The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

My first glimpse of the realm we were just in a mere nine days ago immediately causes my blood to chill, and it has nothing to do with the cold wind I can feel whipping through the seam.

It’s where we lost Lucien, and it’s that emptiness that makes it feel so frigid.

We step through, one by one—Carrick, Maddox, Boral, and then me. When we’re through, I glance back to see Rainey crying as the seam closes up.

I pull my hood up over my head, which is already covered with a ski cap. The cold-weather gear is sufficient in keeping me warm. We move left around a large boulder to come out onto the shores of the dead ocean. The Crimson River seems almost blinding against the darkness of the mountains, skies, and the black sand on the beach. Its flow of lava meanders lazily away from the Underworld, traveling against gravity up one of the mountains.

Perhaps the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.

The roughly half-mile walk to the river is done in silence, but there’s not much to say. We hashed and re-hashed our plans. For example, we weren’t entirely sure there aren’t other creatures in Micah’s realm. While he had destroyed every living creature except for Charmeine, who he’d imprisoned in the gemstone, it doesn’t mean he didn’t create more to keep him company over the thousands of years he was here.

As such, we’re on alert as we walk along, and the lack of conversation helps us not catch the attention of any such beings that might be here, hungering for a tasty meal.

When we reach the river, the heat from the tortured, soul-infested lava keeps us from the very edge. We turn left and follow its bank toward the horizon. We walk for what seems like hours, but I know it’s not. It’s only my zeal to see my sister that has me impatient to make it to the Underworld.

When Carrick comes to a halt, we all do the same, moving from our single-file line to stand by his side. Up ahead, the river stops. Like it’s just sliced clean off this world against the backdrop of the eternal night sky. Normally, there’s no distinctive point of delineation between two realms separated by a veil, but in this instance, it’s very obvious there’s a separation. I wonder if it’s because Micah created this realm and then called forth the river into it.

“That’s the veil,” Boral says. “We’re here.”

“Fascinating,” I murmur as I start to walk closer, wondering if I can touch it. I can’t see it, as it looks like nothing but three-dimensional space that extends outward to a never-ending horizon where the ocean once was. I know if I continue forward, I’ll merely walk past the end of the river and could probably continue for eternity.

I’m stopped, though, when Carrick grabs the back of my jacket and turns me to face him. He shakes his head with an admonishing look. “Let’s not be wandering off, okay?”

Grinning sheepishly, I nod.

“This is where we’ll need a bridge to cross,” Boral announces, pointing toward the end of the river.

Boral had reiterated to us yesterday that the river drops down into The Pit, where tortured souls are thrown.

He also said that to the left of the river and the large hole that it flows into is where Kymaris experiments on her demon creations, and we most certainly do not want to come out there.

We need to cross the river and enter through the veil on the opposite side, which is a far less dangerous path into Otaxis.

“I’ve got this,” Maddox says, slapping his palms together and rubbing them.

“Let Finley,” Carrick replies in a low voice, his eyes locking on mine. “She needs to practice.”

I smile at his confidence in me. Moving as close to the edge of the river as I can get without getting singed, I stare into the molten liquid that is almost hypnotizingly beautiful. Swirls of red, gold, and orange move in thick currents past us ever so slowly. I turn to look back from where we came, seeing the mountain in the distance that the river ultimately climbs and disappears into. I wonder where it goes from there.

Looking back into the thick current, I wonder if Lucien is still in there. Is he in pain? Is he being tortured? Or is he nothing at all?

Shaking my head, I push those thoughts aside. My job is to get us across the river safely, and while I’m no engineer, I merely have to picture an arching bridge made of steel beams. I envision the bridge is solidly planted into the ground on this side of the river and the far side, imagining strong, lava-resistant posts supporting it all the way across.

“Wait a minute,” Maddox exclaims. “Why don’t we just magic ourselves to the other side? Bend distance or just fly ourselves over? Carrick and I can carry you two over safely.”