Page 177 of Crown of Darkness
“You do realize it’s freezing,” I growl, dumping the shield with pleasure. “You could have realized this flaw in the plan before I removed my nice warm coat.” I strip out of the black leathers and haul my own clothes on again.
“And now we just need some fog,” Thiago whispers, staring at the valley. “Vi, can you see through our fetch’s eyes?”
It makes my skin creep every time I try, but I need to know what’s happening inside the keep. Grimm promised that no harm would come to Amaya until night falls—and the Black Keep is much further west than Old Mother Hibbert’s cottage was. Though the sun is slinking toward the horizon, the moon hasn’t bared her shimmering face yet.
Taking a deep breath, I slip the bracelet off and reach for the fetch that’s bound to me.
—chanting echoes through an enormous hall,and unseelie sway as they call for their dark god to rise. A little girl yanks at her chains, her teeth bared in fury as I step between the stones of the Hallow—
I pull back and slam the bracelet on so that the fetch won’t sense me. “She’s alive.”
Just scared and desperate.
“How soon can you call in that fog?”
“Give me twenty minutes,” Thiago murmurs, his eyes distant as he stares across the gulf between us and the Black Keep. “Anything faster will draw attention.”
I pace the ledge.
It surprises me how beautiful it is up here.
Despite the snow and the sheared-off mountains in the background, there’s a purity to the world that makes my chest hurt. Ever since I bound myself to Evernight, I’ve been able to feel the land breathing beneath my feet, and though we’re a long way from home, there’s something stirring beneath me.
I reach down and stir the snow away from the ground with a wisp of wind before placing my palm flat on the ground.
Somewhere beneath the castle the earth bucks and twists…. It feels like the land is screaming, like it’s trying to force solid stone to become diamond.
And then I find that pressure point.
“Who are you?” asks a little voice.
I rip my palm away.
And realize Grimm is watching me.
“You can hear her,” he murmurs. “She’s always been gifted. She’s always been drawn to the land. She is a natural queen who will rule this world if she’s given the chance.”
I slowly press my palm back to the rock. I don’t dare reply—I don’t know who else is listening, or if they even can.
But I don’t want her to feel alone.
“Amaya?” I breathe.
There’s a sense of stillness as if she’s listening to me. Wondering, perhaps.
“I am someone who loves you very much,” I whisper, and I can sense her reaching for that thread of thought.
Somewhere inside that keep, my daughter stirs and places her palm flat on the stone beneath her, the chains jangling around her wrist.
And I gasp as I feel our palms touch.
“You’re like me,” she whispers.
I close my eyes and curl my fingers through hers. “I’m like you.” I want to tell her that I’m coming for her, but I don’t dare, just in case someone else hears. All I can give her is this…. “You’re not alone. You will never be alone.”
“I’m so frightened.”
“Be brave.” I squeeze her little hand, sending all my love down the bond between us.
