"Impressive," says Lucian. He must sense the power within me. He continues walking on a path down the mountain. "Have you been here before?"

All the snow. I have not been to a part of Avakiri so cold. I look around for any recognizable landmarks. In the far distance, I see what seems a castle. Grey. Twisted. That is no structure of Fae. It seems… "We're not in Avakiri, are we? We're in Inferna."

He nods.

"Why?"

"There is something here," he says. "Something important to Metsi and me."

Something appears on the horizon. A ruin of ancient stone. Pillars shattered and laying on their side. Archways missing chunks of rock. Statues of men and animals stand tall, some missing a nose, others a hand. The architecture is familiar. It reminds me of the ruins Dean and I uncovered in his realm. The ruins where we found the Mirror of Idis.

Despite my spell, my body starts to cool as we enter the ruin. There is a power here. A force I can feel but not name. "This is why we're here," I say. "You seek something in the ruin."

Lucan raises an eyebrow. "Clever girl. Did you know the Ancient Fae had powers far surpassing those the Fae possess now?"

"I've seen hints."

"It is because the Primal One left them, you know, that they fell into disarray. Without a proper ruler, the Four Tribes grew more and more distant, more and more different. In time, they forgot the power of unity. Each tribe sought more power. They dabbled with things best left untouched. And eventually, it destroyed them."

"The Darkness," I say, growing colder just at the mention of the word.

He nods. "They did not know how to control it. And so it consumed them."

"What of the High Fae? Why didn't they stop it? Prevent the rituals?" But maybe they tried. Maybe they tried like Varis tried to prevent my own ritual, when the Darkness drove Yami mad.

"The High Fae were more advisors than real rulers," says Lucian, waving his hand dismissively. "No one listened to them the way they did the Primal One. It was only after the collapse, after the Ancient Fae died off, that the High Fae tightened their rule to prevent such disasters in the future."

Suddenly, a deep chill seeps into my bones. And despite my magic, I tremble.

"Ah," says Lucian. "We are here."

I follow his gaze to the end of the ruin. There, carved into the mountain, stands a giant grey door, a tree engraved on its center. The wind moves oddly here. Pulsing, beating like a heart. And on the cold air, carries a whisper. A soft caress. It draws me. Pulls me closer to the door. Without thinking, I find myself walking forward. Closer. Closer. With each step, my limbs grow colder, my skin turns paler. Frost builds on my eyelashes, on my hair. But I do not care. I not feel the chill. Not anymore. Instead I feel warmth. The warmth of a soft embrace. When I lay my hand upon the door, a flash of energy courses through my body, like a lover's touch. And when I lay my ear against the stone. I hear it. I feel it.

The Darkness.

Chapter 8

MARASPHYR

Fenris Vane

"There is too much temptation to touch her, to hold her, and having her so close but not quite close enough is a sweet kind of torture I am unused to."

—Fenris Vane

We ride for Grey Mountain. Deep into the realm of Envy. Deep into Levi's territory. Even with him gone, we must be careful. If the Princes of War and Lust were spotted traveling to the mountains, word could reach Metsi, giving her time to escape and take Arianna with her. This I will not allow.

So we wear illusions and avoid conversation that would reveal too much. Even Baron is under illusion to look like a dog rather than a wolf. I thought Dean would find it a nuisance, but there is a fire in his eyes, a focus. All thoughts but those of Arianna seem burned from his mind. "When we arrive," he says, as we travel on an empty road, "leave the Druid to me. Focus on Arianna. Get her out."

I guide my steed to stay on the dirt path between fields of snow. Dean rides to my right, Tavian to my left and Baron runs ahead, sniffing out our path. We are a meager group, but it is best to travel with fewer people. Less noticeable. Asher needed to stay to manage the realms. Varis chose to stay and keep an eye on the increasingly worrisome Asher. And Tavian… he surprised me by insisting on coming. "If I do not help you rescue Arianna, Kayla would never forgive me," he'd said. I think also he needed a task with purpose to take his mind off Kayla's diminishing health.

We rode hard the first day, but our horses needed rest, so now we travel at a slow canter. Until we can make haste once more. "We will need our combined strength to defeat Metsi," I say. "We must—"

"I don't care about beating her," says Dean, glaring at the horizon, at the setting orange sun. "I will distract her. You will save Arianna. If I fall in battle, so be it."

I have never seen such fervor from my brother. He seems consumed. But then again, so am I. My thoughts are of Arianna and nothing else. "Very well. We will do as you say."

Tavian nods in agreement.

We speak little then. Until we near the Crimson Castle.

It stands in the distance upon a hill of snow. Red clay leaks from beneath the earth, staining the white land red. The castle itself is built from pale blue stone, its spires jagged and sharp, its ceilings arched. Stone statues loom above the entry way, cruel beasts stalking those below. There is a darkness to the castle. A feeling that makes your hair stand on end. Arianna would call it gothic, I think. But there is something more, hidden behind the layers of twisted beauty. A cruelty. A meanness you can taste.