Kull spoke up. “But won’t he try to kill her?”
“Yes. Unless Olive destroys him first.”
“Is it possible? Can he die?”
“I do not know.”
“We killed the beast in the unicorn forest,” Heidel said, “so he must be capable of some sort of death. Olive, I don’t like this. It is clearly a trap, and I can only imagine what the monster will do to you once you find him.”
“She will not go,” Kull said. “We will find a way for us all to go, or we will not enter at all.”
The fairy princess spoke up. “But what of our stone?” she asked. “The creature cannot cross through the portal without Olive’s help, but that does not mean that he won’t send the stone through.”
“Is it possible for him to do such a thing?” Kull asked.
I mulled it over. “Yes. Portals operate with a basic set of principles—one of them being that sending non-organic objects through them is much easier than sending a person through. If the bloodthorn is intent on seeing the stone in his own world, then he may be desperate enough to send it through without actually crossing through the portal himself.”
“Would he do that?” one of the elves asked.
“Yes,” Terminus answered. “He used the unicorn stone as a power source for a machine in his world. I am not sure of the details, but he seeks to use the fairies’ stone as well.”
“A machine?” I asked.
Terminus nodded. “Yes. It is used as a power source, but I know nothing more than that.”
“And that is why he took our stones?” the princess asked. “To power a machine?”
I couldn’t mistake the hostility in her voice.
He didn’t meet his sister’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Whatever the case,” I said, “he cannot be allowed to take the stone from our world. I have to cross through the shield and stop him.”
Kull shook his head. His fisted hands looked empty without Bloodbane. “Olive, no. We will find another way.”
“Given time, perhaps we could find another way, but it will most likely be too late, and then we’ll have failed. I can’t live with that. I can’t live with myself knowing I had the chance to save the fairies and I didn’t take it. Living with regret is a hard thing to do.”
I knew my words would be difficult for him to hear, and I knew I hurt him when I said it, because the pain in his eyes was so intense I could no longer meet his gaze.
“I should go,” I whispered before turning to face the cave’s entrance.
A flurry of emotions welled inside me—hope, fear, confusion. What would I find once I entered the cave?
Magic prickled my skin as I walked through the shield. Kull said something as I stepped to the other side, but as I crossed, his words were too muffled to make out. I turned around to face the shield, expecting to see my companions on the opposite side, instead, I found only a glowing blue wall of magic.
I was alone.
With the light coming from the wall and crystals glowing along the path, the cave was better lit than I had expected. I walked with my hands curled into fists, my heart fluttering in my chest.
After escaping the bloodthorn in the forest, I’d sworn never to be imprisoned again, yet that was what I feared would happen once I found him. It couldn’t happen again. No matter how sporadic and unwieldy my magic had become, I called it to the surface, ready at a moment’s notice to be unleashed. I would not become his prisoner again.
He would never again have power over me.
The path sloped downward. I clenched and unclenched my hands as sweat beaded in my palms. Stay calm. Control your magic. He won’t have power over you again.
Reluctantly, I walked forward. The fear I experienced was so potent I found it hard to breathe.
I rounded a corner and entered an open chamber. The room wasn’t large, although a wall jutted out and obscured my view of the entire space. A portal glistened blue and silver, replacing the entire back wall. Bursts of light sparkled, casting light in shimmering waves like reflections in water. I’d never seen a portal as large as this one.
Entering the room, my footsteps echoed as I descended a set of broad, stone steps and then rounded the corner. The rest of the room came into view.
Officer Gardener knelt in the room, trembling, his officer’s uniform tattered and covered in mud and dried blood. His face was so pale I barely recognized him. Cuts mangled the officer’s body, some of them still oozing blood. The bloodthorn stood over him, a knife pressed to the officer’s throat. What had the bloodthorn done to the man?
“Stop,” the monster said, “and approach slowly.”
My heart pounding wildly, I took a cautious step forward. “What do you want with him?” I asked, nodding toward the officer.
“His life,” the beast answered, “in exchange for yours.”
Balling my fists, I felt my magic at the ready, almost overpowering me.
“Choose,” the bloodthorn said. “His life or yours. I’ve seen his mind. He will be missed by those he calls family. They love him still—they need him. Will you take him from them?”
“You would be the one to kill him, not me. His blood will not be on my hands.”
“Choose!” the bloodthorn said, his voice rising. “His life or yours?”
The bloodthorn’s knife tip pressed harder into Officer Gardener’s neck, breaking the skin. Officer Gardener winced. In his eyes, I saw desperation—his hope for a future with his ex-wife and daughter, his pain at having lost them, the love he had for them no matter what came between them. What would his death mean to his wife, to his daughter? He had people who
