Kalen’s eyes shone with tears. He looked away. “I’m tired.”
Sebastian bustled forward. “I think that’s enough for today. Kalen needs to regain his strength.”
I nodded and looked at Penelope. “As soon as Ashara creates the witchstone, we can leave.”
Penelope turned her gaze on Brother Sebastian, who was busy checking Kalen. “Will Kalen be well enough to travel?”
The old druid shook his bald head. “No, it is too soon. He needs at least a fortnight or maybe two until he is strong enough to leave.”
Penelope stood up, her eyes steely blue as she regarded her son. “Kalen will be safer here with the druids. We have no idea what we will encounter once we get to Stonegate.”
Rafe and Tristan nodded simultaneously. Protective as they were of Kalen, there was no way I could see either of them willingly dragging him along on a quest such as this.
Penelope kissed her son’s forehead. His eyes were already closing. “Now get some rest.”
She glanced at us. “How long will Ashara take to make the witchstone?”
“She said she will have it ready by morning,” Tristan huffed.
Penelope arched an elegant eyebrow. “So soon? Witchstone portals can take months for an ordinary witch to make. Is Ashara that powerful?”
Tristan shrugged. “She believes she is.”
“Well, I hope she knows what she is doing,” Penelope said as she ushered us out of Kalen’s room. “I will stay here with Kalen tonight while you make preparations to leave in the morning.”
The next morning, Ashara had the witchstone ready as promised. Rafe had spent hours with her poring over a map of the area around Stonegate so she could create the portal to take us exactly where we needed to go.
Tristan took the witchstone from Ashara to look it over. It was a small green stone the size of a marble with a strange mist swirling inside it. “Impressive,” he said as he turned it over in his hand and scowled at it. “Does it work?”
Ashara rolled her eyes and took it back. “We will just have to wait and see, won’t we, fae?”
Tristan did not look amused.
We said our goodbyes to Kalen and the druids.
Victor led us through a secret passage out of the monastery that led to the woods behind it. “We cannot open the witchstone portal anywhere near the monastery,” said Victor, waving his staff in front of him and removing the wards. “But we must be quick.”
Outside the magical wards of the druid monastery, the mist was thick and menacing. It crept over the ground and through the trees as if waiting to swallow us up. Tall firs rose above us as we raced toward the hills. Our feet slipped on treacherous wet rocks as we ran, our breath fogging before us. We had one chance to make it through the portal before the Drakwraiths realized where we were. Twilight had started to set in, lighting up the sky in a burnished pink sheen. The mist-covered hills rose all around us, like sentinels at the gateway of a lost world.
Sounds of shrieking pierced the air.
The Drakwraiths were here.
Victor pointed to two large fir trees. “Create the portal there.”
We pushed ourselves faster and ran for the trees.
Victor had stopped. He drew a rune on the ground with his staff, preparing to meet the wraiths. “Go! I will hold them off.”
I glanced back. The Drakwraiths were not alone. “Dark fae,” I gasped and ran faster.
“Victor might be able to stop the Drakwraiths,” shouted Rafe, “but not dark fae.”
Tristan stopped and turned to meet them. “I will make sure they don’t pursue.” His swords lit up with silver fire, fierce and unyielding like the warrior who wielded them. “Go, I’m right behind you.”
I faltered. We were so close, but I knew Victor could not fight the Drakwraiths as well as two dark fae on his own. Ashara stopped as well. She threw me a dark look and pressed the witchstone into my hand. “Go!”
She turned to stand beside Tristan, the stones on her staff coming to life as she woke her magic.
Rafe took my hand. “We have to go, Aurora. If those things follow us through the portal, we will never make it to Stonegate in time. They have to be stopped.”
I nodded and ran, pumping my arms as we raced for the trees. I threw the witchstone at the largest tree. The air before us shimmered as we neared. I let Penelope go first, then Rafe and I followed. Just as we touched the bark of the tree, we were transported by the witchstone portal to the very heart of the Silverspike Mountains that lay in eastern Avalonia.
The portal closed behind us. I hoped Tristan and Ashara were okay.
The air was chilly as an icy wind blew down from the northern mountains. The dwarven fortress of Stonegate lay beneath us, situated within the mountain itself.
“The secret entrance is close by,” said Rafe as he started inspecting the path before us.
“Drimli is planning to let Joreth in through the western gate, which is on the other side of this mountain,” said Penelope. “The Drakaar will be guarding all the entrances. Be careful.”
We climbed down a rocky side of the mountain. “Shh . . .” Rafe crouched behind a rock and pulled me down near him along with Penelope.
My heart leapt into my throat—just a few feet away, two Drakaar were inspecting the area. “I don’t know why the general sent us to guard this side of the mountain. There is nothing here,” one said.
The other nodded. “I would much rather be ripping out dwarf throats.”
I looked over at Rafe, my eyes showing my distress. How were we going to get past these Drakaar? Without Tristan, we wouldn’t stand a chance.
A shadow loomed behind us. “What have we here?” said a raspy voice.
I whirled around, drawing my sword.
A Drakaar stood before me, soulless black eyes and serrated teeth flashing as Dragath’s henchman regarded me. His smile was vicious as he reached out his hand and shadows formed around us,
