Rowan Estate was shaking. Bookshelves groaned and cracked, sending volumes tumbling to the floor in a cascade. The sound continued to grow until the air swam with it, as if the very stones of the building were screaming.
An explosion rocked the library. I buried my face in my father’s chest, biting my lip as the violent movements of the earth made the pain in my shoulder—where the spear still pinned me to the wall—almost unbearable. Sabine shifted forms and gripped my other arm, distracting me from the throbbing wound. I looked at her, grateful for the strength I found burning in her gaze. She leaned her forehead against mine and I laced my fingers through hers.
Crashes echoed all around us. I thought I heard Connor shouting. My father, Sabine, and I clung to each other. Bryn’s fur pressed into our bodies and she whimpered. Though Sabine’s hair whipped around my face, I caught snatches of the chaos just beyond our huddled trio. Clouds had poured into the room, swirling in the sickly green shades of the Rift itself, mirroring the sky just before a tornado. The winds that raged around us made me wonder if a funnel cloud had indeed touched down nearby. Shapes were hurling past us. Succubi and incubi screamed as they were sucked into the Rift, clawing at the air as they were dragged from the earth. Some had horrified Keepers locked in a fatal embrace, pulling their masters shrieking into oblivion. A few husk-like bodies sailed past, skin so parched that I could hardly believe they didn’t crumble as they were battered by the storm. Though lifeless, the dusty figures weren’t the Fallen. I couldn’t tell what they were, but at least a dozen sailed past us, falling into the Rift alongside the other Nether creatures.
The screaming wind built into a final sudden gust, followed by a low rumble. The sound built, finally rolling through the library like the loudest thunderclap I’d ever heard.
It was followed by silence.
The wind was still there, but the violent blast had become a steady, gentle pour of cold winter air.
My father slowly unfurled himself from the protective ball he’d been curled into around Bryn, Sabine, and me. I winced, straining against the spear that impaled my shoulder, as I searched for any sign of Shay, but my gaze was caught by the shocking source of the icy wind. The wall of the library had been obliterated. The room opened up to the snow-covered ground outside. Only the stone frame of the fireplace remained, standing tall in a stark outline against the winter night.
“You all right?” Connor shouted to us. He was helping Adne to her feet. The ropes that had been holding her fell away as she stood. Only frayed threads remained. Ethan was hopping over piles of books and splintered wood in an attempt to reach us. Sabine squeezed my hand before running to meet him. He pulled her against him, drawing her into a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he buried his fingers in her hair.
“Brace yourself, Calla.” My father had taken hold of the spear still lodged in my shoulder. Bryn, now in human form, took my hand. I gritted my teeth, managing only a brief cry as he dislodged the spear from the wall and jerked it out of my body.
“Here.” He already had his bleeding wrist pressing against my lips. I tried not to think about the pain in my throbbing shoulder, focusing instead on the soothing warmth that poured over me as I took my father’s blood.
I leaned back against the wall, drawing a slow, shuddering breath. “I’m good.”
He smiled at me. I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.
“They’ve all gone.” Ethan came toward us, hand in hand with Sabine. “No more Nether freaks.”
“Where did they go?” I asked, scanning the room. There was no sign of the creatures that had assailed us.
“No idea,” he said. “I pretty much went for duck and cover once the building started coming down.”
“That’s not all that’s gone,” Connor said. “I think Logan made a run for it.”
A drying pool of blood marked the spot where Logan had fallen, clutching the gashes Bosque had carved in his chest. The pool lengthened, stretching into a line and then becoming splotches as the trail headed toward the door.
“Good riddance,” Adne said.
“I’d rather have him where we can keep an eye on him,” Ethan muttered.
A shiver raced up my spine. Logan was gone. But where? Had he gone after Lumine? Would he come back, seeking revenge?
“It doesn’t matter now,” Connor said. “We’ll have to track him down eventually. But he’s not a threat with Bosque gone. He has no power to draw from.”
“If the Nether creatures are all gone, why are the Fallen still here?” Sabine said, looking over her shoulder.
“They aren’t Fallen anymore,” Connor answered. Adne was beside him, rubbing the rope burns on her arms.
Ethan nodded. “Those are just bodies.”
I peered past the Searchers. The shambling horrors that I’d come to know as the Fallen were strewn across the floor. They were now corpses in varying states of decay. Some looked as if they’d been dead only weeks, while all that remained of others were skeletons.
Our enemies had vanished. Did that mean we’d won? Was the war over?
I looked at the fireplace. All signs of the Rift were gone. No putrid green glow filled its depths. The gaping maw was empty and silent.
Shay had done it. I expected to see him striding toward us, a wide smile lighting his face. But he wasn’t there. My eyes swept around the fireplace, searching for any sign of him and finding none.
Where was he? My heart skipped a beat.
“Shay!” I ran toward the austere stone frame.
A frenzy of terrible questions hammered against my skull.
What if the Rift had pulled him in too? What if the power of the Cross was too great, consuming Shay even as it destroyed Bosque?
“I’m here.” Shay stepped out from behind the other side of the remaining structure. The storm created by the Elemental Cross had vanished. The swords were sheathed at his back. The power that had changed his voice was gone. Shay was wholly himself again.
But he wasn’t alone.
A tall man with golden brown hair was resting his hand on Shay’s shoulder. A woman with dark hair and pale green eyes had one of Shay’s hands clasped in both of hers.
“Calla.” Shay smiled at me. “I’d like you to meet my parents: Tristan and Sarah Doran.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE LIBRARY WAS IN SHAMBLES. Snow was already drifting from outside. And that wasn’t all.
An explosion rocked the library. I buried my face in my father’s chest, biting my lip as the violent movements of the earth made the pain in my shoulder—where the spear still pinned me to the wall—almost unbearable. Sabine shifted forms and gripped my other arm, distracting me from the throbbing wound. I looked at her, grateful for the strength I found burning in her gaze. She leaned her forehead against mine and I laced my fingers through hers.
Crashes echoed all around us. I thought I heard Connor shouting. My father, Sabine, and I clung to each other. Bryn’s fur pressed into our bodies and she whimpered. Though Sabine’s hair whipped around my face, I caught snatches of the chaos just beyond our huddled trio. Clouds had poured into the room, swirling in the sickly green shades of the Rift itself, mirroring the sky just before a tornado. The winds that raged around us made me wonder if a funnel cloud had indeed touched down nearby. Shapes were hurling past us. Succubi and incubi screamed as they were sucked into the Rift, clawing at the air as they were dragged from the earth. Some had horrified Keepers locked in a fatal embrace, pulling their masters shrieking into oblivion. A few husk-like bodies sailed past, skin so parched that I could hardly believe they didn’t crumble as they were battered by the storm. Though lifeless, the dusty figures weren’t the Fallen. I couldn’t tell what they were, but at least a dozen sailed past us, falling into the Rift alongside the other Nether creatures.
The screaming wind built into a final sudden gust, followed by a low rumble. The sound built, finally rolling through the library like the loudest thunderclap I’d ever heard.
It was followed by silence.
The wind was still there, but the violent blast had become a steady, gentle pour of cold winter air.
My father slowly unfurled himself from the protective ball he’d been curled into around Bryn, Sabine, and me. I winced, straining against the spear that impaled my shoulder, as I searched for any sign of Shay, but my gaze was caught by the shocking source of the icy wind. The wall of the library had been obliterated. The room opened up to the snow-covered ground outside. Only the stone frame of the fireplace remained, standing tall in a stark outline against the winter night.
“You all right?” Connor shouted to us. He was helping Adne to her feet. The ropes that had been holding her fell away as she stood. Only frayed threads remained. Ethan was hopping over piles of books and splintered wood in an attempt to reach us. Sabine squeezed my hand before running to meet him. He pulled her against him, drawing her into a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he buried his fingers in her hair.
“Brace yourself, Calla.” My father had taken hold of the spear still lodged in my shoulder. Bryn, now in human form, took my hand. I gritted my teeth, managing only a brief cry as he dislodged the spear from the wall and jerked it out of my body.
“Here.” He already had his bleeding wrist pressing against my lips. I tried not to think about the pain in my throbbing shoulder, focusing instead on the soothing warmth that poured over me as I took my father’s blood.
I leaned back against the wall, drawing a slow, shuddering breath. “I’m good.”
He smiled at me. I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet.
“They’ve all gone.” Ethan came toward us, hand in hand with Sabine. “No more Nether freaks.”
“Where did they go?” I asked, scanning the room. There was no sign of the creatures that had assailed us.
“No idea,” he said. “I pretty much went for duck and cover once the building started coming down.”
“That’s not all that’s gone,” Connor said. “I think Logan made a run for it.”
A drying pool of blood marked the spot where Logan had fallen, clutching the gashes Bosque had carved in his chest. The pool lengthened, stretching into a line and then becoming splotches as the trail headed toward the door.
“Good riddance,” Adne said.
“I’d rather have him where we can keep an eye on him,” Ethan muttered.
A shiver raced up my spine. Logan was gone. But where? Had he gone after Lumine? Would he come back, seeking revenge?
“It doesn’t matter now,” Connor said. “We’ll have to track him down eventually. But he’s not a threat with Bosque gone. He has no power to draw from.”
“If the Nether creatures are all gone, why are the Fallen still here?” Sabine said, looking over her shoulder.
“They aren’t Fallen anymore,” Connor answered. Adne was beside him, rubbing the rope burns on her arms.
Ethan nodded. “Those are just bodies.”
I peered past the Searchers. The shambling horrors that I’d come to know as the Fallen were strewn across the floor. They were now corpses in varying states of decay. Some looked as if they’d been dead only weeks, while all that remained of others were skeletons.
Our enemies had vanished. Did that mean we’d won? Was the war over?
I looked at the fireplace. All signs of the Rift were gone. No putrid green glow filled its depths. The gaping maw was empty and silent.
Shay had done it. I expected to see him striding toward us, a wide smile lighting his face. But he wasn’t there. My eyes swept around the fireplace, searching for any sign of him and finding none.
Where was he? My heart skipped a beat.
“Shay!” I ran toward the austere stone frame.
A frenzy of terrible questions hammered against my skull.
What if the Rift had pulled him in too? What if the power of the Cross was too great, consuming Shay even as it destroyed Bosque?
“I’m here.” Shay stepped out from behind the other side of the remaining structure. The storm created by the Elemental Cross had vanished. The swords were sheathed at his back. The power that had changed his voice was gone. Shay was wholly himself again.
But he wasn’t alone.
A tall man with golden brown hair was resting his hand on Shay’s shoulder. A woman with dark hair and pale green eyes had one of Shay’s hands clasped in both of hers.
“Calla.” Shay smiled at me. “I’d like you to meet my parents: Tristan and Sarah Doran.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE LIBRARY WAS IN SHAMBLES. Snow was already drifting from outside. And that wasn’t all.
