Page 7 of Fallen Star
For now, my feast on that dark angel is still satiating me. But what’s going to happen when I’m hungry again? When I need fresh meat—or worse, fresh blood?
I don’t want to think about it.
I can’t.
As it is now, I need help.
And there’s only one person who knows where to find me.
My hands shake as I pull the whisper stone from my pocket. It doesn’t hum like it does when Riven’s holding the stone connected to mine, but I have to try.
“Riven?” My voice echoes through the cave, making me feel more alone than I already did. “I’m in the cave. I followed your directions. Zoey’s hurt. She’s burning up, and I don’t know what to do.”
Silence answers.
The stone remains flat and lifeless.
I tighten my grip around it, desperation clawing at my chest.
“Riven, please,” I beg. “We were being chased—there was a dark angel, and a branch monster, and a shadow monster. They would have killed us if I hadn’t…”
The memory of the dark angel flashes through my mind, and my throat tightens. His seductive eyes, and the way his blood tasted, rich and intoxicating.
“If I hadn’t stopped him,” I say instead.
Nothing.
I bring the stone closer to my lips, as if it can somehow amplify my voice. Make him hear me, even though he’s clearly not holding onto his stone.
“Zoey’s dying,” I tell him, hot tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to save her.”
The stone stays cold and silent.
Anger bubbles inside me, hot and suffocating.
“Did you send us here to die?” I snap, resisting the urge to throw the stupid stone at the wall. “Was this a trap? Get me out of Winter Court territory and let the Wandering Wilds finish the job?”
As expected, there’s no answer.
I sink down to the ground beside Zoey, cradling the stone in both hands.
This isn’t working. And it’s not like a phone that I can reboot and try again.
Nothing I do willmakeit work.
I’m powerless. I have more magic than is supposed to be possible, and yet, I’m trapped, scared, and powerless.
“I trusted you,” I say, even though Riven’s obviously not listening. “I came here because you said it was the only way.”
The tears threaten to emerge, and I press my palm against my eyes, willing them away.
Crying won’t help.
Meanwhile, Zoey’s blood is creeping farther across the bandage with every passing minute.
Suddenly, as I gaze down at her, I remember—the amulet of warmth. The one Riven gave her in the tent before our first trial.
She was cold then. But she’s burning up now. Her fever needs to break.
