Chapter 59 The Morning of the Rift
The air was too still. That was the first thing I noticed when my eyes snapped open—not the smell of blood, not the ache in my chest where the phantom-blade had pierced my soul, but the absolute, crushing silence of a world that had stopped breathing.
I sat up with a gasp, my hand flying to my sternum. The Soulmark was there, scarred and jagged, but the skin was closed. The furs were matted with dried, dark stains.
"Don't move," a voice rasped.
Caspian was beside me, but he looked like a ghost. His skin was the color of wet ash, and the metallic frost that usually shimmered on his arms had gone dull, like lead. He was trembling, a fine, rhythmic shudder that he couldn't hide.
"Caspian? What happened? Where is my mother?" I scrambled toward him, but the moment I moved, a wave of nausea hit me.
"She’s gone. Or she was never there," Caspian whispered, his voice a hollow echo. "It was a projection. A hook. She pulled something out of us, Lyra. Something vital."
I looked past him toward the massive arched windows of the ceremonial suite. My heart stopped.
"Caspian... look at the woods."
"There are no woods," he said, not even turning his head.
I lunged out of bed, my legs buckling. I crawled to the window and pulled back the heavy velvet drapes. I expected to see the Silver Woods, the charred remains of the courtyard, or even Vane’s army.
Instead, there was nothing.
The manor was floating in a sea of swirling, bruised purple and abyssal black. Great ribbons of nebula-like gas drifted past the glass. Far below, where the earth should have been, were floating islands of jagged rock and ruins of cities I didn't recognize.
"We’re in the Void Realm," I breathed, my forehead pressing against the cold glass. "The wedding... it was supposed to close the rift."
"It didn't close it," Kael’s voice came from the shadows near the door. He was standing with Rune, both of them looking unnervingly healthy. Their skin was flushed, their eyes bright—a sickening contrast to Caspian’s decay. "It turned the manor into the bridge itself. We aren't in our world anymore, Lyra. We are the anchor for the abyss."
I turned on them, my eyes flashing. "How are you two standing? You were drained! Rune, you gave me your blood. Kael, your mind was hollowed out!"
Rune stepped forward, his expression a mix of awe and horror. "We don't know. We woke up an hour ago feeling like... like we’d been reborn. The strength is coursing through me like a river."
"It’s not a river," Caspian snarled from the bed, struggling to sit up. "It’s a tap. And I’m the keg."
I looked at Caspian, then back at the brothers. "What are you talking about?"
"Look at the bond, Lyra," Kael said, his voice dropping to a somber whisper. "The Mind-Link is wide open. You aren't just 'muting' us anymore. You’ve bridged the circuit, but you’re doing it subconsciously."
"I don't understand," I said.
"You're feeding us, Lyra," Rune said, his voice thick with guilt. "You’re pulling the life force out of Caspian through the Soulmate bond and pumping it into Kael and me to keep the 'Body' and 'Mind' of the pack alive. You’re killing him to keep us strong."
"No!" I screamed, the silver circlet on my head sparking. "I would never do that!"
"You aren't doing it on purpose," Kael stepped closer, his hand outstretched. "The manor is demanding a toll to stay afloat in the Void. It’s taking the strongest energy source available. That’s Caspian. And because you love him, you’re the conduit. You’re the straw, Lyra."
I turned to Caspian, horror dawning on me. "Caspian, is it true? Can you feel me taking it?"
Caspian looked at me, and for a second, the obsidian in his eyes softened into the silver fire I loved. He reached out, his hand shaking, and cupped my cheek.
"It doesn't matter," he whispered.
"It matters to me! I'm draining you!"
"I’d give you every drop anyway," he rasped. "Better you take it than the Witch Lord."
"We have to stop it," I said, looking at Kael. "Break the bond. Undo the wedding."
"We can't," Kael said, a hard edge returning to his voice. "If we break the Quadad now, the manor disintegrates. We fall into the Void. Every soul in this house—the survivors, the servants—they all die instantly. We are the only thing keeping this stone from becoming dust."
"So the price is Caspian’s life?" I challenged, my voice rising. "That’s your 'tactical' solution, Alpha?"
"I didn't say I liked it," Kael snapped. "But look outside! We are in the mouth of the beast. We need a way to steer this ship back to reality."
Caspian stood up then, leaning heavily on the bedpost. "Take me to the balcony. I need to see the sky."
"Caspian, you're too weak," Rune said, moving to help him.
"Touch me and I’ll take back everything Lyra gave you," Caspian growled, his eyes flashing with a remnant of his old lethality.
I went to him, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He was cold—so cold. We walked slowly toward the balcony doors. I pushed them open, and the wind hit us. It wasn't the wind of the forest; it was a static-charged gale that smelled of ancient dust and ozone.
The purple sky was beautiful and terrifying. Lightning that didn't thunder arched across the horizon. We stood at the edge, the stone railing the only thing between us and an infinite fall into the violet clouds.
Caspian pulled me into his heat, his arms wrapping around me from behind. He leaned his chin on my shoulder, his breath a faint puff against my neck.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured. "In a 'we're-all-going-to-die' kind of way."
"We aren't going to die," I said, though my voice lacked conviction. "We’ll find a way back."
"If this is the end of the world, Lyra," he whispered, his grip tightening as if he were afraid he’d dissolve into the wind, "at least I’m the one holding you when the sun goes out. I’d rather be a ghost in your arms than a King in any other."
"Caspian, stop talking like it's a goodbye."
"It's a balance sheet, Little Wolf. And right now, the debt is high." He turned me in his arms, his eyes searching mine. "Promise me one thing. If it comes down to it... if the manor starts to fall... you take everything. Don't let a single spark of my power go to waste. Use it to jump this house back to the woods."
"I won't kill you for a house, Caspian."
"It's not for the house," he said, leaning down to press a dry, lingering kiss to my forehead. "It's for you."
The moment was shattered by a scream from inside the suite. It wasn't a scream of pain, but of pure, unadulterated shock.
"Lyra! Kael! Get out here!" Rune’s voice roared from the hallway.
I broke away from Caspian, my heart racing. "Rune? What is it? Is it the Shadow-Beast?"
We stumbled back into the room and out into the main corridor. The plague-veins in the walls were glowing a bright, sickly green now. Rune was standing halfway down the hall, staring at a wall of solid stone.
"Rune, what's wrong?" Kael demanded, his hand on his sword.
"This wall," Rune pointed, his finger trembling. "There was no door here. This is the solid foundation of the north wing. But look."
I stepped forward. A faint, glowing outline of a door was appearing on the stone—a door made of light and shifting mist. It looked like the Fae portal, but smaller, more intimate.
"Is it a way out?" I asked.
"Listen," Rune whispered, his face pale.
I leaned closer to the shifting mist. At first, there was only the sound of the Void-wind. But then, a voice drifted through—a voice that made the blood in my veins turn to lead.
"Is anyone there?" the voice called out. It was high-pitched, thin, and tremulous. It sounded like a child of no more than six or seven years old. "It’s so dark in here. Please, I want to come home."
"That voice..." Kael breathed, his eyes wide. "That’s Lord Thorne."
"Lord Thorne is a grown man! He’s the one who sent us into the Fae realm!" I shouted. "He’s a monster!"
"No," Rune whispered, his hand reaching toward the door of light. "Listen to the cadence. That’s him. That’s our father's voice from the old recordings. But he sounds... he sounds like he’s dying."
"Lyra, help me!" the child-voice cried from behind the stone. "The man with the shadow-face is coming! He says I have to give him the key! Please, open the door!"
Suddenly, the door didn't just glow; it began to bleed. Thick, black ichor started seeping from the edges of the light-frame, dripping onto the floor.
"Don't open it!" Caspian warned, stumbling toward us. "It’s a lure!"
But the child-voice turned into a blood-curdling shriek. "He's here! He’s cutting me! Lyra, help!"
The stone wall began to crack. A massive, charred hand—larger than any human’s—slammed against the light-door from the other side, the fingers hooking into the wood and tearing it like paper.
"That isn't Lord Thorne," I whispered, backing away as the hallway began to fill with the smell of rotting lilies.
From the darkness of the opening, a pair of glowing violet eyes—identical to mine—stared out.
"The child is the key," a new voice boomed, deep and distorted. "And the key is hungry."
The hand reached out, grabbing Rune by the throat before he could even blink, and began to drag him into the door of light.
"Rune!" I screamed.