Page 151 of Kingdoms of Night

Her eyes adjusted slowly to this place, her chest and shoulders still tight. There wasn’t much to see. Just a narrow stone hall.

She pushed herself up slowly. The earth was far from her. So far away that she had no chance of calling out to anything that might grow. Not unless it turned out there was some sort of growth here in this stone tomb. No food in her pockets either. And her bag was with Puck.

Groaning inwardly, she held her face. Why hadn’t she thought this through? She’d been out of sorts since last night.

Where was Feron, though? Could she just not see him? Everything seemed dark and hazy, but he could be just out of her range of sight. So could something terrifying. Or cruel. Maybe Puck had thrown her in here because he’d already thrown Feron in.

She listened for a second longer, her heart racing faster. It didn’t take much for her to start imagining terrifying things.

“Feron,” she called out softly. “Feron, are you here? Are you all right?”

Silence answered, as cold and stony as the rocks that surrounded her.

A pit formed in her stomach. He wasn’t here. What did that mean? Was it because they were in the castle? Because he was dead? Because they weren’t actually a perfect match? Two of those were better than the one. Anything was better than him being dead!

She placed her hand on the wall. “Feron, please, if you’re out there, answer me.”

Her voice echoed back to her, pathetic in its need. Where was he? She prayed he was all right. He had to be. Even if he wasn’t there. He had to be all right. But something had happened.

She walked slowly down the hall. No matter how cautiously she moved, her footsteps echoed and her heart raced. Her own breaths thundered in her ears. But it was only her breaths. There was nothing else. Nothing except gray darkness in a single hall that looked as if it went on forever.

Pressure formed at the back of her eyes with each step.

Nothing. And nothing. Nothing!

The chill intensified. She broke into a run. The passage continued to expand, never changing in color or shape or anything. She ran until she was breathless and a stitch formed in her side. How big was this place?

The weight of it all crushed in upon her. At last, after minutes or hours or who knew how long, she collapsed against the wall, wishing more than anything she could just speak to him one more time.

“Feron,” she whispered. “Feron, I don’t know where you are, but I need you here. Now. There are so many things we need to talk about, but most importantly I need you to be all right. And once I know you are, I—I—” She dashed her tears away and searched the length and the breadth of the hallway with her eyes. “Being without you is so much worse than being with you and angry with you. And maybe you will think I’m weak and emotional and all of that. And I am all those things. I was just so afraid.”

A thousand more words swelled within her. All the things she wanted to say. He had seemed hurt. Confused. Eager still to please, even while insisting he’d needed to be alone. She could have explained why she’d felt the way she had. Asked him more about what he’d felt and why. And—she hid her face in her hands.

She missed him. Truly and fully. And if she never saw him again—

Two heavy claps sounded, like great stones struck together.

She lowered her hands, then froze. The hall had changed. Another hall had opened up directly in front of her, one lined with doors of all sorts. And at the end of the hall, a soft golden light glowed. Music floated on the air along with the light sounds of mirth and amusement.

People! Maybe they knew where Feron was. Maybe he was even with them!

As she ran to the edge of the hall, it all became so much lovelier the closer she came. But whatever details and elements there were, the golden doorway held her focus, calling to her as she ran faster and faster. Some sort of celebration was happening here. A party of some sort. They were all dressed up and wearing elegant silks and velvets, their attention focused entirely on one another or whatever amusement was at hand. Some had wings of feathers or leather, many had tattoos that pulsed and swayed to the music, and most had ugly glittering masks, though only a few wore them.

She bolted inside and grabbed the first attendant by the arm. “Excuse me,” she said. “I need your help. I’m looking for a werewolf man who is about this tall and has ash-blond hair. His name is Feron. Have you seen him?”

The attendant glided right by, her hands slipping off his charcoal sleeve as easily as if she hadn’t even touched him.

“Hey!” she shouted after him.

Blinking, she realized that she was getting a little light headed. The music swelled, filling her ears and her mind, offering to carry her away.

She stepped back, then swayed.

Oh. It was going to carry her away whether she accepted or not. Wavering on unsteady feet, she drew in another perfumed breath. The world spun a little faster.

She lifted her hand as she tried to signal another attendant, then stopped short as something sparkled on her hand. Rings. Elegant white gold rings with opals, pearls, and garnets. What—she halted as she looked down.

What had happened to her clothes?

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