“Animals like me,” she says, as if that explains everything.
It doesn’t.
Sweat beads across her brow as she murmurs words in the ancient Bloodstone tongue. The fish glows, its scales shimmering in iridescent colors as it shifts to two writhing serpents. She chants louder and louder, and a blue portal bursts from the serpents.
I grab Everly’s arm before she can step into the portal. “Tie yourself to me this time.”
She nods and follows my request, wrapping her belt around our waists.
The portal beckons us, its beauty almost blinding. We step closer—together, side-by-side. Together, walking into the unknown. Together, hoping and believing this portal will lead us to where we want to go.
ChapterEight
The thick, putrid smell of sulfur assaults me as I struggle to take in my surroundings. I cough and choke, needing to breathe, to adjust to whatever this place is.
It cannot be Kyanite land.
I dart my eyes around, taking in the landscape. It’s vast with red sand, no trees, and an endless supply of ash.
Everly straightens next to me and speaks in a hoarse whisper. “It’s gone.”
“What?” I ask between coughs.
“The bloodstone marble.” Her bottom lip trembles as she continues. “It’s gone.”
Horror slams into me as I drop to my knees and run my hands over the arid ground, my movements quick, frantic. I refuse to accept that it has vanished. It has to be here somewhere. It has to be.
Everly tugs on my arm, urging me to get up. “It wasn’t in my hand after we went through the portal.”
“What happened to it?”
“I do not know.” Her face pales as she shoves back her unruly curls and jerks her gaze around. “This isn’t Kyanite land, is it?”
“It’s far from it.” The truth shatters inside me, breaking the part of me that longed to renew, that naively thought everything would change now that Everly and I are back together.
Ash falls around us as we move forward, and a village appears through the intense wall of smoke. Flames leap from the cottages and buildings, and desperate cries slice through the air.
Save them.
Save them now!
I follow that urge, that longing to help, to protect, to take away these people’s agony. It doesn’t matter that they’re strangers. They need me.
My heart roars in my ears as I run toward the nearest cottage and kick open the door. Smoke blurs my vision as I search for any sign of life. In the far corner, I make out the shapes of a woman and two small children huddled behind a large, dark object. Their sobs drive me further into the dwelling.
“Hurry,” I shout over the roar of the fire and wave both of my arms. “Follow me.”
“I can’t,” the woman cries. “My leg.”
Heat singes my skin, waiting to devour me as I move closer, and I see her leg pinned beneath an armoire that’s lying on its side.
“Please, take them,” she pleads, pushing her young children toward me.
Instead, I put all my weight into the side of the heavy piece of furniture. She helps push with her other leg, and we manage to free her.
I place my arm under her shoulders and around her back. With my other arm, I lift the tiny girl onto my hip. The woman does the same with the young boy. Together, we hobble as fast as we can out of the cottage.
As soon as we escape from their burning home, I set the child down and bend over, coughing. The woman takes her daughter’s hand, gives me a hasty but sincere thank you, and the three of them limp toward the outskirts of the village.
