Page 104 of Frost Like Night
Sir shakes his head. “He’ll take care of things for us.”
I don’t have time to argue. I bury my face into Mather, tighten my fingers on Sir, and send us spiraling for the entrance to the chasm, leaving Theron and my city in the nothingness of the blizzard.
31
Meira
TORCHES ILLUMINATE Aroom that looks just as I remember it—the diamond-patterned floor; the moist condensation of magic in the air; the door with its elaborate carvings a few paces behind where I put us, just toward the front of the room beside the invisible barrier, our first obstacle to reaching the chasm.
The last time I was here, the world was a completely different place. Theron was with me, my ally instead of my enemy; I stood in front of this door with awe and apprehension, not determination and resolve.
The biggest difference now, though, is the soldiers who wait for us along the front wall.
I rip out my chakram and let it fly.
My blade is covered with blood before Mather and Sir have even oriented themselves in the room, a wave of magic again clearing their bodies of the effects of travel. Theyturn, join the fight, and in seconds the Cordellans are dead, their bodies flooding the diamond-shaped carvings in the floor with thick scarlet rivers.
I sheathe my weapon and stomp toward the looming door, hands balled, eyes level.
Fingers grab my arm. “Meira, wait—”
“Don’t,” I snap, unable to look at Mather. “If I stop to think, I’ll fall apart. Please, Mather.”
I can’t think about Theron’s desires or Ceridwen and Caspar fighting my war or Conall and Nikoletta back at camp or Rares and Oana—snow, what are they even doing? Have they succeeded in gathering support? Did something happen to them?
Mather holds, grip softening.
“All right. How do we get in?”
I scrub at my eyes and reel to the door. “Together.”
Sir falls in on my other side, and where his silence would usually send me into a spiral of frustration, I’m unendingly grateful for it now.
The three of us line up, facing the door.
“Remember,” I whisper, “we have to be united in our desire to reach the chasm.”
Mather takes my hand, weaving our fingers together, and squeezes. “We’re with you.”
Sir takes my hand too. “To the end,” he says. That’s all. Nomy queen—just his support.
I know, then, that I made the right decision. There’s noone else I’d rather have with me.
We start walking, taking slow, deliberate steps across the room. Each draws us closer to the barrier, and I hold my breath, my body remembering the horrid sensation of the barrier shredding my nerves.
I fight to keep from wincing as we cross the middle of the room, the invisible barrier. But we keep walking, with no obstacles or pain, and the moment we pass, every particle of air seems to take a collective breath. The density of magic takes on a new aura—where it had felt present yet still, humidity choking the air with power, it sparks against my skin now, tiny bursts of alertness that flood me with an undeniable sense of purpose.
The labyrinth wants us here—themagicwants us here.
Maybe the whole time Primoria wanted to rediscover the magic chasm, the chasm wanted to be rediscovered itself.
We stop just before the door. Mather shivers next to me. “This is . . . incredible.”
Sir echoes his wonder with a breathy snort. “Now what?”
Always the pragmatist. I release their hands and slide forward another cautious step. The door stands a few paces away, but there’s no knob that I can see, just those keyholes in the carvings of vines, books, and masks near the symbol of the Order of the Lustrate in the center.
I take the keys off the chain around my neck and hand one to Sir, one to Mather. They approach the keyholes on either side of the one I pick and lift their keys.
