Chapter Fifteen

I snatched the Rose Stone, and every coherent thought flew from my head.

“Pretty paperweight,” said Melanie. “Where’d you get it?”

I drew a steadying breath. “I-I found it rooting through stuff at home and decided to bring it along for a good luck charm.”

“Hey, it’s the same as the gem in the painting. Did you use it for inspiration?”

“Sure. Right. She’s inspiration.” I stared at the Rose Stone, beaming a flurry of questions, but no gentle voice answered in my head.

Melanie regarded me with a quizzical expression. “Did you say she?”

“I meant to say it. Can we get going? This place gives me agita.” I dropped the tablet in my purse and hopped from bed with renewed vigor, the Rose Stone clutched tight in my fist. Lucky for me, the nurse had already detached the monitors because my heart beat a wild tattoo. How did this happen? Was it a good omen or bad? Either way, I needed answers.

Thanks to Dr. Turner, the pain in my limbs was gone. I walked with a steady gait and didn’t lean on the cane. Melanie chatted on the way home, and I grunted clipped responses, my attention fixed on the Rose Stone. I rubbed a thumb across the surface, willing answers to come but felt no corresponding warmth, other than the friction and heat from my hand. This Rose Stone was a dead ringer to the one in the Commonwealth, the same shape and weight. The Rose Stone in every way, but frustratingly quiet with no internal light.

I jumped in the seat as Melanie jabbed me in the ribs. “I said, do you want to stop for dinner?”

“What? Oh, no, I have food at home and I’m not hungry.”

I turned the Rose Stone over and over in my fingers. Melanie stopped trying to strike up a conversation, but now and then, shot me a curious look. To add to my frustration, she insisted on escorting me to the loft, but I only wanted to be alone with the Rose Stone.

“What’s the fascination with that thing?” she said as I unlocked the door. “You haven’t taken your eyes off it since the hospital.”

“Like I said, inspiration.”

Melanie pursed her lips together. “Those are my words. You only agreed. Now that I think about it, you seemed surprised to find it in the bed. Maybe you should put it away for a while.” She stepped toward me as if to take the Rose Stone from my hand.

“No!” I jumped back. Melanie’s eyes widened, and I blurted, “It feels good to hold her.”

“Her?”

“I mean it. I’m using it like those—what do you call them—worry beads. People fiddle with them and let worry slip through their fingers. This is mine.”

“Jess…” She didn’t look convinced.

I rubbed my brow. “It’s been a long day, Mel, and I’m beat. I’ve got the appointment with Dr. Turner tomorrow and I’m nervous. After all, my entire future is on the line, and it may be a very short one.” I clutched the Rose Stone tight to my chest. “I’ll take any little bit of comfort from wherever I can get it.” That, at least, was no lie.

The lines of concern around her eyes softened and she hugged me goodbye. “I understand. It’ll be okay. Owen is optimistic, I can tell.”

“Oh?” I teased. “Got a handle on his personal vibes so soon?”

Melanie made a face. “Shut up and go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I locked the door behind her and then sank into the couch. “We’re alone,” I whispered to the Rose Stone. “Please, talk to me. Are Griffin and the others okay?” I gazed deep into the facets, struggling to hear a response, but none came. An icy knot of fear settled in my stomach. The Rose Stone protected the Commonwealth, and somehow, I’d stolen her away. The darkling simply needed her to weaken enough for the boundary to fall and then multiple breaches would open. Had I done the dirty work for it and allowed everyone there to become prey for the carvers?

Images of the horror to befall the Commonwealth flashed in front of my eyes. In a millennium, would another portal open and explorers from a distant world arrive to find nothing but oddly shaped hills covering bones and debris?

So mired in grief, the slight tingle was imperceptible at first and then gentle pressure touched my hand. I jerked straight up. The traffic sounds outside my window muted, as I focused every ounce of attention on the Rose Stone.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “Speak to me.” From deep inside a facet came a tiny flicker of light. “You’re alive,” I choked out, swallowing a lump in my throat.

I am here.

“How did I bring you with me?”

Instead of an answer, the Rose Stone said, The knot of poison remains.

“I know. I didn’t have enough time to destroy it. I’m sorry.”

Illness saps your strength, and the cure cannot be found in the Commonwealth. When the time is right, my power is yours.

Understanding dawned on me. “I didn’t bring you; you chose to come with me. You think you can help me heal. Forget about the tumor; you can’t do anything. It’s more important to keep the Commonwealth safe. Does the boundary hold from here?”

For now. Her voice faded. The flicker disappeared.

“Wait! Are Griffin and the others alive? How do I get back? I have to find Griffin.”

My hand shook, and not from the tumor. “You shouldn’t have left. You should have stayed to protect them.”

No comfort came, but instead the weight of the day pressed on my shoulders. I experienced a sense of being poised on the brink, waiting for events to unfold. The next step was unclear, and I sagged with fatigue. Maybe sleep would bring me to Griffin. I staggered to bed, threw my clothes on the floor, and climbed under the covers. Still clutching the Rose Stone, I entered a dreamless sleep.

****

I woke the next morning, refreshed in body, but not in spirit. I hadn’t returned to the Commonwealth, no call came from Danya’s drum, not even a glimpse of Griffin’s face. An image rose of his body lying bloody on a field of carnage, carvers howling in triumph. Enraged, I brushed it aside. Until I had proof, Griffin was alive and waiting for me to return.

The Rose Stone lay on the pillow next to me, and I held her tight. “Griffin loves me. Those were the last words he said before I disappeared, but you know that. I love him, too. The kind of love I’ve always wanted but never believed possible. The true happily-ever-after kind, but I suppose you know that, too.”

I had gladly surrendered my heart to Griffin. My old life was fast becoming the dream, less real by the minute, and I filled with resolute purpose. No matter the cost, I’d find the way to the Commonwealth again and say the words to Griffin in person. Even if the strain on my body made it the last thing I did.

I gazed out the window. It was early, barely dawn. Melanie wasn’t due for a few hours yet. I jumped out of bed and quickly showered and dressed in a clean T-shirt and jeans. I kept the Rose Stone in my pocket with a strong need to feel her nearby. The hot water had done nothing to soothe my restless spirit, and I paced like a caged animal. The sketchbook caught my eye. I had tossed it on the couch the night before and now skimmed the pages. The new pictures I’d drawn at Paxton’s farm were there. The others remained the same…no, not quite. The shadowy form in the center of the Rose Stone was smaller and without a single tendril.

My spirits soared. I went to the easel, dismayed to see the ugly blot had returned to the painting. The amount of color I used hadn’t been enough, and it bled through, making a grotesque scar on the canvas. I grabbed a brush and palette knife and with savage swipes obliterated the stain on my creation. I added color, vibrant green leaves and masses of violet, crimson, and yellow. I stepped back and nodded in satisfaction. The blot was gone, and a garden with a flowered border took its place.

“Never to return,” I said with iron determination.

My hand moved of its own accord. Details filled the canvas without conscious thought. I added fields of grain, waving in a gentle breeze. Paxton grasped a hoe, surrounded by those beautiful blue and white blossoms, sunshine beamed from an azure sky. Warbirds soared over Abril and Bram. The Commonwealth flowed with life, and Griffin and I were in the middle of it. With a final swipe of the brush, I stepped back and surveyed my creation with pride. Not a taint of evil lingered. That was the way the Commonwealth was meant to be.

Edginess built inside me like a summer storm. Something was missing. The perimeter of the canvas seemed barren. I filled my brush with crimson and in the upper left corner painted a rose. It still felt lacking, so I added radiant green to make a colored vine that looped and entwined as it ran to the upper right corner. I painted another rose, smaller this time. Then a vine plummeting straight down to the lower right. Another delicate rose on the lower left, and vines linking the four roses together—one large blossom and three small, a single cohesive frame to encircle the painting.

Beads of sweat dotted my forehead, and I slipped off the smock and drew a steadying breath. The vines and roses had drawn color from the brush, but it also felt as if their creation absorbed energy from me. I stepped back to survey the finished picture. I never had the compulsion to put a border on a painting before, and this was oddly unbalanced, with the biggest rose in the upper left corner near Paxton.

The ceiling light flickered. A mere painting is no barrier to my glory.

I froze, heart racing, and stared at the light.

The lamp on the end table switched on. So did the TV. “The power brownouts continue,” said a newscaster. “A company spokesperson says technicians are working around the clock to resolve issues and expect the plant to return to normal operation soon.”

They do not see me. They cannot stop me. The lamp and TV clicked off. With a snap, a spark dislodged from an outlet and danced in the air. Return the stone. It belongs to me.

I stumbled back, my hand covered the pocket holding the Rose Stone. “Never.”

The spark flared. My handiwork.

I glared at it in disbelief. “You made the Rose Stone? Impossible.”

Ripples of hate rolled against me, staggering in their intensity. With the knowledge of the old ones, I built the stone to discover and control sources of new power. It disobeys my commands, but not for much longer. The tiny flame spit and crackled, and I flinched from the heat.

With a scowl, I brandished the palette knife. “You know what? I don’t care where the Rose Stone came from. Just try to take her from me.” The spark hung in the air. My heart thumped waiting for the attack. I was alone and except for a pathetically impractical palette knife, had no weapons. Nor did I have the ability to call on hidden energy sources. Without the guidance of the Rose Stone, I didn’t know how.

Seconds ticked away. The darkling and I squared off, neither giving an inch, and a suspicion began to take shape. “You can’t take her by force. I broke those tendrils, and that weakened you.”

My power stretches thin to this place but holds strong in the other. As we speak, breaches form. Soon carvers ravage the land. War machines follow. The world will burn to cinders. I am immortal.

“You are buried in the wires, hiding,” I sneered. “But I’ll find a way to kill you.”

Your power isn’t great enough, nor is that of the stone.

The appalling truth hit me like a slap in the face. The darkling was right. I had called upon the Rose Stone in the battle against the tendrils, but that weakened her, too.

The stone cannot protect both worlds. I have traveled the wires here, tasting the spark. The power comes slowly, but it comes, and soon every bit will be at my command. This world has nothing to equal the stone, but it will feed me for a time.

“We’ll fight.”

And lose. Bring the stone to me and I vow to leave this world forever.

“You lie,” I spit out.

I never lie. I have no need.

I believed every vile word. “And the Commonwealth?”

Ties with the stone must be severed, and those who stand against me destroyed. Then there will be no purpose for the stone. I will give it purpose. It will answer to me and hunt the spark forever. This world or that world. One dies and one lives. You choose.

“I-I can’t take the Rose Stone to you,” I stammered. “I don’t know how to get from here back to the Commonwealth.”

Find the way or your world ends.

I jumped at a knock on the door. “Jess, are you ready?” called Melanie.

She has importance to you. The dispassionate statement of fact sent warning bells firing off in my head.

“Get out,” I ordered the darkling between clenched teeth. “We’re done here.”

“Jess?” said Melanie, rattling the knob. “Who are you talking to?”

“Shouting at the TV. I hate conservative news shows, nothing but a bunch of fascists.” I snatched my purse and yanked open the door. “Let’s go.”

Melanie startled, her hand on the knob. “Um, okay. I’m early, though. We have time for coffee. I can make a pot.”

“We’ll stop on the way.”

“Okay,” she said with a quizzical look, hand still on the doorknob.

The spark oozed through the lock and streaked toward Melanie. There was a loud snap. “Ow!” Melanie jumped and shook her fingers. “Wow, that hurt.” I gaped in horror, but from Melanie’s unfazed expression, she clearly didn’t see it hovering in the air, inches from her face.

These creatures are so fragile, crooned the darkling.

“Stop it,” I hissed.

“Stop what?” said Melanie.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

So sensitive to pain.

The spark dove toward Melanie again. Snap! She grimaced. “Geez, that smarts, and I wasn’t even touching the knob this time. You’ve got a real static electricity issue in here. Maybe you should get a humidifier.”

Their hearts depend on the spark. So easy to start, so easy to stop.

I shoved Melanie into the hall, slammed the door shut, and locked it. “Let’s go.”

“Your cane—”

“I’m fine. Don’t need it today.”

“What’s the big rush?” sputtered Melanie, as I half-dragged her down the stairs.

I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder, but the darkling had vanished. “Nothing. I’m eager to get going and hear what Dr. Turner has to say.”

Melanie smiled. “You’re optimistic, aren’t you? So am I. Jess, I believe this treatment is going to work. Have you had any pain medication today?”

“No,” I said as I got into the car. “I haven’t needed it yet.”

“That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Sure.” As the car pulled from the curb, I peered up at the loft’s windows and suppressed a shiver. “I’m totally optimistic about the future.”

We went to the drive-thru at the coffee shop. “Have you heard more about the power outages?” I asked as we waited for our order.

“The news reported a few scattered across the city, but they ended in seconds. I haven’t noticed any. They must have nearly run their course.”

My fingers drummed on the armrest. Despite the boast, the darkling didn’t have unlimited power. Maybe it was stretched thin, struggling to balance between worlds. Time, time, time. The lack of it beat against me as surely as Danya’s drum. Even if the darkling’s attack was delayed, it would eventually control the grid, feed on the energy, and renew the assault on the Commonwealth.

I tensed at every stoplight, fearing they’d turn green at the same time and cause massive pileups. To my relief, nothing happened. Meanwhile, the darkling bided its time, building power, waiting for me to choose. My chest muscles knotted so tight it was hard to breathe, as the fate of two worlds pressed on my shoulders. I wrapped my hands around the cup, hoping the heat seeping into them would jumpstart inspiration, but no such luck.

I glanced at Melanie. How could I warn her? She turned her head, caught my eye, and gave a puzzled smile. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I-I just wanted to say thanks for everything you’ve done. You’ve been my best friend since we were kids and have always stood by me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“I can say the same of you. Remember those late-night study sessions in med school when I swore I was drowning in text books? I’d call you for moral support and then suddenly you’d be at the door with coffee, junk food, and a sympathetic ear. Once, you even cut out on a date. I ragged on you for that.”

“He was no big deal, and frankly, I think he was relieved.” I gave her a sharp look. “Owen Turner is a big deal. Have you asked him out?”

Melanie blushed. “You’re awfully pushy about Owen. This isn’t the right time to talk about him.”

I grabbed her arm. “Promise me, Mel, you’ll ask him out soon. Forget about it being the right time. No one knows how much time they have left. He’s shy and you can’t wait for him to make a move.”

“You should have only the treatment on your mind now,” she chided. “Why the sudden interest in my love life?”

“Because Owen Turner will make you happy. I’m certain he’s the one you’ve been searching for. When you find a man as perfect as that, you have to hang on tight to him and never let go. You deserve happily ever after.”

“So do you,” she said gently.

I don’t know how to get mine back. I blinked away tears. Not here, not now. “Promise me.”

“All right. I promise. As soon as I’m sure you’ve made a full recovery. Until then, I can’t think of anything else.”

I relaxed in the seat. I dropped Melanie’s hand and rested mine lightly on the pocket with the Rose Stone inside. Melanie never broke a promise to me. She would ask out Dr. Turner and they’d fall headfirst in love. I saw everything clearly; my best friend’s future was set.

The smile faded from my lips. A happily ever after would never last with the darkling poised to strike. One thing was certain, I’d never sacrifice one world for another, both were part of me. There had to be a way to save them.

I slipped a hand into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the Rose Stone, concentrating my thoughts on her. Take whatever you need from me, and we’ll find a solution together.

Dr. Turner met us at the MRI. His face lit up when I told him I had no pain. I went to the changing room and slipped into hospital scrubs. I tucked the Rose Stone in the waistband and tried not to think where I would have had to hide it if the outfit were a gown instead of scrubs. I tied the drawstring tight. Fortunately, scrubs are hardly form fitting.

I shot a glance around as the technician readied the MRI. There was no sign of the darkling since we left the loft, and anticipation built inside me. The last time I was shoved in one of these contraptions, I woke in the Commonwealth. The technician asked if I wanted medication to relax me.

“Yes, please,” I said.

In a half-drowsy state, the sound of Danya’s drumbeat would surely carry me along the path to the Commonwealth. The technician returned with a pill and a glass of water. I swallowed it down and then lay on the table, the Rose Stone pressing into my side. The MRI table slid into position, and dopey lethargy clouded my mind as the drug kicked in. I was floating, lighthearted. Any minute now, I’d be back with Griffin. The banging from the machine rattled around in my head. I closed my eyes and pictured his face.

Yup, any minute now.

Time ticked away, but nothing happened. Why was it taking so long? I licked my lips and shifted my hand over the Rose Stone.

“Please remain still,” said the technician through the intercom.

I listened hard for Danya’s drum, but the only sound was the incessant banging of the MRI. The last image I had of Griffin played over and over in my mind. He faced the carvers. They rushed toward him claws outstretched, ready to rip apart flesh and bone.

The brassy taste of fear flooded my mouth. An awful thought clung to me that the carvers broke past Griffin, Bram, and Abril. They entered the portal. Danya didn’t drum because Danya was no more.

The banging stopped. I opened my eyes, and my heart sank. I hadn’t budged an inch from the MRI tube.

“That’s it,” said the technician, as the table retracted. “You’re finished.” So had my chance to return to the Commonwealth.

Melanie sat in the booth and leaned over the mic. “I’ll meet you in Owen’s office.”

I waved an acknowledgment in her direction and hurried to the dressing room to discard the scrubs. I peered into the Rose Stone with rising dread. “Why are we still here? Please, tell me it isn’t too late.” Then I asked the question I feared most. “Is Griffin alive?” No answer came, but I caught a glimmer among the facets that gave me a surge of hope. It might only be wishful thinking, Danya’s favorite kind, but I held onto it.

I paused at Dr. Turner’s door to steady my nerves and then entered. He and Melanie huddled over a computer monitor. She jumped up to greet me with a big smile on her face. “Don’t look so glum,” she burst out. “I’ll let Owen explain the details, but…” She grabbed me in a bear hug. “The treatment is working, Jess. Better than we ever dreamed.”

A tumult of emotions crashed in on me. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and sank into a chair, unable to speak.

Dr. Turner had the same beaming smile as Melanie. “The scan looks fantastic. The improvement is incredible. I’ve never had such a positive result. Look.” He turned the monitor around. I was too familiar with the sight of my rotten brain with the glowing mass in the center, but the image had definitely changed. The tumor was half the size, every tendril gone, identical in shape to the remainder of the poison knot in the Rose Stone.

“This explains the lack of pain in your limbs,” said Melanie. “How’s the headache?”

“Nonexistent,” I said feeling numb and spent.

“I’m beyond pleased,” said Dr. Turner. “The success with other patients was nothing as dramatic as this. The whole process was much slower and took more treatments. It’s as if an added ingredient jumpstarted the healing.”

I placed my hand on my pocket, the comforting shape of the Rose Stone nestled underneath. Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them back. The special ingredient was right here. That’s why the Rose Stone was so drained of energy. I swallowed hard. “T-that’s good news.”

“The best.” He shot a glance at Melanie. “So good, in fact, I’m going to schedule your surgery for tomorrow.”

I blinked. “So soon?”

“Yes. The medication didn’t destroy the tumor but made it accessible. Ordinarily, I’d order additional treatment to shrink it further, but…” Dr. Turner’s gaze went to the scan, his expression creased with worry.

My internal alarms screamed. “But what?” I demanded.

“The new scan shows unexpected strain on nearby blood vessels. Since it’s possible to operate now, I want to remove the tumor at once. If we wait, it’ll start to grow again, and this time affect blood flow to the brain. When that happens…” He shot Melanie another wary look. “I’ll be candid. The operation is feasible, but dangerous. I wish we had more time.”

“Time hasn’t been my friend lately,” I said dryly. “But I trust your judgement. I’m ready.”

Melanie put her hand on top of mine and gave a little squeeze. “I’ll be right there with you every step of the way.”

“Go home and pack a bag and then hurry back,” Dr. Turner said. “I want you checked into the hospital as soon as possible. I’ll schedule the operation for the first thing tomorrow morning.”

Melanie and I were quiet on the drive home, both wrapped in our own thoughts. She helped me pack. I tossed my sketchbook on top and patted the Rose Stone in my pocket for good luck. We returned to the hospital, and I went to my room to settle in for the night.

“I’ll take your purse home with me,” said Melanie. “You won’t need it for a while.”

“Fine, but I’m counting my money first—even the nickels. You have sticky fingers.”

“Wow, so funny. Now, get some rest. They’ll prep you before dawn.”

I fingered the Rose Stone. “Will you be in the operating room with me?”

“Yes. I already got permission from Owen.”

“If this procedure works, how long will I be out of it?”

“Hard to say, a day or longer. You’ll be heavily sedated.”

I gazed at the Rose Stone. “May I keep this with me during surgery?”

“I can hold it for you.”

“Please, Mel, as a good luck charm. I-I really need to touch it.”

Her expression softened. “I’ll be back in the morning and make sure it’s in your hand. Good night, Jess.”

No solid food for the patient allowed, but a nurse came in with flavored gelatin in case I developed an appetite. I politely refused. Stress and worry took a toll on me and left no desire to eat. Besides, I hated the nasty stuff and wouldn’t touch it even if I was starving, let alone as a last meal. I crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling, clenching the Rose Stone tight to my chest, hoping for answers. None came, and I was too stressed to sleep. I tossed and turned for hours, dozing off for a few minutes and then jerking awake. A tight ball of anxiety settled in my stomach, and I finally called it quits while still dark outside on what was either the last day of my old sick life or the first day of a new healthy one.

I took out my sketchbook and flipped to the page with Griffin as a youngster riding Cirrus. My finger traced the outline of the drawing as I sought respite for my troubled heart, but none came.

The door opened, and Melanie and Dr. Turner entered. “Hey, you’re awake. Sleep well?” Melanie asked.

“Nope,” I said, tossing the sketchbook aside. “Let’s get this circus started.”

Other medical personnel arrived to insert IVs and attach monitors. My heart pounded, nerves shredded raw. Melanie wiped the Rose Stone with antiseptic and fixed her to my palm with surgical tape. “There, safe and sound. It’ll be with you through the whole operation.”

I had no fear and took comfort in the touch of the Rose Stone. “Just you and me,” I whispered. “We’ll fight this together.”

The light over the bed flickered, and my mouth dried.

Dr. Turner looked at the ceiling with a frown. “I thought we were done with those brownouts. Despite the backup generator, I’m leery of continuing with the operation if the power quits. We can delay a day.”

“It flickered, but it’s fine now,” said Melanie.

Bring me the stone or she dies. A spark shot from an outlet and landed on Melanie’s hand where it rested on the bedframe.

Crack! Melanie jumped back, clutching her shirt. “Wow, that hurt. My heart skipped a beat.”

Bring me the stone or she dies before you!

“I told you I don’t know how,” I shouted. Everyone stared at me as I struggled to get out of bed and attack the spark hovering in the air.

Dr. Turner rushed to my side and pinned back my shoulders. “Don’t move. You’ll pull out the IVs.”

The spark brushed lightly against Melanie’s arm, and she flinched.

“Leave her alone,” I yelled. “Melanie, the darkling is here. It’s after you. Don’t touch anything metal.”

Bring me the stone!

“It’s okay, Jess,” soothed Melanie, her voice breaking. “It was static. There’s nothing here.”

“It’s a spark, only I can see it. It’s not a hallucination. Just now you felt the darkling touch you.”

Melanie shot a desperate look at Dr. Turner. He barked orders to a nurse, and she injected a liquid into the IV. Warm lethargy spread across my body. They didn’t believe me. I couldn’t protect them.

Bring me the stone!

“I don’t know how to get back,” I mumbled. My lips went numb, and it was hard to speak. “Don’t worry, Mel. I’ll stop it or die…”

“Jess, relax,” Melanie said in a trembling voice.

“Get her to OR stat,” ordered Dr. Turner. There was a flurry of voices, and I felt the bed move.

The spark stabbed at my hand. An arrow of fiery pain rocketed up my arm and into my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

You die first and then your world burns.

Unchained energy rushed from the Rose Stone through the surgical tape and into my fingers, my arms, my shoulders. I embraced the power, directing healing waves at my chest, snuffing the pain like a candlewick.

Crimson haze blurred my vision. Voices faded away. “We’re losing her,” shouted Dr. Turner.

“Griffin,” I whispered. “Find me.” A light shone through the haze and Griffin called, “I am here.”

****

“Be easy, I’ve sent for him. He’s inspecting the front line.”

“The front?” I mumbled and opened my eyes to a flood of happiness. Lady Emlyn hovered over me. “I’m back.” I sat up, weak with relief. No longer in a crumbling ruin, but on a cot in a tent. “Where are Griffin and the others? I left them fighting carvers—”

“They’re alive, massing with the rest of the forces. I’ve sent word to the captain.”

My heart flooded with happiness as the tent flap jerked aside and Griffin entered. I jumped to my feet, and he gathered me in his arms. “I feared I’d lost you.”

I clung to him. “But you didn’t give up. I felt your heart out there.”

“And I felt yours.” His lips met mine, and fears for the future vanished. No matter what happened, Griffin loved me.

“Ahem.” Lady Emlyn looked at us with a gleam in her eye.

I flushed. “Sorry. I don’t suppose this is the right time or place.” I glanced down, suddenly aware of the hospital gown. “Or outfit.”

Danya entered with an armload of clothing and put them on the cot. “The drum said you returned, and I assumed you needed these. It’s good to see you again.”

“And you.” I hugged her tight. “The last sight I had was through the portal. I was afraid the carvers reached you.”

“Not yet.” Her solemn tone stirred a chill.

I turned to Griffin. “Abril and Bram?”

“Safe. The portal opened as the carvers rushed the corridor and then shut immediately after we entered. When we reached the other side, you were gone. Since then, breaches have occurred one after another. Dozens of carvers forced their way into the Commonwealth.”

“War machines?”

“Not yet, but they will assuredly come. So far, the Rose Guard has stopped the carvers’ advance, but enemy numbers are increasing. We can’t hold the line much longer. Now that you’ve returned with the Rose Stone, we have a chance.”

I had forgotten about the Rose Stone and peered at my hand. The surgical tape was loose, a section distended. I ripped it off and saw nothing but my empty palm. In a panic, I patted down my clothing, but the hospital gown didn’t have pockets. The horrific truth struck me with the strength of a two-by-four. “The Rose Stone is gone.”