Spring

Pushing aside my horror, I fling open the final door to the tunnels . . . perhaps a bit too quickly. Damp air clogs my lungs as we file into the wet darkness. The sound of water trickling down the stone walls rushes over me.

Gaelic symbols are woven into the stone, their meager glow just enough to illuminate the winding, mazelike burrows.

“Do you see any darklings?” I ask Mack, who’s peering down at her GPS, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Not that I can tell.” She stares at the screen a moment longer before declaring, “It’s clear.”

I exhale. It’s working.

But it’s still too early to celebrate.

Adjusting the spear case strapped to my backstrap, I check my wrist-mounted crossbow one more time. “Let’s go.”

Before I can move a step, Valerian presses the flat palm of his hand against my lower back. Just for a second—long enough to remind me he’s here by my side.

A sense of purpose swells in my chest. As Guardian and Keeper, we share a different kind of bond than the one created by magic. A bond of tentative trust between two people from completely different races, born of promise and forged by blood, sweat, tears, and the singular need not to die.

Which is pretty freaking motivating right now.

For the first time since I entered the academy, I understand the deep pride some Guardians take in protecting their Fae Keepers.

Without a word, we break into a sprint. Just like we’ve been taught, Mack and I position ourselves on the outside of the group, a few meters ahead. Technically, Valerian and Asher could run ten times faster than our breakneck pace, but they keep time with us.

In a real situation, the most powerful Evermore like Valerian and Asher could create a portal to whisk us away, but most Evermore aren’t that powerful.

Especially when it comes to portals strong enough to transport more than one person.

The minutes drag by, the walls a blur of shadows and glowing symbols. Our footfalls are soft, the quiet broken only by the rush of our breathing and the occasional splash of a puddle.

All too soon, the final tunnel comes into view. A latticework of symbols lights up the other side. Eternal flames of light green magic gutter from giant torches placed on either end.

A single ladder crawls up to the streets above.

As we near the torches, Mack and I go over the map.

She taps a finger over a spot on the GPS screen. “We’re here—I think. It”—she zooms in—“looks like the tunnel will come up right at the feet of Abe himself.”

My brain, fuzzy from adrenaline and fear, conjures an image of a giant statue.

“It was easier to erect portals near places where hundreds of humans passed through,” Asher says. “The residual energy amplifies the power of the portal.”

A portal large enough to funnel thousands of fleeing Fae souls would have to be massive, and would require a butt-load of magic. I’m almost disappointed it’s no longer active. That would have been an impressive sight.

“Makes sense,” I say as I take hold of the first bar on the ladder.

As Shadow Guardian for the highest ranking Evermore in the group, it’s my job to go first. I’m not exactly thrilled about it, but at least if anything’s waiting on the other side, it will be me the darklings shred to bits, not Mack.

Valerian’s gaze snaps to my hand on the ladder. In a flash, his primal urge to protect me takes over and he’s rushing toward me.

I bristle, fully prepared to argue. I can do this. I have to do this to prove I deserve to be a Shadow guardian.

“Summer—”

“Stop,” I order, lifting an eyebrow in challenge as I glare over my shoulder at him. “I can handle it.”

He halts, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. Asher stiffens, looking from Valerian to me.

This is what I’ve been worried about all along. The bond’s raw power forcing him to resist my role as his Guardian, which requires serious risk.

“Please,” I add.

His snarl echoes through the tunnels, but he retreats a step. “If anything happens to you . . . I’ll destroy this entire Shimmer-forsaken city. Do you understand?”

I swallow. Nod.

“Good.” He draws a shortsword, his face transforming to the Valerian that terrifies me—the one I have absolutely no doubt would murder every person here, darkling, Fae, and mortal, if I was hurt. “After you, Princess.”

“Such a gentleman,” I mutter as I clamber up the rungs. A large manhole cover awaits. I hold my breath as I twist, praying the iron in the door has repelled the darklings from this spot.

Panic tears through me as I scramble over the side and onto a . . . a . . . where the frick am I?

The others pour through the hole, but I’m too busy looking around to say much. The enormous columns are just like I remember from the picture. But where I remember seeing the enormous statue of Abraham Lincoln now sits a statue of—

“Is that Maub, the Spring Court Queen?” Mack whispers.

“The one and only,” Asher says as we regroup into a defensive circle, Mack and I once again in the front.

Tip of the spear, Summer, I think, repeating Mr. Willis’s words from school. You’re the mother-freaking tip of the spear.

A wide set of stairs leads down into a park, where a swarm of darklings mill around the lawn. Some seem dazed, stumbling and careening, their bones so deformed they can barely walk. Others zip around on all fours so fast they blur into a churning mass of bones and hisses.

As we watch, a few darklings attack one of their brethren. The poor creature doesn’t last long, disappearing beneath a swarming mass of its friends.

Cannibal darklings. Wonderful—and so not surprising.

Some have taken to the water of the reflecting pool, which is even more beautiful than I imagined. Lily pads the size of watermelons float across the surface, the pale white flowers sprouting from them infested with iridescent water sprites.

Oh, God. I flinch as I see a darkling snatch one hiding in a lily and bite off the poor creature’s wings before—

I look away before I can see the rest, nausea clenching my gut. Thank the Shimmer, Ruby is still passed out on my shoulder, so she didn’t have to witness that barbaric—

“Did that creature just bite the head off a flying frog?” Ruby slurs, sitting up on my shoulder.

Holding a finger to my lips, I nod and whisper, “Yes, frogs. Flying frogs.”

“Good.” She rubs her head, totally ignoring my signal for silence. “Frogs are vile, disgusting creatures. Toads are worse. Some even eat sprites, can you imagine?”

In the hopes that she’ll stop talking, I ignore her as we pad on silent feet down the stairs. Any minute now, the breeze will carry the whiff of Valerian and Asher’s scent to the creatures.

Mack jerks her chin at the rectangular pool. Go time.

Reaching behind my head, I carefully grab the magical spear’s case, grimacing as I unclick the clasp. It pops open with a soft hiss.

Red, fiery light spills from the velvet-lined inside like fog, rolling away from me faster than I expected.

Well, crap.

A collective snarl splits the night as countless darklings all whip their heads in the direction of the magic . . . and us.

My fingers curl around the iron handle of the spear, a tingling sensation driving up my forearm. A single dark red garnet pulses from the hammered spear tip.

Ruby coos as she spots the jewel. “Hello, you pretty little sparkly thing.”

Ripping the weapon from its case, I jerk the spear back, find a spot in the water that seems to have the least amount of sprites, and throw it.

Thankfully, the magic inside the weapon improves my terrible aim, and the spear lands exactly where I wanted it to go—in the middle of the reflecting pool.

“My pretty!” Ruby cries.

Ignoring Ruby’s furious shrieks, I watch it sink noiselessly into the water and then—

A jolt rocks the steps beneath our feet as crimson magic ripples out into the water. Any darkling within fifteen feet turns to ash immediately. The explosion causes all the water sprites to take to the air like stars shaken free from the sky.

Even Ruby startles, tumbling from my shoulder and nearly face-planting on the stairs before remembering she can fly.

Doubt creeps in; I frown. Did we just waste a valuable weapon that we might need in a few minutes?

All at once, the darklings freeze. As the water stills, the crimson magic can be seen roiling out in waves beneath the surface.

With a collective shriek, the creatures surge across the lawn toward the pool.

23

The reflecting pool teems with darklings. “The magic tainted the water,” Mack remarks as we race to the right, following a line of slender trees toward the safe zone. Ruby swerves and dips above us, cackling like this is all some game.

The monument rises in the distance, so close yet still so freaking far away. The golden shield of magic floats around it like a corona of light in a sea of shadows.

I glance to my left at the water as we sprint. Mack’s right. The magic seeped into the pond, creating an even larger target and making the entire thing a magnet for the creatures.

A few darklings still remain in our path, torn between the powerful Evermore they smell and the magic in the water.

One leaps in my direction.

I hear Valerian snarl, can feel him tense, ready to destroy anything that tries to touch me.

Before he can react, I put an iron bolt into the darkling’s eye. It drops with an ear-splitting screech just as another leaps from the bushes toward Valerian—

My sword cleaves its head from its neck with an ease I find frightening—but also really fricking awesome. I cut two more down before Valerian can so much as react, dark blood flicking from my blade.

Remembering Mr. Willis’s speech, I whip my head back to face Valerian and wink. “You can have the ones I don’t kill.”

Translation—here’s my sloppy seconds. Probably not the best way to force him to accept my leadership position while also keeping his ego intact. But the look on his face—which I’m pretending is respect, not smoldering fury—is worth it.