Page 36 of Golden Star

Now, my hands are numb from the cold, but I grit my teeth and keep going, just like I did back then.

Finally, I reach the highest branch that seems remotely stable.

But Riven’s window is farther away than I’d hoped. Too far to jump without breaking my neck and dying forrealthis time.

Of course, the fae wouldn’t make it that easy to break into the prince’s chambers. I should have known better. I was just so desperate, and so hopeful.

And catching his gaze might be even less possible than jumping through his window, because he’s on his bed, reading, oblivious to anything that might be lurking outside.

I glance down at Ghost, who’s still watching me from the base of the tree. His eyes are locked on mine, as if silently encouraging me to keep trying.

I attempt to teleport again.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work.

Zoey’s face flashes through my mind, her lips blue, her body slumped in that freezing cell, so close to death. If I don’t figure this out, I’ll lose her.

There has to be a solution here. Ghost seems to believe in me, which means I need to have better belief in myself.

I think back through everything that’s happened since the first time I entered the fae realm, stopping at the memory of running from the Wendigo. I made that impossible leap with Zoey over the fallen trees. Iremember the rush of air beneath my feet, as if something unseen had carried me across.

Did I harness humidity with my water magic to propel us forward?

Maybe.

But I don’t have anything long enough to gain the momentum I had then. All I have is the length of the branch.

Which means the branch will have to be enough.

Without giving myself time to second-guess the plan, I take off, sprinting along the length of the branch. Every step feels light, and I spring off the edge, pushing my magic into the air, coaxing it to propel me forward like it did when I leaped over those trees.

I’m weightless.

Everything else around me disappears—the palace, the cold night, the ground far below… all of it.

There’s only me and the open window, getting closer with every heartbeat.

I’m doing it.

I’m flying.

Well, maybe notflying.But it sure feels close.

Everything speeds up again as I soar through the window and land hard on the floor of Riven’s room, somehow staying on my feet as I do.

He grabs the sword lying on his bedside table, springs at me, and thrusts it through my chest.

I brace myself for the pain—for my final moment. I’ve survived a lot, but there’s no way I can survive a blade through my heart.

Instead, the sword passes through me, like I’m not there at all.

Riven stumbles, thrown off balance by the lack of resistance, confusion flashing across his face.

“What the—?” His gaze snaps to the sword, back to me, then back to his sword again.

I have no answer. I just glance down at where the blade should be lodged inside my chest, finding no wound. No blood.

Impossible.

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