The anguish of my failure crashed down on me, as heavy as the rocks that had buried Brody. Everything my team and I had worked for, sacrificed for, was gone. And now, Brody was dead. The finality of it drove the air from my lungs.
I hung my head, our losses piercing my breaking heart. My vision blurred as hot tears welled up and spilled over, tracing burning paths along my dust-covered skin. Each salty droplet carved a jagged line through my beating heart. The pain was unbearable, worse than Mom’s death. I hadn’t watched her die, but I had witnessed Brody’s and had been powerless to stop it.
The tears fell freely now, pattering onto the cold stone beneath my feet. In the oppressive silence that had fallen over us, each drop seemed to echo, a tiny sound that somehow magnified our grief. The unyielding chill of the floor seeped through the soles of my worn boots, a counterpoint to the heat of my tears.
Salt crusted my lips as acrid smoke filled my lungs. My shuddering gasps pulled in the musty scent of ancient stone, tainted with the rusty aroma of blood. Mine or another’s, I couldn’t tell. Fear lingered, sharp and bitter on my tongue.
As I stood there, shoulders hunched, I became acutely aware of the backpack I still wore. It felt heavier than ever, laden with our last remaining hopes. The Mirror of Aethereal, the Heartstone amulet, and the dagger—our weapons against the encroaching darkness.
I ran my fingers along the worn straps of the backpack, feeling the rough texture beneath my callused skin. At least Maci hadn’t gotten any of them. The thought was a small comfort, a tiny spark of hope in the vast sea of despair threatening to engulf me.
The mirror, with its swirling, ever-changing surface, was safely wrapped in layers of soft cloth. I could almost feel its energy pulsing, a gentle reminder of the power we still held. The amulet, warm to the touch even through the fabric of the bag, seemed to beat in time with my own racing heart. And the dagger, its blade wickedly sharp and etched with ancient runes, lay silent but ready.
These artifacts were still with us. My tears still flowed, and my body ached from our latest battle, and I couldn’t help but wonder. Would they be enough? With Lisa’s betrayal and the loss we’d suffered, could these relics truly turn the tide?
I lifted my head slowly, blinking away the last of my tears. The others watched me, their faces mirroring my own pain and uncertainty.
Damon returned from the entrance of the cave covered with dust. Zara was slumped against the wall, and he drew her into his arms. Her body shook with silent sobs, her fingers clutching at his torn shirt. The sound of her muffled weeping mingled with the sporadic crackle of shifting pebbles, a haunting melody of grief and loss.
Justice tightened his embrace, his muscular arms enveloping me like a protective shield.
I melted into him, my body trembling against his solid frame. The warmth radiating from his chest seeped into my frozen limbs, battling the bone-deep chill that had taken hold. I inhaled deeply, drinking in his familiar scent, rich leather mingled with earthy sandalwood. It was the scent of home, of safety, and it made my heart constrict painfully in my chest.
A lump formed in my throat, threatening to choke me as the stark reality of our situation seized me.
“We’ve got to get back to the manor and tell the others,” Justice murmured, his lips brushing my ear. His rough, raw voice broke my heart. “All is not lost, Sawyer.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that, and we didn’t have forever. The sands of time were slipping through my fingers. We’d lost Brody. How many more of us would perish? My chest tightened at the thought of losing anyone else.
The wind picked up, bringing a caustic haze and an ominous undercurrent—the coppery stench of violence.
I pulled back slightly, searching Justice’s face. His jaw was clenched tight, a muscle twitching beneath the skin. His eyes, usually a warm honey brown, were dark with grief and determination. The sight of him, weakened yet still fighting, made my heart constrict.
“There’s nothing we can do,” he continued, the words seeming to physically pain him. “Brody’s gone.”
The specter of loss loomed over us, and a surge of panic rose like bile in my throat. Justice was slowly dying, and we’d hoped the Crown would save him. Now, it was gone.
I couldn’t lose him, too. Not after everything we’d been through. The thought of a world without him sent my mind reeling. Images flashed before my eyes of Justice’s smile, his steadfast presence, the warmth of his embrace. Each memory was a knife twisting in my gut, a stark reminder of what I stood to lose.
The grief of Brody’s sacrifice was still raw, a gaping wound that threatened to consume me. And with Justice’s life hanging in the balance, that pain multiplied tenfold. My chest tightened as the magnitude of our failure crashed over me. We had come so close, risked everything, only to have our last hope snatched away.
I gazed at Justice, drinking in every detail of his face. The determined set of his jaw, the fire in his eyes that burned even now. How long before that fire was extinguished? The thought sent a jolt of terror through me, galvanizing my resolve. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. “Justice,” I whispered. “What if the Mirror won’t help us anymore? Maci stole the Crown of Envy. What if that changes everything?”
Justice’s grip on my shoulders tightened. Doubt flickered in his eyes, quickly masked by fierce resolve. But the seed of uncertainty had been planted, and it took root in my own heart.
My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. “This is all my fault,” I choked out, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Justice gently clasped my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. His eyes looked almost black in the dim light. “No, it’s not,” he stated firmly, his thumb brushing away a tear. “We were betrayed.”
Guilt gnawed at my insides like a ravenous beast. All this time, I had suspected Zara. She was new to our group, with her own motives of wanting to restore her Thistlewood coven. But as I watched her cling to Damon, her pain as raw and real as my own, I knew I had been wrong. She had never betrayed us.
A friend had. One I never expected to be our Judas.
The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. I had put my trust in the wrong person. Lisa didn’t care about us. All she cared about was her phoenix and her dog. The memory of her smile,once warm and reassuring, now seemed cold and mocking in my mind’s eye.
My fingernails dug into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks. “How could I have been so stupid?” I whispered, my voice cracking.