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When Shaye awoke, she found herself in a tent surrounded by lanterns and candlelight. The bed she was on was covered in warm furs and strewn with feather-filled pillows. Confusion washed over her. Her whole body ached, and when she tried to sit up, her chest screamed in pain.
She looked around in awe and confusion at the finery inside of the tent. Lush pillows sat on a chaise lounge by the corner, on top of an elaborate rug. There was a large wooden desk covered in papers and a grand round table in the middle of the tent with a map laid across it. She pushed through the pain and went to the map, looking around for signs of anyone lurking in the shadowy corners as she crossed the space.
The detail on the map was incredible; she recognized it as a map of Asterion that even included shading where the blight had spread. To her horror, she realized it had spread further south, overtaking the southernmost border of Norbrach.
She needed to warn Sorin. She turned to look for him, and put a hand to her mouth as she remembered the events from earlier in the day. She recalled the argument with Sorin and the look of betrayal on his face as she had listened to Bastian. It was hard to know what to believe anymore. All she knew was that she had lost herself in her anger. A vision of Sorin falling to his knees in the blast sent her stumbling back.
Silent tears ran down her face and she saw her reflection in a tall mirror across the tent; someone had washed her and changed her out of her filthy clothes. She was wearing a sleek black dress now, made of expensive silk. It sparkled in the candlelight, reminding her faintly of the dream she’d had of her and Bastian in the ballroom where they had danced. She touched the smooth fabric that clung to the curves of her body, and when the reflection of her hand caught her eye, she cried out. The tips of her fingers were as black as midnight. Oh Fates, what have I done? In her panic she ran for the flaps of the tent’s entrance. Sorin. Where is Sorin?
The second she stepped out of the tent, she was flanked by two armed guards. They were dressed in sickly green cloaks that shined like oil and they put their hands on the hilts of their swords when they saw her. Black hands. No. No. No. This isn’t happening. He was right. Sorin, I need to get to Sorin. Her head was spinning and every muscle in her body screamed in pain and exhaustion. There had been a blast... I was the blast.
She put her hands to her head, then held them out in front of her, moving them under the dim moonlight. Her fingers were black, and she only knew of one thing that could have caused that. But I would never do that. I would never hurt them. She let out a frustrated sob and turned to the men. Through gritted teeth, she demanded, “Bring me to him.”
“No need, love.” Bastian stood a few feet away, unscathed from her attack in the abandoned camp.
“Explain yourself, you son of a bitch!” She moved on him, but a force blocked her path. She looked at the guards, who had not moved an inch. But she noticed each had a black hand extended in front of them, they were using their magic to protect him. She would not have the strength to fight them, and insults would get her nowhere. More softly, she pleaded, “Please, Bastian, tell me what happened.”
He motioned for the Nefari beside her to lower the magic field and they obeyed immediately. She looked around at the neat rows of tents and the men and women standing outside, watching the heated exchange. A hush had fallen over the camp and Shaye felt panic rising in her.
It was an army; he had organized an army of dark Magi to destroy Asterion. She noticed then that he was holding the Stave. It was in one piece again, no sign that it had ever been split. Its smooth wood stood tall in Bastian’s hand, not even a splinter out of place. She had delivered the relic into the hands of their enemy.
“We are not your enemy, Shaye.” He spoke out loud, as if he had read her thoughts. Anger rose in her. How dare he bring her here; she needed to find Sorin, to know that he and the others were okay. How had she let her hatred overtake her like that? She had trusted them, known that they were not her enemy, and still she had turned on them.
Bastian approached her. “They’re fine. I know you are worried about them. But don’t you see? You do not have to hide who you are anymore. Not with me. I know what it’s like to not want anyone to see.”
She backed a step away from him. “To see what?” Angry tears filled her eyes.
“Through the cracks. We all have them.” He gestured to the Nefari surrounding them in the camp. He was inching toward her slowly like she was a wounded animal in the woods, and he was the hungry predator ready to feast.
“Yes, I suppose we do. Some a little deeper than others, wouldn’t you agree, Bastian?” Defiance was once again growing within her. Her body still ached, but she would fight if she had to.
He chuckled and closed in on her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the tent roughly. She struggled under his grip. She would not make this easy for him. She would let him know that she was stronger than the little girl he remembered from childhood. And though he was right, she was broken and cracked, she was not beyond repair. She would fix the mess she had made, even if it meant leaving him in pieces.
They were alone in the military-styled tent now, but she still sensed the guards outside and knew there was nowhere for her to run. He motioned for her to sit, but she did not obey. Instead, she stood stubbornly, arms crossed and chin raised.
“Shaye, please, I never meant to deceive you. But you weren’t ready for the truth.” He removed the leather gloves from his hands and Shaye’s heart dropped. Black hands, all the way to the wrist. It looked as if someone had poured black ink over them. His fingers were completely black, but as it came closer to his wrist, lines intertwined allowing for a glimpse of pale skin underneath. How had she not noticed it before? She had been so blinded by her need to pick up where they had left off, that she had allowed herself to ignore all the signs.
He poured an amber liquid from the decanter on his desk. A glass for each of them. Shaye looked around the tent for another exit; maybe she could get him drunk and sneak away once he was asleep. As she looked for an escape, a snarl came from behind her.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He loves a good chase, and I’m not sure you have enough left in you to run, after what you did back at our old camp.”
Shaye turned to find herself standing face to face with the Black Shuck from the stables. He bared his teeth and snapped, as if daring her to make a run for it.
“You’re his master. It was you who set him loose on Sorin in the stables. Did you have him attack you as well? The night that you came to us?”
Bastian handed her the drink, downing his and then motioning for her to do the same. She drank obediently, still eyeing the canine as it stalked over to Bastian’s side. He fed it some meat from a half-eaten plate and ignored her accusation.
“Sorin was right, you’re Nefari.” She knew she should be surprised but something deep in her gut told her she had always known. “It wasn’t exhaustion or stress that was causing my headaches and loss of memory, was it? It was you. How could you do that to me?”
The Black Shuck stalked over to her, saliva dripping from its mouth. She sat then, drink in hand. Bastian whistled at the beast, making him sit on his hind legs in front of her.
“You weren’t ready before, but you are now. You see them for what they really are: traitors and oppressors. When I realized we had amassed enough power and numbers for an assault, I knew I needed you with me. But I had never imagined you would come to me at the Winter Palace. Destiny has brought us back together, Shaye. It was a gift from The Mother herself. Sure, you resisted more than I had expected. Sending you those dreams wasn’t enough to turn you to me, though we did come remarkably close that night in the Raven Wood. I honestly thought you would jump from that cliff and into my grasp.”
“That was you in the fog? You manipulated me.”
“I apologize for that. But with you, the last of your Druid bloodline, we can wield the relics. I can teach you to combine divine magic with blood magic, making you more powerful than any other in the continent. No one would dare stand against us.” His eyes burned into hers and she began to lose her train of thought. She could not think straight with him here.
“Go to hell.” She moved to get up, to get away from him, but he knelt before her, planting his black hands firmly on her thighs.
He caressed them as he snarled, “Sweetheart, I am hell.”
Shaye struggled to gather her thoughts, something had been in that drink... She dropped it to the floor, spilling the last drops of liquid on the intricate rug. Bastian moved closer to her, his mouth lingering in front of hers. “We will rule this wretched country together. Humans and Magi around the world will kneel before us, just as I kneel before you now. Once we hold the remaining relic, we will be unstoppable.”
She leaned toward him, her head was spinning... She just wanted it to stop.
“That’s right, Shaye, give in to it. Take the power that is yours by birthright. Harness your nightmares and make the world feel the fear that you have endured for so long.”
As he spoke, something in her mind tugged at her, trying to make her remember. A boy with deep blue eyes like the sea during a storm.
“Shaye.” Bastian grabbed her chin, making her look at him. “It was me. It was always me. Let go of him. This is where you belong now.” He kissed her; it was not a kiss of longing and love but one of hunger and possession. When he pulled back from her, his eyes were dark; the whites were no longer there, instead it was just an empty pool of black... A reflection of his soul and what the black magic had done to it.
Her heart ached for someone. Someone who had danced with her in a dusty library in the dim light of the moon. Someone who had believed in her. Her mind was growing foggy, and no matter how hard she fought, she could not recall who it had been. Bastian’s soothing voice echoed in her mind: it was a dream. It was all a dream. And with that, she let go, giving herself into the darkness.