Page 165 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“The scrolls,” I say, remembering Alfie’s fixation. “Does anyone have one?”
Geraldine produces a scroll from her sodden pocket, carefully unrolling it beside a patch of glowing moss. Max leans in, his eyes widening. “It’s a map of Nocturna—the Subterranean,” he says, voice hushed with awe. “But it’s . . . It’s Avorlorna in reverse.”
I peer at the parchment, my breath catching as I take in the familiar yet alien landscape. A sinister structure labeled “Court of Nightmares” looms where the Court of Dreams should be. The Nexus has been replaced by something called “The Schism.”
“I assumed the Subterranean would be tunnels or something,” I say. “I’ve never seen something like this before.”
“Maybe this is where the Folk slumbered for all those years,” Geraldine suggests.
As we watch, the map comes to life, glowing faintly. A pulsing dot shows our location—inside the Schism—a line snakes across the parchment, leading to a spot marked with an X.
“That must be the treasure we’re supposed to steal,” Heath says, then points at another symbol—a second watergate. “That’s our ticket back to the Nexus and safety.”
But something nags at me.
“Alfie ran in the opposite direction.” I point towards the tunnel he disappeared down. “Towards the Court of Nightmares.”
A heated debate breaks out among the exhibitors. Some argue we should follow the map to the treasure, while others insist we need to investigate why Alfie had different information. The underlying current of fear is visceral—no one wants to venture deeper into enemy territory if they don’t have to. Heath pointed out the watergate is just after the X.
“Willow,” Geraldine says softly, her eyes meeting mine. “What will you wish for if you win?”
I hesitate, acutely aware of the resonance stones broadcasting our every word. I can’t voice my desire to rescue Fox, not with all of Avorlorna listening. Instead, I deflect. “What about you?”
“Your magic,” she replies without hesitation. “You should wish for your magic back.”
Her words trigger a memory—Alfie’s cryptic statement about seeing “Her” in the Subterranean. A chill runs down my spine as a terrifying thought occurs to me. “What if Titania is down here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if she’s in a dreamscape down here? How much do we know about her slumber?”
Before anyone can respond, a bone-chilling shriek echoes through the cavern. Horror dawns on us all simultaneously—if we fell through the watergate, so did the Nightmares from the arena. An exhibitor breaks free from our group and runs for the pool.
“Wait!” I shout, but it’s too late. Something darts out from the shadows and snags his ankle, dragging him, clawing, and screaming into the water.
“We can’t go back the way we came,” I say, my mind racing. “We need to move. Now.”
We run, splashing and inhuman growls spurring us on—a flash of light in my periphery. I spin, slicing with my sword—it cuts through something gelatinous that explodes in a slime shower. Damn, this sword is good. I’ll have to thank Bodin again. Each splat emits a dark, inky blot that floats upward toward the cavernous ceiling.
Shit. Blots.
I glance over my shoulder. Exhibitors bottleneck at the narrow tunnel. More shadows move in the cavern. I hear a clicking—like those spider things. We’re out of time. There’s only one choice left.
I turn to Geraldine and Max, my heart heavy. “Lead the others out,” I say, my hand moving to the charm hiding my pheromones. “I’ll lure the Nightmares in the opposite direction.”
Geraldine’s eyes widen in protest. “No, Willow. You can’t?—”
“Maybe I’ll be lucky and catch up with Alfie before they reach me.”
“It should be you finding the treasure,” she insists, her voice breaking. “You’ve lost so much already. Don’t sacrifice yourself for us.”
I manage a smile, touched by her concern. “Maybe this is where I’m meant to be,” I tell her, conviction growing with each word. “You’ll make the right wish.”
Before she can argue further, I rip off the charm. The effect is immediate—my scent, amplified by my heat, fills the air. The Nightmares’ shrieks take on a hungry edge, just like in the stables with Emrys.
“Go!” I yell, already sprinting down the tunnel Alfie disappeared into. I don’t look back. The pounding of my heart is matched only by the thunderous footfalls of the Terrors as they give chase, drawn inexorably to my intoxicating scent.
The others will be safe. Triumph surges until I realize the bioluminescence is fading, and I plunge deeper into darkness. I hope I haven’t made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 68
Willow
