Page 65 of Torn Ivy
Tate backhands the laser gun out of Cathy’s hand. “No.”
“Easy,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We need to try something.”
“It can’t get any worse,” Torin mutters.
I glare at him. “Will you fucking shut up?”
“What? There is no point sugarcoating this. It’s fucked. Everything is fucked!” He turns away and moves to the window to stare out of it into the night sky.
As I stare at Ivy, ignoring Tate and Cathy arguing, I see a flicker of very recognisable magick under Ivy’s skin.
“Fae,” I murmur. “What do you want?”
Narrowing my eyes, I stare at it. It slithers out and aims for me, wrapping itself around me.
With a grunt of surprise, I’m yanked out of this realm and thrust directly in front of the King and Queen of the Dark Fae in their throne room back at home, toppling over and hitting my knees painfully on the floor at their feet.
“Welcome home, son,” Dad says brightly, a big beam of what can only be described as amusement on his face.
I stagger to my feet, disoriented by the sudden shift in reality. The familiar opulence of the Dark Fae throne room surrounds me, a stark contrast to the chaos I just left behind.
“What the fuck?” I growl, glaring at my parents. “You couldn’t have sent an invitation?”
Mum raises an eyebrow, her expression full of amusement and disapproval. “Language, darling. And we did try more conventional methods. You’ve been ignoring our summons.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” I snap. “In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a cosmic war brewing in the supernatural realm.”
Dad waves his hand dismissively. “Supe problems. We have more pressing matters to discuss.”
I feel my temper rising. “More pressing than veils being torn apart?” I nearly add,Than Ivy being scattered across dimensions?But think better of it.
“The Hammond witch,” Mum says, waving her hand dismissively. “That’s why we’ve brought you here.”
I narrow my eyes. “What do you know about her?”
Dad stands, his imposing figure radiating power. “We know that she represents a convergence point of ancient magicks. A nexus of chaos and order that could reshape existence itself.”
“Yeah, well, she’s currently reshaping existence by being torn apart molecule by molecule,” I growl. “So, unless you have something that can help me save her, I’m going.”
“This magick of hers is Ancient Fae. You know that, right?”
“What of it? It’s not helping her.”
“Not helping her?” Dad laughs, the sound echoing unnaturally through the throne room. “My dear boy, it’s the only thing keeping her from being completely unmade, right now.”
I freeze, hope and suspicion warring within me. “What do you mean?”
Mum stands, her gown shimmering like a starry night as she descends the dais. “It is clinging to her. A lifeline for her, of sorts.”
“But Ivy’s not Fae.”
“No,” Dad agrees. “But her bloodline was engineered to channel Fae magick. To harness chaos in ways even we cannot fully comprehend.”
My mind reels with the implications. “So, you’re saying...”
“That the very thing tearing her apart is also what’s keeping her together,” Mum finishes. “The Ancient Fae magick is both poison and antidote.”
“How do we fix her?” I demand. “How do we bring her back?”
