Page 93 of Soul of Thorns
My knees buckle, and I barely catch myself.
“Is he alive?” I barely force out of my broken lungs.
“Yes, though he’s had a few close calls these last several hours.”
I swallow. “I need to save him. How do I save him?”
“That is not how it works, shadow fae.”
I shake my head. “I need to know!”
“Ask another question.”
“Where is Darren?”
“Darren is currently making a bargain with the Night Terror.”
My eyes widen. “A bargain?” I breathe.
“An exchange, to be precise. The spell book for your mate’s life.”
This time my knees do buckle, and I slide back to the ground. “Is that wise?”
“That is not the kind of information I hold, shadow fae. I can only tell you what is, not what should be.”
I nod quickly, waving it off. “It was a rhetorical question.”
“I see.”
“What are you?” If the power I’d worked so hard for was information, I’d take all the information I could get.
“An ancient spirit. I was once a powerful being, not unlike the keeper or the Night Bringer and his mate.”
I shiver. “You told me youweren’tlike him.”
“I said I wasoncelike him, and I only mean as a species, not in character. What you are does not define you. Your actions define you. Your choices.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better.
“I am bound to the book, and though his power has been limited, he is free with a living body and power he can use of his own fruition. I have none of those things.”
I shake my head, unable to wrap my mind around all of this. “Show me,” I tell the book, taking the offer he’d mentioned moments ago. I need to know if I’m being manipulated, and this is the only way I can think of to get closer to understanding.
“You simply must touch my binding, and I will show you but an ounce of what I know so as not to break your fragile mind.”
I groan.Wonderful.
Still, I stand back up and step toward the damn talking book. I allow my fingers to gently rest on the thick leather, and immediately, I am transported.
I am blasted with colors, my body soaring through time and place. Images flash through my mind of massive beings walking on the earth. Mountains rising and falling. These beings crush the stone like a pebble beneath their feet.
One being glows bright red, one lapis lazuli, another violet. All glow brightly with power so intense I can’t comprehend it.
“The creator gave these creatures dominion over a land separate from the earth.” The book’s voice echoes through my mind. “And each gave their power to their portion of land. This created the elemental courts as you know them. Adolescent fae take power from the very nature around them. That magic lingers forever and ever, for all time, even once the beings of power have passed. Our wars wiped many of us out. Conflicts with beings from other worlds have banished others. My sister and I volunteered our souls to be cursed to stop others like us who would otherwise have used their power to reign unjustly over the fae we created.”
“Your sister?”
The image of an emerald being as tall as the mountain with thorns sticking out of her limbs flickers into view. “The Wicked Gates.”
