Page 82 of The Dark Mirror

‘I can hold them off,’ I protested. ‘I can’t just—’

‘There are too many.’ She shoved me away. ‘Find the coastal path. We will follow.’

More Buzzers were breaking through the veil, constricting my aura. One of them locked its white gaze on me. I turned and broke into a sprint.

My torchlight was frantic, jerking each time my boots struck the ground. A shriek raised the hairs on my nape. Following the illuminated route on my watch, I hunted for the hidden path, risking a glance back to see those ghastly eyes, stark against the gloom. Their glow was a pale mockery of the golden fire that must have burned there.

Who were you?

Arcturus might be in the Netherworld. He could have turned into one of those Buzzers.

It was so dark that I almost missed the opening in the trees. Stopping myself just in time, I cleared the first set of cement steps and kept running. The Buzzer howled in my wake.

Thick greenery sliced at my face. This path must have been neglected for years. I hurdled a tree that had slumped over, then barrelled downhill, barely controlling my descent, my bootsslewing on the rough ground. I almost lost my footing as the path turned into steps and back. As I whipped past a rusty construction fence, I glimpsed another cold spot in the foliage, and the gleam of a third, farther away. I had never seen them so close together.

The Buzzer dived at me. Just as I ducked under a branch, the ground vanished, and my stomach dropped. On instinct, I threw up my arms to shield my face.

The first impact crunched the breath from me. The next hit my ribs like a brick wall. I kept my arms wrapped over my head, unable to tell which way was up, waiting for a bone to snap or dislocate. By the time I slammed to a stop, I was bleeding from a gashed knee and elbow, my cheekbone was throbbing, and pain had exploded in my shoulder.

My torch clattered down beside me. Heaving for breath, I grabbed it and angled its beam up to see the Buzzer above me, ensnared by the branches I had missed. They overhung a final set of steps, steeper than any of the others. I was fortunate not to have broken my neck.

I seized my chance to get my bearings. Another wide road, smooth and tarmacked, stretched ahead of me. Fuelled by the stimulant, I sleeved blood off my chin and made a break for it.

Now I was closing on the Grotta Azzurra, the port of call where the patrol ship had been. Except now I was on my own, and if Scion had left guards there, I would be outnumbered.

I had no choice. If I stopped, the pain and shock of the fall would overwhelm me, and I couldn’t let that happen. The golden cord felt stronger here than it had at the cold spot, and it was pulling me down, like an anchor. I hooked the torch on to my vest and kept running

Behind me, the Buzzer tore free. I was caught in the open, with nowhere to hide. As it gave chase again, moving at twice my speed, I displaced my spirit and sent a wake of pressure through the æther, making the Buzzer release that awful sound, the screams of the people whose spirits it had consumed. I would only be able to keep this up for a moment longer …

And the path ahead had just run out.

I snapped to a halt, staring in fear. There was no way up or forward. Out of options, I unsheathed my dive knife and turned to face the Buzzer, right as it took a terrific swing at me.

My abrupt stop had thrown off its aim. Its arm collided with my side, hurling me not only off the path, but the edge of the cliff. The knife flew from my grasp, and then there was nothing but icy air in my ears, rushing past me. I fell and fell before I crashed into the sea.

For a moment, I thought the drop had killed me. I thought I might be in the æther – drifting, weightless, disembodied.

For a moment, that silence was peaceful.

Then my skin was smarting, and panic hit me with the cold.Here we are again, Underqueen, Suhail Chertan observed.His eyes floated up from the deep.Look how much we have to drink.

I kicked away from him. My head broke the surface, and my breath shot out in thick white smudges.

Drink.

The black sea rolled around me. As I trod water, I tried to focus on the crash of the waves and the taste of salt, to separate this moment from my torture, from the river, from the night I had almost drowned under Paris. Except for my own ragged breaths, I couldn’t hear a thing over the din.

I shook my hair out of my eyes and blinked. My left side was in agony. Reaching for my torch, I shone it upward, revealing the cliffs. I had plummeted a long way, but the Buzzer had thrown me far enough that I had missed the rocks and plunged into deep water.

There had to be a way back up. My body ached, unaccustomed to swimming. As I fought with the sea, splashing back towards land, my torchlight hit the cliff face – and then disappeared. I swashed closer to see a small opening, barely discernible above the waves.

The golden cord was pointing me straight into that darkness.

This had to be the Grotta Azzurra, right where the Scion ship had been spotted. Metal stairs descended from the coastal path, just as Verca had described, ending in a flat platform.

Arcturus really was in the cave. The patrol ship had left him exactly where it had stopped.

I couldn’t stand the thought of going into that pitch-black opening. As the waves shunted me towards it, I tried my best to stay calm. I had a tank of oxygen. I had conquered my fear before, to save my own life. I could do it again for Arcturus. He would do it for me.

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