Page 82 of Prince of Ruin

He strokes his talon over my cheek, wiping away a runaway tear that I didn’t realize I was shedding, and that furrow between his brows deepens.

“He’s not so terrible, Clav. He had reasons for how he behaved. Maybe you’ll understand them if you become fae again.”

Hopefully Wolfsbane or Ash will end me before I even get to that point.

“If I die tonight,” I whisper. “Please make peace with Tarsus.”

His snout crinkles.

“And,” I add, “don’t lay a gods-damned finger on Aden.”

His brows raise. “If you’re unable to stop Mother Terra, then Aden’s sacrifice is the only thing that could save us. Otherwise you’ll lose all of us, including Tarsus.” His brows push together, his lips curling over those white fangs. “If you don’t want me to touch your little human toy, then you’d better convince Mother Terra to end her demands for human blood. Fuck her, if you need to. Eat out her rotted, root-infested cunt. Because if you don’t succeed,Clavicle, Aden will be her next meal, and you and I both know he’ll leap in on his own accord, no force necessary from anyone.”

A chill spider-walks down my spine. He’s right, of course. Aden would sacrifice himself for all Five Empires before he’d let Mother Terra destroy them.

“Follow the path,” Abaddon growls, jerking his chin down the narrow ledge that runs along the river of lava. “You’ll come to a dead end, a clearing. Like a little nook in the face of the cliff side. That’s the deepest part of the mountain you could reach.” His eyes meet mine. “But to reach a goddess, you must also enter the spirit world.”

I blink several times. “Excuse me?” I’m not exactly religious, despite both my parents being on extreme sides of the religious spectrum.

“You’ll calm your mind through meditation. Surely Mandi taught you how to spirit journey.”

She did when I was very young. It was a fun exercise we did together, one of the few things we bonded over. I’d spirit journey to large, sun-kissed snow-capped mountains that seemed to be humming as they sloped down into the cobalt river weaving a path in the valley. Above, large birds flew overhead.

But as the memory hits me, I realize the place I’d spirit-journeyed to was…here. Not inside the volcano, but outside of it, before its peaks were charred black and smoke blocked out the sun. And the birds above…they’d always seemed larger than life. Almost a monstrous size, their wings like bats.

I draw in a sharp breath and glance at Abaddon. I’d spirit-journeyed here as a child. To these realms. Somehow, my spirit was able to transcend the walls that separated our world from theirs. I often thought it was just my imagination, but now I realize…it was all real.

“Now go.” He stares at me a beat longer, and its clear in his eyes that he’s worried for me. “I’ll see you again, Clavicle.”

His promise seems to be more of a reassurance to me. To him. But I nod, and offering him one more glance, I turn and begin my journey down the narrow ledge that goes down, down, down toward the red-orange river of lava glowing below.

It seems to take forever to reach the clearing Abaddon was talking about. The heat from the lava river rises up to meet me, the scent of sulfur growing thicker, threatening to choke me. The path, too, seems to grow narrower, until I’m almost convinced Abaddon sent me down the wrong path.

But I find it. A small nook, just as Abaddon described it. It looks like a fire was built here not too long ago, but now it’s nothing but a pile of charred branches. There are two small stone boulders on either side of the fire, so I take a seat on one. My heart ispounding. My forehead prickles with sweat. It’s hot down here, what, with lava just thirty feet below.

Focus.

I’ve watched Mandi spirit journey often enough that even if she’d never taught me, I’d know how to do it. Crossing my legs on the boulder, I rest my hands on my knees, close my eyes, and inhale a breath of sulfur and steam. Slowly releasing it, I release all my worries, my doubts, my fears.

And inhale again.

Mandi usually uses a bodhrán to get there. The steady beat of the drum is like crack to the busy brain. So I pat my hands against my knees and focus on the steady beat. Worrying about how long it takes to start the journey only makes it take longer, so I focus, focus, focus on the beat of my hands and nothing more.

Visions begin playing behind my lids. I’m a child again, walking through the field outside the Skull Palace. The sun is shining in a way I haven’t seen it in this realm, due to the volcano smoke and ash constantly hanging in the air. The fields span across rolling hills, blooming with clover flowers. The scent of spring and fresh dirt after a rain fills my senses.

I don’t seem to have a care in the world as I race through the fields. But when I turn around and spot the Skull Palace behind me, dread forms a fist in my stomach. The palace, to my child self, is filled with darkness and fear. It’s a place I must return to everynight, as a prince, but a place that terrifies the hell out of me. A place where an abusive father takes his anger out on his son, where a mother sits in her chair reading a book, not caring that her son is crunched into a ball on the floor while his father kicks him in the ribs.

Father storms across the room, shovels up hot embers from the fire, then marches back and throws them onto my frail body. Searing hot pain explodes across my skin, blinding me. Still, mother doesn’t even look up from her book.

Maybe mother was too sick to step in. Maybe she was afraid that if she stepped in, he would kill us both. Or maybe she truly didn’t care.

My dream blurs, time passes, and soon, I’m back in the field of clovers, far outside the palace walls. I’m running, the wind blowing through my shaggy hair, the shadow before me depicting an older kid with youth antlers. This time when I turn around, the palace doesn’t seem so bad. It’s still a looming tower of darkness and fear, but standing in front of it is a teen who I’d lay down my life for.

Their long white locks whip in the wind, their antlers like mine—polished and fine—poking through their blanket of long white hair. They wear flowing amethyst robes that tug at their lean body. Their silver eyes are filled with love when they look at me. A love I’d never encountered from anyone until I met them.

The palace looms behind them, terrifying and cold, but their eyes beckon me and tell me everything is going to be okay. It will all work out according to the universe’s will. I step toward them, try to run to them, but the wind is strong, whipping at my body and pulling me back. I try to shout their name, but my voice is carried away in the wind.

Then there’s darkness.

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