Page 35 of Faeheart
Wild’s grip on my hand tightened. “So Atlas gets to come with us to this magical hideaway?”
“He must,” Professor Blackwood said firmly. “Separating any part of a forming tetrad could be catastrophic for all involved.”
Relief flooded through our connection, not just from Caden but from Atlas as well. I realized with a start that I could feel him now, his steady, protective presence like a warm weight at the edge of my consciousness. How had I not noticed before?
“So, what now?” I asked, trying to regain some sense of control over the situation. “When do we leave?”
“Tonight,” Dean Thornfield said grimly. “The Purity Front’s attacks are escalating. We can’t risk waiting.”
“Tonight?” Wild’s panic surged again. “Just like that? We don’t even get to say goodbye to anyone?”
“There’s no time,” Councilor Ashwick insisted. “Our intelligence suggests they may already be planning their next target. Widdershins could be next.”
“Pack your bags, boys,” Councilor Vael said. “We leave within the hour.”
Chapter 13
Wild
Stepping between the realms was a little like walking through a cold waterfall. But instead of stepping through to the other side, I felt like I was still trapped in that thin sheet of cold that refused to let go of me. For a moment I thought I’d drown, but when I opened my eyes, I found myself in a strange grey void. The cold shifted to my feet, and I realized I was standing in moving water up to my knees, the current drawing me toward some far-off horizon that I couldn’t make out. For some strange reason, I had a bad feeling about it.
“Don’t follow the water,” Councilor Vael said, as if reading my thoughts. “The current will take you to the gate of life and death. If you walk through… there’s no coming back.”
“And we wary of dead spirits trying to get back to the realm of the living,” Councilor Ashwick added. “They like to cling to warm bodies that spend too long in the stream.”
“Are you telling me this is the Veil?” I asked, my fae curiosity getting the better of me. “I always thought it was a sheet or something.”
“This is the Veil,” Councilor Ashwick nodded. “It exists between all realms. Water is the best conductor for spiritualenergy, and it traps the dead to carry them away from the realm of the living when their time comes.”
“This is all very interesting,” Elias said, his teeth already chattering. “But can we get the hell out of here, please? It’s freezing and honestly, it gives me the creeps.”
“Of course,” Councilor Vael said, pointing her staff ahead. “Follow me. The mansion is this way.”
I reached over, taking Elias’s hand instinctively. “Don’t worry,” I said, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll keep you warm.”
The contact sent a wave of heat through both of us, our bond flaring to life even in this strange between-space. Elias’s shivers subsided slightly, though his grip on my hand remained tight.
“How far?” Atlas asked, his werewolf senses clearly on high alert as he scanned the grey expanse around us. His protective instincts were radiating through our tetrad bond so strongly I could taste his unease.
“Not far,” Councilor Vael replied, though her voice seemed to echo strangely in the void. “Time moves differently here. What feels like miles could be mere steps.”
As we began to move through the knee-deep water, following the councilor’s lead, I noticed shapes moving beneath the surface. Pale, reaching hands that grasped at our legs as we passed, faces that appeared and dissolved like smoke in the current.
“Ignore them,” Councilor Ashwick warned as Caden stumbled, nearly pulled off balance by something tugging at his ankle. “They cannot truly harm you, but they will try to convince you otherwise.”
Atlas immediately moved closer to Caden, his arm wrapping protectively around his mate’s waist. The gesture sent a pulse of warmth through all of us via the bond, pushing back some of the oppressive cold.
“There,” Councilor Vael said suddenly, pointing ahead with her staff.
Through the grey mist, I could make out a structure materializing as if it were being painted into existence stroke by stroke. It was magnificent and impossible, a sprawling mansion that seemed to combine architectural elements from every magical realm. Fae spires twisted alongside witch towers, while dryad-grown living walls wound between stone foundations that hummed with werewolf pack magic.
“Welcome,” Councilor Ashwick said with obvious pride, “to Lydia’s sanctuary.”
The mansion grew larger as we approached, defying all logic of perspective. What had seemed like a modest estate from a distance revealed itself to be vast, with wings and levels that seemed to fold in on themselves in ways that made my fae-trained eyes water.
“How is this possible?” Elias breathed, his academic curiosity overriding his discomfort.
“Your grandmother was more powerful than anyone realized,” Councilor Vael explained as we reached what appeared to be a shoreline, the grey water lapping at stones that shifted between obsidian and pearl with each wave. “This place exists in a pocket of reality she carved out herself, anchored to all realms but belonging to none.”
