Page 99 of The Fallen Kingdom

Not who. What.

I stumble back. My mind disconnects from Sorcha’s. Aithinne catches me by the shoulders. “What did you—”

“The Morrigan’s consortisthe Book,” I interrupt. “She’s the damn Book. Those markings all over her must be the spells.”That’s why Lonnrach wanted her. He must have figured out who she was. But without Sorcha’s memory, he wouldn’t have known what he almost had.

The Book is the girl.

Aithinne stares at me. “Well, that’s one way to hide it.”

“No wonder she erased my memory,” Sorcha says, rubbing her temples. “The Morrigan must assume she’s still looking for an object.”

And the girl is still trapped in there with the Morrigan.Find her. We can find her and end this. Finish it.

A part of me feels unhinged. Derrick isn’t on my shoulder to advise me. I don’t have a proper plan. My thoughts are a chaotic mess made worse by my urgency. Each second that ticks by is precious time lost. Each minute. Each hour. We have to do this now.

“What’s your plan?” Aithinne asks.

“Go back, find the girl, and kill the Morrigan.”

“Simple. Effective. Small chance of success.” She smiles. “I like it.”

“Well, I think it’s suicidal,” Sorcha says with a smirk.

“Do you have a better idea?” I ask her.

“I said it was suicidal, not that I had anything better. Once this place starts to go, whatever is left through that portal will go with it. Frankly,suicidalis our only option right now.”

Aithinne glances at the edge of the forest, where the land is breaking off into the dark, endless pit. “We have to go soon. It’s not going to hold. We’ll have to take the humans with us.”

Sorcha’s laugh is sharp. “Humans fighting the Morrigan? That’s not a death risk, that’s a death guarantee.”

“If you’re not going to say anything of use, shut the bloody hell up,” I say. I look at Aithinne. “Find Kiaran, gather the others, and whatever weapons you can find. We’re leaving.”

This time, it takes Sorcha many precious minutes to find the breach between worlds. The one I blew open had moved by the time we began the search.

Unlike when we were in Kiaran’s endless palace, we only have our wee island on which to find a portal into the Morrigan’s prison. Less than a few square miles. As far as I know, this is all that’s left of our world. As it shrinks and falls apart, the portal itself becomes smaller and smaller.

Sorcha brushes her fingers against the trunks as she passes. “It’s tiny,” she says when she finally finds it. “Paper thin.” Her hand presses to the tree harder and she shakes her head. “This had better work. Because the easiest solution is still for Kadamach to put a blade into his sister’s ribs and spare us the trip.”

“She doesn’t help, does she?” Catherine asks.

“She’s here to scheme,” Gavin says. “Not help.”

Kiaran crosses his arms. “And a much better solution would be to cut out your tongue so you can’t speak.”

“So hostile.” Sorcha holds out her hand. “Give me your blade, handsome.”

Sorcha slices the edge of Kiaran’s dagger down her palm and presses her hand to the tree.

Through the portal is the Morrigan’s version of Edinburgh. We’re on Princes Street, the main shopping area in the New Town. The lamps along the thoroughfare are all lit up, but the city is a ghost town. Entirely silent, yet blazing with light. Every window in each building glows by either lamp or candlelight, from the white-columned shops of the New Town to the towering soot-blackened tenements of the Old Town. Even the gardens between the two parts of the city—usually closed up and dark at night—shine with an eerie, twilight glow.

Then I notice there are no stars. There is no moon. No clouds. Just an endless pitch-black sky. A great void of nothing above the shining city.

“My word,” Catherine murmurs.

Gavin steps onto the pavement in disbelief. “I should feel at home, and yet I’m bloody terrified.” He crouches to touch his hand to the cobblestones. “It’s real.”

“The Morrigan has a certain flair for the dramatic, doesn’t she?” Kiaran says dryly.

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