Page 128 of The Beast King's Bride

“Yes, Ash, it is. But you never know what you may find on the other side.”

We both stand by the well, looking down into its cold depths. A scent of wet stone and moss drifts up, underlain with a stench of rot, like the Decay.

The land of Faerie is sick but I’m crossing over for one of its kings. He is all I care about. If I can’t save him, the rest of the world can rot away for all I care.

“Ready?” I lift the ring and it catches the light—I don’t know from where, we’re inside, under the small structure built over the well, and yet it seems to glow, the blue gem with the engraved tyger sparkling. “Here goes. Take us to Lindar.”

I open my hand and the ring drops, a falling star, rolling into absolute darkness, not hitting the walls, just falling and falling until it vanishes in the depths.

“Holy Gods,” Pete whispers.

We climb on the lip of the well and I nod at him. He takes my hand. I squeeze his cold fingers.

“Well, Ash,” he says, “it was a pleasure knowing you. Just in case this thing goes sideways.”

“Shut up and jump,” I tell him.

“Always so good with words,” he mutters.

And then it’s dark and we’re falling after the ring, falling to the other side of the world.

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