Obsidian Fire (The Raven Queen's Harem 4)

No voice replies but she feels something—the deep thrum of magic.

Maverick notices her clothing has changed. She’s no longer in the school outfit she’d worn into the woods. Her pants are a form-fitting black leather. Sturdy boots cover her feet. Her top is dark and made of thick hide. She rea

lizes quickly that she must have been injured. Maybe killed, and this is nothing but a hallucination.

She takes a shaky step down the hall, figuring the only way out is to either wake up or figure out where she is. In the distance a loud explosion rocks the foundation. Cannon fire? Maverick isn’t in the suburbs of Georgia anymore. She continues walking.

Footsteps echo in the distance and she presses herself in a shadow against the cold wall. At the nearest intersection a group of soldiers runs past, dressed in the darkest of blacks. A blood red patch rests on their breast. She’s too far to make out the design.

Once she’s sure they’re gone she turns the way they’ve come from and works her way through the twists and turns of the hallways. She has no idea where she’s going but a tug in the pit of her stomach guides her. Left, then right, then right again. There’s no hesitation at the turns. Instinct leads her.

That is until she gets to a split in the hallway. Three different directions off the main hall. Her brain tells her to move forward but her heart tugs her to the left. Another sound bounces off the stone walls and she chooses the path ahead before she’s noticed.

The corridor grows larger, taller and wider with each step. The décor is grand. Tapestries line the walls, each depicting a different bloody battle. Maverick pauses in front of one. In a rich black thread a raven flies across the sky.

There’s little doubt what and who lies at the end of the hall. She takes a deep, nerve-settling breath.

The grand, arched doors are wide open. They’re made of a thick, impenetrable iron. The activities in the room keep eyes directed away from her and she slowly inches her way into the crowded chamber.

Spectators press their backs against the edges of the room. The ceiling is high and vaulted. The center focus of the room is a throne and the undeniable queen perched in its seat. Two enormous banners hang from the rafters—ravens, naturally. Both carry skulls in their talons.

The queen has her own unit of guards but their faces are unfamiliar. One guard with wavy blond hair and a beard to match steps forward.

“Quiet!”

The entire hall falls into silence. Maverick inches her way behind a stone pillar.

“You’re all here to learn of the fate of our mission,” the Queen says, her voice strong and confident. “A sacrifice was made. The entry breached. They lost a man.”

“But,” a man across the room says. “What about the cannons?”

“Step forward,” the Queen demands, but it’s pointless because the guards, including the one that had spoken before, have dragged him from his spot in the crowd. In an even tone she asks, “Did you wish to speak?”

“The cannons,” he says again. Fear shadows his expression. “There is fighting on the battlefield, correct?”

As if on cue another explosion rattles the lead-glass windowpanes.

“As this man has pointed out, a battle rages in the south side of the country. During the attack on the entry gate complications arose.” Murmurs roll through the crowd. The Queen holds up her hand, asking for silence. Maverick hasn’t moved an inch. “The Guardians are in our realm. They think they can keep us back, but we’ll kill them, leaving the gate unprotected. It’s only a matter of time before we obliterate it entirely.”

She waves her hand and the bearded guard pushes the questioning man to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes but everything moves too quick. Maverick watches as a blade slices through the air and with a quick stab, releases the life from the man’s body. He falls face first, cheek landing on the stone floor. It’s only then that she notices the flash of gray rubbing against the queen’s feet.

The cat.

I blink and stare at the words on the page, or rather, pages. I flip through the notebook, stunned at the volume. I haven’t written a sentence in the past month and then, wham! All that tumbles out without a second thought.

A strange sensation overcomes me. A little out-of-body and a whole lot déjà vu. Just like with the first part of my book, the story feels close. Too close. But how? I know I wasn’t ever in the Otherside. I was here, dealing with the loss of my parents and surviving. I think back to what Dylan has told me about the past five years. That after the skirmish in the forest they transformed into men and went to fight a deadly battle against the Morrigan—keeping her out of this realm. Maybe that’s it? Maybe I’m seeing their time in the Otherside.

A knock on my door makes me jump and I close my notebook, although not before I see the final line about the gray cat.

Anita.

I’d definitely like to have a conversation with her—if only I could find out where she’s hiding.

From the fading light outside my window I see that hours have passed. Just how long have I been up here? Whoever is outside the door bangs again and I hop up, and shout, “I’m coming.”

I don’t run, I’m still annoyed from the meeting earlier. I feel like there’s a tug of war on my body—my mind. Is the Darkness gone? The Morrigan? When they suggested I may have a little of her power left I can’t deny I was excited. In a strange way I missed her. But I know she’s an evil bitch and the last thing I want is her to control me.