Darklands

Sick at heart, I looked away.



“I will make you a deal,” said Mallt-y-Nos, squinting at me through aged, cloudy eyes.



“I don’t think so. Our last deal didn’t work out so well.”



“Bring me the falcon, and I will release the werewolf from his servitude.”



My heartbeat sped up. “You won’t force Kane to be a hellhound?”



“Not if you return the falcon to me. Alive.”



I watched her face as it moved through death and back to youth. I had no clue where the falcon could be, but maybe I could locate it. Maybe it would come back to me, as the hag assumed. Still, something about this deal—something beyond the fact that the Night Hag was proposing it—felt wrong to me. My gut didn’t like it.



Then I remembered. Mab said the white falcon was mentioned in the prophecies. Whatever was coming in the battle with Pryce and his demons, the falcon was involved. As much as I wanted Kane’s freedom, I could not risk interfering with destiny. I would not trade away the lives of millions of people. Kane wouldn’t want me to.



Slowly, I shook my head. “The falcon is not mine to give you.”



The Night Hag screamed with rage. Her horse reared, her hellhounds cowered. When she spoke, it was from the blank face of a skull with fire burning in its eye sockets.



“Know this, Victory Vaughn. I am on the hunt for you. I and all my hounds. We will not rest until we run you down. Beware the next full moon.”



She wheeled her horse around and left the way she came. Her hounds followed. And then I was alone in an empty room.



ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON THE GOONS HAD A FEW QUESTIONS before they let me out of quarantine. The big one: Pryce’s body had disappeared—did I know anything about it? Sure. His connection with the Destroyer had allowed him to travel into the demon plane, but how could I explain that? Instead, I reminded them I’d been in quarantine for a week and didn’t know a thing beyond the triple-locked door of this cabin.



We went over my official cover story what felt like a million times: I’d hit my head in a fall, been in the hospital as Jane Doe for a week, and had regained consciousness this morning. The hospital in question had all the records, as well as staff who’d swear I’d been there. Reminding me of the dire penalties I faced if I told anyone the truth about Pryce’s plague attack—penalties like disappearing into Goon Squad custody for a whole hell of a lot longer than a week—they finally let me go.



They’d brought the Jag for me and parked it out front. When I walked through the gate, a man leaned on my car. Kane.



I didn’t run to him. He didn’t throw open his arms. He stood there with his arms folded, looking…haunted. But he’d come.



Looking around the parking lot, I didn’t see his car. “How did you get here?” So many questions tumbling through my mind, so many things I wanted to say, and that’s what came out of my mouth.



“Taxi,” he said, then shrugged like a sixty-mile cab ride from Boston to the middle of nowhere was something he did every day. “Juliet told me you’d be getting out today. And I thought…” His voice trailed off, and a pained look flickered behind his eyes. “I thought I’d like to be here, maybe keep you company on the ride back to town. That okay?”



I nodded, not trusting my voice.



We rode in silence. More than once I started to speak, but it felt like talking would break something fragile. He reached over and laid his hand on my leg. I covered it with my own. For the moment, it was enough to have him beside me.



It was getting dark as we passed through the checkpoints into Deadtown. Zombies were beginning to venture out for the night. I pulled over in front of Kane’s building and cut the engine. He put his hand on the door handle but didn’t open it.



“I resigned from Simone’s campaign,” he said. “It’s going to be a tough year.”



I nodded. I wanted to tell him I knew how much of a sacrifice he’d made for me, but I couldn’t find the words.



The silence stretched.



“Vicky, what I said on top of that mountain—”



“Don’t.” I wanted to spare him the awkwardness of taking it back. “It’s all right.”



His eyes sparked. “No, it’s not. And I’m not going to leave this unsaid. I meant it, Vicky. I meant it then and I mean it now. There will be times when you don’t believe that—when you can’t believe that—but I swear it’s the truth.” He got out of the car and closed the door. He strode up the steps, but before he made it to the front door, I was out of the car and running up beside him.



“Kane.”



He turned around. His eyes held pain and misery and more suffering than I could bear to see. But there was something else there, too. Love. After he’d seen the Destroyer in me, after he’d endured the anguish of running with the Night Hag, he still loved me.



Of all the times he’d come for me—running into danger, crossing the ocean or between the worlds—the short trip to Princeton and back meant the most.



“I…I feel the same way,” I said, and the love in his eyes grew stronger than the pain. “Whatever happens.”



We met in a kiss that said everything we’d struggled to express. And more, far more.



Kane was right. It was going to be a tough year. But we’d get through it. When the Night Hag tried to break him, I’d build him up again. Whatever happened. Because Kane was right about something else, too. Together, we were unbeatable.



THE WEATHER TURNED BEAUTIFUL FOR FAMILY DAY. IT WAS the kind of spring day—soft air, warm sunshine, scents of grass and flowers—that made people believe the long New England winter might finally be over. After lunch in the park, I sat at the picnic table, talking with Mom and Gwen, watching Nick and the kids kick around a soccer ball. Zack showed off for his baby brother, as Justin stood on the sidelines and watched, his thumb in his mouth. Maria, with her long legs, ran like a gazelle. And it wouldn’t be much longer before she could run as a gazelle, if she wanted to.



“Maria had another false-face episode this morning.” Gwen actually smiled as she said it.



“She told me. A walrus, right?”



Gwen nodded. “It was so different from last time. She took a picture of herself right away, so she knew not to be scared. Then she started playing around.”



“She was so funny.” Mom laughed. “She stood in front of the mirror making walrus faces. She got Justin and Zack making them, too. Then suddenly she said, ‘My tusks are gone!’ and asked what was for breakfast.”



“Well,” Gwen said, “it’s hard to eat cereal with tusks, after all.”



I was glad Mom was here. Gwen and Maria were both more relaxed, and I didn’t feel like I was tiptoeing through some minefield between them.



“Look,” said Mom, pointing. “There’s that bird.”



I twisted around to see, then caught my breath. In a tree at the edge of the park perched a large white falcon.



“You’ve seen it before?” I asked.



“It’s been around the neighborhood for the past week or so,” Gwen said. “We thought maybe it was migrating.”



The falcon sat statue-still. It seemed to fix its stare on me.



Could it be the Hellsmoor falcon? Huge white birds of prey aren’t exactly common in the suburbs. Maybe I could buy Kane’s freedom after all.



If only I knew how this bird fit with the prophecies. So far, the book had been silent about that.



“Aunt Vicky!” called Maria. “Come and play. You can be on my team.”



“Okay.” As I stood, the falcon took wing. It circled once over the park, then flew away. The soccer ball rolled my way, and I joined in the game.



FAMILY DAY LASTED THROUGH SUPPER AND INTO THE EVENING. When the kids had gone to bed, I said my good-byes, promising to visit again in a few days. Out in the driveway, I was opening the door of the Jag when a voice said, “That engine is sounding a bit chuggy. When’s the last time she had a tune-up?”



It was my father’s voice. And it was coming from overhead.



I looked up. The white falcon perched on the garage roof. “Hi, Vic,” it said.



I should have been speechless. But I managed one syllable: “Dad?”



The falcon flew down and landed beside me on the ground. He hopped through the open car door and perched behind the steering wheel. Then the bird that sat in the driver’s seat of my car opened his beak and laughed my father’s laugh. “I never thought I’d be sitting here again. Too bad I can’t reach the pedals.” He looked at me with rainbow-colored eyes. Like the eyes of the Keeper who’d been brought back to life by magic. “Let’s go for a ride,” he said. “Just a quick spin around the block.”



The falcon—Dad—hopped over to the passenger seat. I got behind the wheel and started the car. “How…?” I couldn’t even begin to put words to my question.



“Drive, and I’ll explain. I don’t want the family coming out to see why you haven’t left yet.”



I backed the Jag into the street. “Does Mom know?”



“Not yet. Don’t tell her. I want to let her know in my own time.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why you told me she’d gotten old. She’s still a beautiful woman.”



Even to a shapeshifter, this was weird. During a shift, the animal takes over. It has an animal brain; it follows impulses and instincts. It doesn’t hold conversations and try to drive a car.



I steered down the street. “Okay, Dad, we’re driving. Explain.”



“You knew how much I wanted out of that place, Vic. But on my own terms, not as a whitewashed soul poured into some brand-new infant body.”



“A falcon’s body is better?”



“Yes, because I’m still me—my personality, my mind, my memories. I changed bodies, but I kept everything that was important. That’s what I wanted, ever since I landed in the Darklands. So on that first day, when you told me about the Night Hag’s demands, I thought maybe I had a chance. With the cauldron of transformation returned to Tywyll, maybe I could transform myself and hitch a ride out on the white falcon.”