand to my temple and rub. Amon was keeping an eye on her. That’s what Oliver said. And Amon wouldn’t do anything to her. He’s a librarian. I remember him being strict, even mean on occasion when unruly trainees needed to be put in line, but he was always willing to help me out with assignments and . . .
My mind races through the memories I have of Amon and comes to a grinding halt at just one. The night this all started. The night Nate followed me through the faerie paths and set everything in motion. I had to take him back to the Guild with me. I noticed how empty the Guild was because, of course, it was late at night. But I remember seeing Amon there. We passed him on the stairs.
My mind freezes the image of Amon as Zell’s words from a night that feels so long ago play over in my ears. I realized Nathaniel was at the Guild, so I just had my spy inform me when he left, and I waited for him in the forest. Was Amon watching as Nate and I left the Guild that night? Was he the one who told Zell?