Lorn stepped out of the boat and into the water, pulling it the rest of the way to shore. I gripped the sides of the boat, unwilling to leave the illusion of its safety, because once I did, I knew I would have to step through the miasma and face whatever was waiting on the other side.
He stretched out his hand to me, and I took it as he helped me out of the boat. We walked up to the edge of the swirling mist, and I stared into it.
“Lorn, what will I face on the other side?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
“But I can’t stop them alone.”
“You have everything you need.” He tapped my chest. “Right here. Are you ready?” he asked.
I wasn’t, not really.
“What is it?” I asked, touching the darkness. “It feels like the veil that protects the Northern Woods.”
“It is much older. When the old elven king tried to tap into the sacred hollow, it fractured. They knew what they had done was wrong. They saw the deviated magic, and the effect it had on the woods and creatures around us. They made the decision to protect it with a veil, and since then, all of the southern elves have been sworn to guard it for generations. That is their purpose.”
“You mean Percy and Ardax.”
“Yes, it is their clan’s punishment for tainting the ley line. They are duty bound to be Denizens—guardians of their sacred hollow. But they would not be needed for many years to come except . . .”
“They’re dying, giving their life to protect the princesses and the sacred hollow.”
Lorn nodded. “Ardax and Percy were called back decades earlier than they should have been to fulfill their roles. And at the same time, aiding the son of Allemar because they are generationally bound by a bloodcurse,” he added. “It was that very first sorcerer who tricked the king of the elves into corrupting that ley line, and in doing so, he bound them to him—as servants. Allemar is a direct descendant of that first sorcerer.”
“I saw Percy’s wrist,” I said. “He bore the mark of Allemar’s apprentice, which means that he is—”
“Bound to Allemar, but not just Allemar; his son as well.”
“But how, when?” I asked. “It wasn’t there before. I would have seen the mark years ago . . .” I sighed. “The leather bracers . . .”
“It was always there, but he hid it well.”
“How could I have not known? You even warned me. He was my enemy, and now I have to fight him. How do you fight someone you love?” I asked.
Lorn grasped my shoulders, and turned me to face him, his silver eyes filling with unshed tears.
“I didn’t train you and Percy together because you would one day have to fight him. I did it so that you could one day save him.”
With that sorrowful warning, Lorn pulled me into the mist after him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As soon as we passed through the protective veil, I heard it. The music, eerie and somber. Not beautiful like I had once thought, but heartbreaking. I could imagine the princesses, their faces masked with pain, and their escorts doing everything they could to keep dancing and stay moving.
Walking through the ruins, I could feel the hum of magic, and I knew the spell was in full swing. As I stepped through the hall filled with arches, I looked down onto the black dance floor. If I concentrated, I could see the sigils filling with power, sucking the energy from the elves and the dancers, and flowing into the paintings.
What I was most surprised to see was that before six of the paintings, were hundreds of servants lined up, their expressions blank and unmoving, like the masks the escorts wore.
“What’s going on?” I asked Lorn.
“They’re preparing for war. As soon as the spell is complete, the paintings will open, and they’ll spill over into the realms.”
“But they’re not fighters. These are nobles, lords and servants. I recognize Lord Packer and the palace guards. Look, there’s Wentworth, and even Randolph the guildmaster.”
We passed through the rows of immobile, passive people. Saphira had said that people were disappearing from the city, and now I understood where they had been going. They were being taken into the sacred hollow.
“Once the spell is complete, they’ll pass through.” Lorn sidestepped a man whose glazed-over eyes followed him without moving.
“Rhea said there are armies on the other side waiting for them. They can help them get to safety.”
“No, Honor. After you went through and Ardax closed the veil, the demons that attacked the Northern Woods shifted and turned back to their former shape. They weren’t hellhounds. They were human. Rethulian recognized the twisted magic. Once they step through those portals, the twisted magic of this ley line will shift them into something else. Something inhuman. It didn’t work on you because you’re an antimage, and you countered it. There will be no hope for them unless we stop this spell.”
I grabbed the closest woman to me and snapped my fingers in front of her face.
“Hello, wake up,” I said loudly. I shook her, and then moved to the next person, shaking them. No one moved, for they were all under a powerful enchantment. I focused on each person and tried to see if there was a hint of residual magic about them.
There was none.
“Drink the tea, dance till dawn. The tea,” I muttered, remembering the tea the daughters gave the men who guarded them. “They’re drugged. It’s not magic that I can counter or nullify.”
“It’s the tea that binds them to the spell and allows them to be controlled.”
The closest painting hummed with energy, and the colors within began to melt and merge together.
“You’re running out of time,” Lorn warned.
He was right. I ran, no longer worrying about bumping or knocking into them. If I couldn’t stop the spell, then they were all going to die, either from the transformation, or at the hands of the six armies waiting on the other side. Then war would break out for sure.
I ran down the steps toward the dais and burst into the circle full of dancers. Eleven princesses and their eleven escorts.
I immediately picked out Percy, dancing with Lisbelle. The young princess had a gruesome smirk on her face, as if she was enjoying torturing my friend. Percy’s eyes were closed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. I knew he was doing everything he could to keep going.
“Lisbelle, stop now.”
A bitter scoff escaped her lips. “I’ll never quit.” She turned to address me, her face contorted into an ugly snarl, and her eyes filled with rage. “But you know that. I will never lose to you, no matter how much you torture me.”
I blinked, confused by her reaction.
“Release them from the spell,” I demanded.
Lisbelle barked out a laugh. “As if I could.”
Nothing I was saying was getting through to her. Percy gazed up at me through his white mask, and I could see his hesitation. The slowing of his movements, his feet dragging, not keeping up with the tempo of the music.
“No, you can’t,” Lisbelle hissed, her fingers digging into his arm. “You stop, you die!”
With a renewed energy, he picked up his pace and continued to dance, and I felt hopeless at stopping them from weaving their spell. The magic was gathering. I could feel its energy and power trickle across my skin, causing the hairs on my arms to raise, then I sensed a malicious presence.