Because my mirrormark is gone.
EIGHT
Ky
Here’s the plan. We head west.” I spread the rolled map flat over the low coffee table in the cottage’s sitting area.
My decision not to go this alone solidifies more with each second, with each nod of reassurance I receive from one of the team. We all have something to lose or gain here. Division only causes more division. Did I truly believe I was stronger on my own? Idiot. I need my crew and they need me. With our strengths combined, we just might succeed in achieving the impossible.
Find the Verity’s vessel. Destroy the Void.
I don’t wanna brag or nothin’, but it’ll be awesome to say, “Me? Yeah, I was there when the greatest darkness in all the Reflections was annihilated. No big deal.” I can feel Em elbowing me now. The thought melts the ice inside.
But back to business. My throat clears as all eyes train on me. Except for Wren Song’s. She stands by the front window. Her black hair falls down her back past her waist, the only light a blue streak by her left ear. Arms folded over her chest, she refuses to face me. I’ve only witnessed one other person be so stubborn. She and David were made for each other.
I ignore her insolence and point to our current location. “Elang Creek Threshold just behind us is useless.” I slide my pointer finger a few inches to the left. “Astape Creek Threshold, where we entered the Fifth, would return us to the Fourth . . . if it hadn’t drained.” I smirk. “But that’s not where we want to go anyway.” I tap a line denoting a waterway northwest of that. “Our best hope to find Em—the Verity’s vessel—is to travel through a wormhole just as she did. The Threshold beyond Nabka Compound may be a viable option. If we can reach it before it drains, we may be able to time our entry just right.”
It’s a guessing game, a huge risk, but what else can we do? “Nitegra Compound is on the way. We’ll stop there to refresh and replenish supplies. We may be permitted to borrow a few horses as well. Isaach and Breckan made it clear their resources are available for our use. By now Dahlia and Flint should have gathered information regarding the status of the Fifth’s other Thresholds.”
My gaze finds Em’s mom and a silent conversation passes between us. Her approving smile speaks volumes.
“With the illustrious Fairy Queen after Elizabeth and Evan, I feel it’s best the group remaining in the Fifth surround themselves with numbers, and the Nitegra tribe certainly has enough man—and woman—power to go around.” Sound plan, if I do say so myself.
Now it’s the Commander who nods his approval. I wait for his second nod before carrying on.
“We have two main objectives. Let’s go over them now to make everyone clear.” I ignore my timeline anxiety. I stayed behind for good reason. I need to own it. “Isabeau exists because of the Void. According to Dahlia, the original Verity’s vessel wants to put Elizabeth to sleep forever with her Midnight Rose. Objective number one—keep Mrs. Archer out of the Fairy Queen’s grasp.”
The map snaps into a roll upon my release. I rise and stuff the paper tube into the back pocket of my cargo pants. “We can use her determination for revenge to our advantage. With the Troll–slash–Fairy Queen focused on playing the villain, she’ll be out of our hair. The last thing we want is for Isabeau to know objective number two—that we intend to annihilate the Void.”
“Why would she care?” Tide casually raises his hand. He looks as if he’s ordering a drink rather than asking a serious question.
I wave for him to lower his arm. This isn’t a classroom, man.
With a slick-back of his Islander hair, he says, “I mean, she’s immortal, right?” He stands, speaking while turning in a slow circle, a leadership tactic he learned from Countess Ambrose no doubt. “But according to the story we acquired from my mother—may she drift upon the tranquil waters—all the Fairy Queen’s troubles stemmed from a single event: a broken heart.” His fist pounds his chest.
I sense his words hold a double meaning, and Isabeau’s broken heart is not the only one he’s referring to.
“If we destroy the Void,” Tide says, “wouldn’t it be in Isabeau’s best interest as well?”
And here is the million-dollar question.
“On the surface.” Ebony speaks up, emerging from the bathroom at last. Khloe joins her, ever the side to Ebony’s kick. “But my mother isn’t known for being sensible. The single thing she cares about is her own survival. If the Void doesn’t exist, maybe she doesn’t either. We can’t know for sure.”
No, we can’t. Her double meaning doesn’t elude me either. An extinct Isabeau may also mean a never-born Ebony. If changing the past means erasing things in the present, the sacrifices we make may be greater than we know. Still, this must go deeper than Isabeau simply wanting to survive and exact revenge.
I close my eyes, altering Tide’s question into a riddle. He’s right. Isabeau, of all people, should desire the darkness extinguished. No Void means no pain, no heartbreak. If it never existed, she might have remained in the Garden, living as day rather than banished by night. Shouldn’t she want that night gone forever? In a perfect Reflection we could recruit her as an ally and not view her as our enemy. But all she’s concerned with is taking revenge on Elizabeth and taking down whomever she can along the way.
I open my eyes. And this is the unseen thing outside the box.
“The Void is all she has.” I scratch my throbbing arm. Without Em’s love, the shadows would be my sole companion too. “When the Verity abandoned her, the Void was there.” Frantic, I dig through my pack, withdraw the old book, and flip to the dog-eared page marking The Scrib’s Fate. “‘She clung to the darkness, and though she was not the Void’s vessel, its blackness left a mark. She never loved again. Until Tiernan.’”
I look to Ebony for confirmation. The way she avoids my gaze is all the proof I need.
“I suspect Tiernan was the first man in centuries Isabeau allowed herself to love,” I say.
Ebony swallows and I detect the slightest nod, but it’s Elizabeth who voices the truth. “He mentioned her only once, after we were . . . together.” Her head hangs. “I did not know he was married. Isabeau was not even his true wife, but his mistress, as I was. I am guessing she was not aware of his marriage to Ky’s mother either.”
Makai draws her close, rubbing her arm up and down.
I clench my fists around the tome. I always assumed the man who raised me did not act in faithfulness toward my adoptive mother. Learning he was Em’s father only confirmed my suspicion. But to hear it spoken of again boils my black blood as if I’m hearing the news for the first time.
“All Tiernan said was he would never return to Isabeau, not after learning what evils she was capable of. I had seen him angry but never afraid. Not until that moment. It was the final time I encountered him before I fled with Eliyana.”
Wren makes a repulsed sound in her throat, a sound reminiscent of a dying bird.
I’ve half a mind to put her out of her misery. But, as we may need her shape-shifting talents, I refrain.
At last she turns to face the group.
It’s about time.
“Are you serious?” she squawks. “All of this because of jealousy and revenge? It’s a little juvenile, don’t you think?”
Ha. She should talk. Wren hated Em from the moment she laid eyes on her. It’s the same way she looks at me. “No,” I say. “Not really.” Listen and learn, Bird-Girl. “Isn’t this what every great tragedy in history has stemmed from?”