I knew my way around the place, exactly how to find the stairs that would lead me up to the amphitheater, and I slipped into a narrow spiral stairwell. Inwardly, I cursed the people who’d built this tower a thousand feet high. A wildly impractical testament to ego.
I was taking the stairs two at a time, flying through the darkness. Lucky for me, I no longer felt fatigue, or my muscles burning. I hadn’t felt that for eons; I could run forever.
I knew there was only one place they could have taken the Night Elf.
As I ascended, I didn’t pause to savor my freedom. There was only one thing on my mind—getting my soul back. In all the time I’d been locked in here, I had never had a reason to break free. Now, it was everything.
No, maybe there were two things driving me. That dull ember in me wanted to keep her safe, too. Even through my curse, the mating bond glowed.
I rushed up the stairs, smoky shadows whipped around me, concealing me. It didn’t matter, though. No one was around. They were probably all in the stone seats above, salivating over the thought of watching the death of a Night Elf. Rubbing their hands together with glee at her demise.
Anger coiled through me, and I moved even faster, desperate. Was I too late? This place had too many stairs by about a thousand.
If she died, would I feel it?
At last, at the very top of the tower, I slammed through a wooden door, onto the curving walkway that surrounded the amphitheater.
In the shadows above all the others, I stared out over the crowded stone seats. The last time I was here, I’d lost my soul.
This time, I intended to regain it.
Chapter 9
Ali
I stared down at the chasm, certain that I was looking into the Well of Wyrd itself.
The well was one of the few earthly portals to Yggdrasill, the great cosmic tree that bound our world with other realms: those of the elves, the giants, the dwarves, and so on. Only a couple feet of granite and a few inches of stone lip separated me from oblivion.
To fall into the Well of Wyrd would be to fall into an endless void. Eternal isolation. Certain death. Panic slid over my mind. Now would be a good time for an escape.
“Skalei!” The dagger appeared tight in my grip.
Revna raised her wand, readying another freezing spell. But this time, I was ready. As the hex hissed toward me, I ducked, jerking hard on my rope. Now it was enough of a surprise that the guard wasn’t ready, and he stumbled right into the path of the hex.
The spell hit him in the center of his back, and instantly, his body went rigid, hands unclenching from the rope. For a moment, he teetered on the brink of the well, his features fixed in an expression of pure terror. Then he tipped over the edge and disappeared into the depths, silent as the night.
But Revna wasn’t silent. No, she was screaming, trying to charge her wand.
And I was free. Already, I’d flipped Skalei around to slice through the ropes on my wrists. Its magical blade cut through them like a hot knife through butter. All around, the crowd began to shout. Were they scared of me?
Revna certainly was. She was backing away from me, heading for the stairs. I followed after her. I wasn’t sure what I planned, but I did want to take one of her fingers.
But at the bottom of the stairs, I froze. Someone new had arrived—at the top of the amphitheater. There stood the shadowy prisoner, silhouetted against the moon. Ah, so that was why they were terrified.
Thick black smoke rose from his body and a low, primal moan emanated from his chest, rumbling over the stone. Screams erupted around us, and the High Elves began surging away from him. Revna ran toward her father. King Gorm drew his wand.
And yet the prisoner’s eyes were on me. With magic curling around his beautiful face, he began to move down the steps of the amphitheater. He seemed to be coming for me. Another person who wanted me dead, I thought. I had no idea what he was, only that he scared the living shit out of everyone around me, so I’d best keep my distance.
“Everyone stop moving,” King Gorm shouted. “Revna, show him the ring!”
Realization flashed across Revna’s face. Dropping her wand, she held up the bloody ring.
“Marroc!” shouted the king. “We have your soul. Another step, and you’ll be cursed forever.”
The prisoner stopped where he was, midway down the steps. Black magic coiled off him as he stared at King Gorm, his eyes now dark as the Well of Wyrd. He didn’t speak, and I had no idea what he wanted… but he seemed intent on me.
It was as if the whole Citadel held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. No one moved—except me. While they were all staring at the prisoner, I was slipping off my boot. The vergr crystal lay inside it.
Then, silently, the prisoner started moving down the steps once more.
“I’ll end this now!” Revna spun and hurled the ring into the Well of Wyrd.
It twirled in the air, gleaming in the moonlight, then plunged into the darkness.
The prisoner was nearly upon me when I reared back and threw my boot with all my might, aiming for the far side of the well. I had good aim and a strong arm, and it landed in the stone seats opposite us.
“Fara!”
A flash of purple light, and I exploded out of my own boot on the far side of the well, bits of shoe leather raining around me. The vergr crystal lay at my feet, and I snatched it up.
In the seats all around the amphitheater, chaos reigned. Around me, High Elves streamed up the stairs, oblivious to my presence, focused only on getting as far from the prisoner as possible. I turned back to look at him—towering over the others like a god of darkness. He picked up a High Elf and threw him into the Well of Wyrd. Then his dark eyes were on me again.
I whirled, racing up the steps of the amphitheater, trailing behind the others. My thighs burned, lungs heaving as I chased the throng of High Elves. No one was looking at me. They were all running for their lives, and I was at the back of the crowd.
What the fuck was that guy?
By the time I reached the top of the stairs, my bootless right foot was frozen. But I kept running, turning onto the curving stone walkway. At this point, I was just following the others, racing behind them. I kicked my remaining boot off and ran in my socks, which was cold as shit but less awkward for running.
I was sprinting so fast that I nearly missed the shadow of a moth passing over me. I glanced up just in time to see its rider launch a hex at my head. Diving to the side, I took shelter behind a parapet for a moment. When the spell bounced off the stone, I leapt to my feet again.
The elves ahead of me were running for a door in one of the spires, holding it open for each other. I wasn’t exactly sure what I’d do when I got inside, but maybe I’d blend into the chaos, make my escape from the lower floors.
But just as I reached the door, it slammed shut before me. My heart sank as I heard a bolt sliding across.
With my pulse racing out of control, I pulled on the door’s handle. Locked up tight.
Could I use the vergr crystal here? I turned, heaving for breath as I peered over the walkway. Clouds puffed around me, and the lights of Boston glimmered welcomingly a thousand feet below.
It was just as I’d thought—far too high to toss the crystal. A vergr crystal might allow me to travel any distance in an instant, but the crystal itself wasn’t indestructible. While fifty feet would hardly scratch it, a thousand-foot drop would shatter it to smithereens.