Valkyrie's Sacrifice (Academy of Immortals 3)

The fairy’s expression tells me she has doubts. Her faith was tested in the arena fight. She’s not the same as before. Gone is the happy girl with pink hair and a quick mind. Oh, her hair is still pink, but she’s scarred, angry, vengeful.

Good. That’s what we need for allies, because with every day that passes, there’s a nagging in my chest. Something, someone, darker is pulling the strings behind this apocalypse. Someone bigger than Roland or Victorine.

Someone I’ve betrayed.

3

Hildi

Warmth spirals up my body, settling around my neck. It’s like I’m drowning, pulled under, smothered. I gasp for air, tossing and turning, trying to escape. “Help!” I cry, my voice muffled. “Someone help!”

“Hildi!”

The sound of my name jerks me awake, and I blink into the dark room as I fight against the blanket bunched at my chest.

“Gods,” I mutter, slinging my legs over the side of the bed. Sleep has been elusive since Marshal arrived, but this heat is new. I run a hand over my neck and yelp when the metal of the ring on my finger meets my throat.

I blink at the purple stone—flickering with light. That’s when I sense the tug, pulling me out of bed, down the narrow hallway to the mirror over the bathroom sink.

“Hello?” I ask, heart hammering. The ring pulses happily. “Morgan?”

The surface of the mirror shimmers, like a pool of melted glass. Tentatively, I reach toward the center, feeling the energy that shifts between worlds. My fingers vanish, then my whole hand. An instant later I’m yanked through, tumbling on the other side onto hard stone floors.

I look up and see bare feet and a swollen belly.

“Sorry about that,” she says. “That place you’re in—it’s hard to locate.”

I get to my knees, then feet, towering over my friend. Her cheeks are pale, her stomach massive. “It’s Miya’s…somewhere safe.”

“The wards are very strong. If you hadn’t had the ring, I never would have found you.” She looks me up and down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say. “What about you? The baby? The Guardians.”

Her hand runs over her stomach. “We’re fine. Worried, but fine.”

“The apocalypse—”

“Has begun. We know.”

“Is it there? Back home?”

She shakes her head. “No. It seems contained to the Lowerworld for now, but the Guardians have a way of keeping track, primarily through their artwork.” She holds up a book. “This is for you.”

The book is heavy, bound in a dark brown leather, runes stamped on the cover. “What is it?”

“Dylan has transcribed what he can surmise from Sam’s photos and Bunny’s paintings. Both a view into the Lowerworld.” She reaches into her pocket and removes a small velvet pouch. “Damien made these.”

I take the pouch and look inside. There are six rings. “What are these for? Protection?”

“You could say that.” She glances over her shoulder. “I don’t have much time. You don’t have much time. The gods are impatient and are ready for you to join the fight.”

“Marshal is still healing.”

“Then help him heal faster.”

“The nurse and caretakers are doing what they can. The wound is bad—probably poison or something mystical. I don’t know if or when he’ll be better.”

Morgan takes my hands and the ring flares with heat. “Hildi, you are the only one that can help him right now. Use the bond.”