Niall laid a small bouquet of flowers against the door, arranging the blooms so they fanned out in a beautiful design. Aisling stood behind him, watching the concentration on his face as he tended the bouquet.

“Rest well, my friend,” he said, stepping back. He placed his hand over his heart, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling. He muttered a few words under his breath in a language she’d never heard before.

Aisling laid her hand on his shoulder, the hard muscles shuddering under her touch. Niall – her tough, beautiful fae – was crying. The sobs tore at his body, raw and harsh. After his earlier declaration of his intention to fight the fae, to protect the house, the grief had stripped him of all his resolve. He said he needed this, needed to give Odiana something to mark her death. As much as she wanted to comfort him, she needed Niall the warrior more.

All the fight had flown from her as soon as she’d seen that poor fae slump against the porch, the arrow sticking out of her chest. Aisling still hadn’t forgiven Niall. She didn’t know if she ever could. But she accepted that her anger, her hatred of him grew out of her love. If she didn’t care for him, he wouldn’t have been able to hurt her. He may have doomed them both, but in the few short weeks since he’d come to the Hollow, she’d lived more than she had in the last fifteen years. All things considered, the balance sheet was in his favor.

“When will they attack?” she asked, when his sobs subsided.

“It will take some time for Laneth to place atern inside all the weapons he intends to use. Even with the accelerated time, I imagine we have a day, maybe more, to prepare.”

“Do you want some tea?”

He gave her a weak smile. “Do you have anything stronger?”

Niall followed Aisling into the library. She drew a small key from the pocket of her sweatshirt, and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk. From the compartment, she withdrew the dusty absinthe bottle her grandmother kept there, along with two crystal glasses and two delicate silver spoons covered in tiny filigree designs. In the dim light, the liquid shone a clear green color.

Aisling didn’t usually touch the stuff. Bethany used to drink it from time to time, and she’d stalk the halls in a violent rage, calling curses down on the fae and the family, before she vomited down the steps and passed out in the ballroom. Cleaning up someone’s puke was a fine way to turn one off the temptation of the green fairy forever.

Now, the drink seemed profoundly apt. Aisling poured a measure of absinthe into each glass, balanced the spoons over the rims of the glasses, placed a sugar cube from her tea tray on top, and then poured iced water slowly over the cube, melting the sugar and transforming the clear alcohol into a beautiful cloudy drink.

She handed the glass to Niall, toasting him wordlessly. He tipped his head back and downed the absinthe in a single gulp. Aisling followed his example, her throat burning from the strong drink.

“Another,” Niall said, his voice hoarse from crying. He pushed his glass toward her. Aisling poured them both another measure, and tossed hers back. Her head spun.

“She loved me,” he said, wiping his eyes with his hands. “Odiana. She never said anything, but I could tell she wanted me to ask her to marry me. I knew it, and I reveled in it, in being the one a beauty like that desired. I was never going to ask her to marry me, but I didn’t tell her that. I just let her keep on believing, keep on hoping. She was my friend and she loved me, and this is how I treated her.”

“Sometimes hope is a good thing,” Aisling said. “I know, because I’ve lived without it for so long.”

“No, that doesn’t cut it. I’m not going to sit here over the body of my friend and claim I’m a person that gives others hope. I’m a horrible person, Aisling. I came here, not because of you, but because of my brother. I didn’t tell you the truth because I thought if you knew, you wouldn’t want me anymore, and I didn’t want to be alone in the house. I left Odiana all alone, and she’s been suffering. I could have helped her, but I was too selfish to see what was going on outside. And then I delivered the ultimate weapon right into Laneth’s hands.”

There was no reasoning with Niall when he was like this. He wanted to wallow in his pain. Aisling started to prepare another measure of absinthe for him, but then she happened to notice the shadows moving along the wall, just beyond the window.

“Niall, there are more people outside, in the yard.” Aisling got up, and walked over to the window, peering out at the figures as they boldly leapt over the garden wall and trampled across her frozen garden. They moved at superhuman speed, their bodies only a blur against the gathering storm.

“Not people. Fairies.” Niall came to stand beside her, his hand falling on her shoulder. He watched as the fae rolled an enormous steel tube across the overgrown grass, a thin cone at one end. They pointed the cone up at the house, and started unrolling a series of cables across the wall. Every one of the fae wore the green shirt and trousers of the Venators, and each carried a bow and quiver of arrows strapped across his or her back. “We’re seeing them sped up, because time’s passing out there faster than it is in here.”

“Is that the weapon?” Aisling asked. Niall nodded.

“I can see it glowing blue with atern. It’s been supercharged with power.”

“What do we do?”

Niall didn’t answer, but his gaze hardened. “There’s Laneth.”

Aisling followed his gaze to a tall, thickset fae standing to the side of the ray. He remained bone-still while the other fae bustled around him, his gray eyes darting over the house’s facade with a look of intense hunger. His stillness made his features visible – his wide girth and regal face. The fae’s eyes fell on the window where they stood. He raised a hand and waved at them, his face breaking into a smile that had nothing to do with happiness.

“I’d like to wipe that smile off his face,” Niall growled, his hands balled into fists.

“As would I.”

Aisling glanced up at the portrait of Lady Greymouth hanging over the fireplace, her haughty chin held high, that yellow-eyed cat staring out with such derision. Would she have sat idle while the fae tore apart the house? She thought of Grandmother June, binding her power into the Hollow, giving her life that the house – and their family legacy – may continue.

“This is my house. I’m not letting them take it.” Aisling’s hands closed into fists. “Not without a fight.”

Niall looked at at her, and grinned. “Look at you, all burning with righteous anger. It’s gorgeous.”

“Are you going to help me?” she demanded.

“Damn right I am.”

* * *

“We have to control the entry points,” Niall said, as they carried splinters of the headboards into the library. Niall had found Bethany’s old axe in the greenhouse, and he’d chopped up all the larger pieces of heavy wood furniture into planks they could use for barricades. Widdershins curled around his feet while he worked, attempting to help in the way only cats could – by getting completely in the way. “The fae will get in eventually, especially if they’re drawing power from the place. It’s unavoidable. What we need to do is funnel them where we want them to go.”

“And where would that be?”

“Into the void, if we can manage it,” Niall said, setting down his pile and pulling out the hammers he’d found in the greenhouse. “This house has given you the means to get rid of your enemies. All we have to do is get them to fall into the trap.”

Aisling held the boards up to the window, while Niall nailed them in place, crisscrossing them to create a solid barrier. She watched the fae bustling around through her dwindling view. They connected all the wires to their weapon, and the fae called Laneth threw a comically large lever.

The house rumbled in protest as the beam from the machine hit the wall. Niall’s chair wobbled, and he had to grab the boards to keep from falling. He stared up at the ceiling, his expression darkening. “They’re tearing out the atern,” he said. “It won’t be long now.”

They finished nailing the boards over the library window, and Aisling placed an array of iron objects at the base of the barricade. If the fae broke through, they would land on the pile of iron candlesticks and tools, and it should slow them down. As they backed out of the room, Aisling cast a protection spell she’d learned from her grandmother’s books, placing a line of salt all around the edges of the library. She knew the fae would eventually overcome the spell, but it would slow them down.

They tipped over a large cabinet across the entrance to the east wing, and pushed a large heavy wardrobe in front of the ballroom doors. Aisling scattered these areas with her grandmother’s warding crystals, as well as more salt. With any luck, the fae would feel an instant jolt if they tried to enter those areas, and would follow the far easier path she and Niall had laid out for them.

At the threshold of the front door Aisling placed another pile of iron objects, hoping to hurt the fae as they came through.

While she did this, she heard Niall grunting with effort as he tore away the boards that closed off the dining room. Aisling didn’t want to see what lay beyond that door, knowing that she would be staring into the black hole of space itself. As much as she hated the fae, she didn’t want to kill them all. But she knew many would die tonight, in this great battle between the Hollow and Laneth, and she was desperately hoping it wouldn’t be her.

She stood at the end of the hallway, watching as Niall tipped over the large hall table to create a barricade, stacking the golden dog statues behind it as missiles. That done, he moved to the narrow staircase next to the dining room, the one leading down to wine cellar. Here he stacked the knives he’d taken from the kitchen, each of them sharpened to a razor’s edge. Their plan was to begin behind the table, and when the fae overwhelmed them there, to retreat to the staircase and use the weapons there to try to drive the fae into the void. Aisling didn’t have much hope that it would work, but she had long ago resigned herself to dying in the house, and she was damn well going to die fighting beside Niall.

Aisling ran back into the hall, and yanked the four heavy swords that hung between the portraits. She placed two on the staircase, and handed one to Niall. He swung it in the air, a wicked grin spreading across his face. At least he felt perfectly at ease with a weapon in his hands. Aisling eyed her own blade with apprehension, still trying to remember everything Niall had taught her about combat.

“What do we do now?” she said.

“Now we wait.” Niall’s hand fell around her waist, pulling her close. She took strength from the warmth of his body, from the warrior’s blood pulsing in his veins. This might be the last time she felt his skin against hers, and she cherished it, leaning her head against his shoulder and breathing deep of his unique scent, capturing this special part of him in her memory.

Widdershins jabbed her arm with his paw, and gave a tiny merrrww. Aisling cradled him in her arms, burying her face in his soft fur. “Run away, boy,” she whispered to him. “Go to your secret place and hide. If anyone should survive this, I really wish it is you.”

A tear fell from her eye and dashed itself against Widdershins’ fur. He bumped his cheek against hers, his body rumbling with a deep purr. Reluctantly, Aisling set him down on the ground, and he bolted across the hall, heading toward the ballroom doors, dusting his paws with salt granules as he disappeared around the side of the wardrobe.

They didn’t have to wait long. The house groaned again, and sparks fell down from the chandelier in the hall. Something scraped along the porch. And then, the front door rattled against its frame.

Bang bang bang

The sound reverberated around the hall like gunshots. The bangs grew louder, pounding against Aisling’s skull. Splintered wood flew off in all directions. The door sagged on its hinges. The house groaned in protest. In the skylight above, light flashed as the storm of the century raged overhead.

Bang bang bang

With a sickening crack, several boards flew off the door, scattering across the hall. The blade of an axe thrust through, slashing at the door to widen the hole.

The fae had breached the Hollow.

Niall leaned out from their hiding place behind the corner of the archway, and sent an arrow flying at the door. It caught the first fae in the throat as he swung his body through the hole. The fairy staggered back, his hands grabbing at the arrow, his mouth open. Blood dribbled down his chin. He fell across the threshold, and the next fae stepped over his body, not stopping to check if his comrade was alive.

Aisling’s hands burned with righteous fury. She squeezed her eyes shut and flung out her fingers, channelling all her energy at the advancing fae. To her surprise, heat surged from her palms. She opened her eyes, and saw a ball of fire spin across the room. The fire caught the fae square in the chest, his green tunic bursting into flames. He screamed as he went down, his long hair burning a bright halo around his tortured face. More warriors shoved their way through the hole in the door, tearing it wider. They trampled over the bodies of their comrades.

Niall’s arrows flew in all directions, hitting their marks with unbelievable efficiency. Aisling’s hands burned as she forced her rage out through her skin, as she channelled the energy the house had given to her into destroying its enemies with cleansing fire.

Niall flung his last arrow into the column of fae. He flung down his bow, and grabbed Aisling’s arm. “Retreat!” he yelled, dragging her back. AIsling scrambled after him, sprinting across the marble into the west hall. She leapt over the heavy desk, grabbing up her sword, holding it the way Niall had showed her. Her whole body trembled – a mixture of rage and fear.

Niall’s tactics worked perfectly. Here in the hall, the fae had to come at them in single file. They were as evenly matched as they could hope to be. The first warriors rounded the corner, drawing their own swords and grinning their self-satisfied fae grins, as though they’d already won.

Aisling’s hands on the hilt felt cold as ice. She didn’t think she could summon any more fire. This is it. This is where I die.

Niall leaned forward, and his sword clashed with the first fae.

The fight happened so fast, a blur of limbs and gritted teeth and shining steel. Aisling heard Niall cry out, and her whole body surged with new energy.

She plunged her blade into the fae’s neck. None of Niall’s training prepared her for the ease at which the blade sliced through the fairy’s flesh. His eyes bugged out of his head, and blood spurted from his open mouth. He collapsed to the ground, his blade sliding down Niall’s with a clang.

Aisling didn’t have time to gloat over her kill. A blade swung toward her face. Aisling ducked, and the fae who attacked her faltered as he regained his balance. She flung her sword up, aiming for his throat. But she wasn’t fast enough. He blocked her blow, and the force of his blade against hers reverberated up her arms. Her hands shook as she fought at the bind to hold him off.

“I’ll have you soon, witch,” the fae grinned, as he inched his blade closer to her face. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. You’ve too much atern to be wasted on the battlefield. Perhaps Laneth will let me take my pleasure with you before he strips the magic from your charred bones.”

Aisling gritted her teeth. Her shoulders shook from the pressure of holding his blade back. The point of his sword wobbled in front of her eye.

The fae’s eyes widened with surprise. The pressure on Aisling’s shoulder relaxed as he collapsed against the wall, the entire side of his face caked in blood. Niall withdrew his blade, dragging the tip along the edge of the fae’s temple. Her assailant opened his mouth to scream, but the hilt of Niall’s sword caught him across the jaw. The fae’s face exploded with blood. He doubled over, landing on top of his fallen comrade.

Another fae came at them, and another, each one fresh to the fight, their skin gleaming, their faces aglow with the joy of battle. Aisling’s arms screamed. She swung clumsily, her sword flailing. Even Niall looked tired, his face streaked with the blood of those he’d felled. It was only by the awkwardness of their position that they continued to hold ground.

“Fall back!” he hissed at her. Aisling dropped the heavy sword and raced for the end of the hall, Niall hot on her heels. Four fae vaulted the table and raced after them, their feet pounding against the marble.

“Argh!” one of them yelled as his foot hit one of the statues, and he went down, bringing the fae behind him down as well. The other two leapt over their comrades, not even slowing down.

“Quick, into the dining room!” Niall yelled as loud as he could, loud enough for all the fae to hear. Aisling poured on speed, her feet slipping against the marble, slick now with the blood caking the bottom of her shoes. She reached the end of the hall, where the dining room door gaped open, the inky blackness inside snaking its tendrils around the edge of the wooden door.

Fear rose in her chest as they reached out toward it. One wrong move, one foot out of place, and she’d fall right into the void.

Niall grabbed her hand. At the last possible second, he yanked her hard. The cold of the void grazed her cheek, and then it was gone. Aisling caught the corner of the cellar doorframe and swung herself around, crouching down as she found her footing on the narrow steps.

The fae were not so lucky. They couldn’t slow their momentum, and crashed into the door, sending it swinging inwards, where it disappeared into the black void waiting just beyond the threshold. The fae didn’t have time to scream before they too were swallowed, just the way her mother had been.

The warriors who followed directly behind them managed to stop themselves just in time. Theirs eyes grew wide as they stared directly into the void itself. That was when Aisling and Niall hit them with knives and daggers. They had the element of surprise. Within moments they had cut down the last of the fae.

“Where now?” Aisling puffed, her stomach retching as she regarded the bodies littering the hall.

“I think—” Niall began, then clutched his shoulder, wincing as a deep cut opened across his skin. An arrow stuck out of the wall just behind him.

“This is pointless, witch.” A single fae stood at the end of the hall, his bow stretched between his long fingers, pointed directly at them. “This house, and all of its power, will be ours.”

He raised the bow. Aisling’s breath froze in her chest. Niall squeezed her hand. She stared down the hall at death himself.

She grinned.

The door beside the fae flew open, and an invisible wind plucked him from the hallway and dragged him inside. The door slammed shut again. From inside the room, they heard the fae screaming.

Niall turned to her, his eyes wide with surprise. “What did you do?”

“It’s the house! It’s fighting for us.”

“Quick!” Niall yanked her back. “That was only the first wave.”

As if on cue, the picture frame on the wall behind them shattered, glass shards raining down on them. Niall shoved Aisling to the ground. Her knee hit the marble floor with a painful crack. Two more arrows sunk into the wall where they’d been standing.

A moment later, Niall was tugging on her hand. “Run!” he yelled.

Aisling scrambled to her feet. Arrows whizzed around her head, slamming into the walls as she streamed past, their felches still quivering from their flight. She pitched herself toward the library.

Niall yanked her into the library, and slammed the door behind them. “Help me move this.” He started pushing on the large oak desk they’d already moved next to the door. Aisling took the other end, and together, they managed to drag it across the carpet and barricade the door.

Aisling sprinkled a line of salt around the desk, and cast a protection spell around the door. Her hands felt cold again, and she knew the spell was weak. Just the act of performing it made her feel woozy. “I need to sit down.”

While she slumped against the side of the desk, listening to the banging and voices in the hall as the fae ravaged her home, Niall paced across the room, over the bright square on the faded carpet where the desk had sat.

“We’re trapped in here,” she said, her head throbbing. “It’s a dead end.”

“Better than being dead out there,” Niall said. “We’ll wait them out. See if you can get the house to give you more power.”

Aisling raised her hand to the ceiling, trying to force all thought from her mind. It was hard, given how the loud banging in the hall was occupying her mind right now, but she tried to focus on the house, on the memory of her grandmother. Please, give me more. I just need enough to stop them. Please, give me more power.

Nothing happened. The warm feeling in her hands didn’t come back. Aisling lowered her arm. “It’s not working. Maybe it doesn’t have any more power to give. Did you find anything in those books?”

“Yes!” Niall grabbed one of the open volumes off the stack by the window, and thrust it under her nose. Aisling stared at the diagram of sigils, trying to focus on the words DRAWING DOWN SPELL. Her fear made the lines wobble. Nothing made sense. A lump rose in her throat. How was she going to do this?

You have to do this. You have to stop this from happening.

Aisling reached for the book, but as she did so, the whole desk started to shake. The door banged against its hinges.

“Niall.” Aisling planted her feet into the carpet, and strained her whole body against the desk. “They’re trying to move it!”

No. I won’t let you take her.

In a flash, Niall was beside her, his whole body leaning into the desk. Together, they managed to shove the desk back against the door. The magic book slid across the floor, just out of reach.

Bang.

A huge force shoved against the door. The desk hurtled across the room. Aisling was pitched out of the way. Her body slammed into one of the bookshelves. Pain arced across her skull. Books tumbled on top of her, their heavy corners pummeling her skin. White lights grew large and heavy across her eyes, stealing away her vision as she swam in an ocean of agony.

The pain subsided, and she managed to pry open her eyes. Remnants of the desk lay scattered across the floor. Books littered the carpet like bodies on a battlefield, their spines torn open, ripped pages fluttering on a cold breeze. Niall lay near the fireplace, his body covered in books.

I’ll never find that spellbook now.

Niall raised his head and stared toward the door. Aisling followed her gaze, her stomach tight with dread.

In the doorway stood a fae. Tall and majestic, his body shimmered with a pulsing blue aura so vivid even Aisling could see it. He carried no weapon, but if he alone had pushed the door open, he didn’t need one.

That must be Laneth.

The fae glared at Niall with cold, calculating eyes. Then, his gaze fixed on Aisling, and he smiled.

“Good evening, Niall,” he said, his tone light, friendly. It made every word he said all the more sinister. “You didn’t think you could keep this place from me, did you? I’ve come for what’s mine.”

“This isn’t your house, Laneth.” Niall said. “It isn’t your power, and it isn’t mine, either.”

“Tsk, tsk, that’s not a fae talking.” The man’s eyes finally rested on Aisling’s face. “You’ve been corrupted, I see. Bewitched by this.”

He indicated Aisling with a flip of his hand. She dragged her body up, pain clawing at her limbs. Magic burned in her fingers once more. Above their heads, the house groaned.

“I speak of my own free will.” Niall spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. His voice cut the air like a blade. “You’re one to talk about corruption. You’ve stolen from our own people, Laneth. You’ve taken everything for yourself, and deprived Scitis of—”

“They did nothing with it!” Laneth yelled. “Don’t you see? Power shared is power diminished. The Quaesitors were so obsessed with pushing their own ideas and gaining station, they didn’t think about what would happen if they combined their forces. So I did it for them. With this power, I can perform spells of untold magnitude. I have made Scitis more powerful than any other fae faction. And with the power of the Hollow at my disposal, we’ll soon triumph across all the realms. We’ll be the rulers of all, Niall. There’s still a chance for you to be part of it, if you join me now.”

“Will any of this power be shared?” Niall demanded. “Are you going to give back what you stole from our own people?”

“Of course.” Laneth holds up his hands. “I’m not greedy. I’m not keeping all this forever, just until we conquer the void, dispel the endless winter, and take all of the Isa realm for ourselves.”

“Oh, of course!” Niall took a step toward Laneth. Aisling noticed his hand shoved behind his back, his fingers clasped around a thin dagger. “You’re the picture of selflessness, Laneth. You’re just doing this for the good of Scitis. Never mind that hundreds of fae have already died because you took away their atern. Never mind you killed my oldest and best friend, or that you’ve destroyed the most sacred institution we had—”

“Sacred?” Laneth scoffed. “I’ve done what the Quaesitors have failed to do for the last fifty years. Me, an Aedifex? I’ve shown the whole system our faction is built on is a lie. Rebellion always comes at a cost, Niall. Now, will you join me in draining this witch?”

Niall’s face twisted into an unreadable expression. He stepped forward, extending his hand to Laneth in friendship.

As Laneth reached out to take his hand, Niall whipped his other arm out from behind his back. He plunged the dagger into Laneth’s chest, driving it in right up to the hilt. Laneth’s eyes bugged out, and he stared down at the handle protruding from his broad stomach.

His chin quivered. Aisling leaned forward, ready to watch him fall. Instead, Laneth’s face broke into a wide grin.

“It will take more than that to stop me,” Laneth said, his voice calm. He grabbed the handle of the knife, dragging it from his chest. It made a sickening plop sound as the tip of the blade pulled free. Laneth tossed the blade on the floor. The wound on his stomach closed over, leaving only a tiny smudge of blood.

Laneth grabbed Niall by the throat. He lifted Niall off the ground, grinning wickedly as Niall struggled against his grip.

“Let him go!” Aisling yelled. She rushed forward, but Laneth held up another hand. Aisling slammed against an invisible wall. She slammed her fists in the air, but as much as she struggled, she couldn’t get any closer. Niall’s face was turning white. Laneth’s grin grew wider.

Aisling’s hands burned. She raised them in front of her face, and for the first time noticed tendrils of blue smoke swirling from the tips of her fingers. It wasn’t as strong as the blue shimmering around Laneth, but it gave her a surge of hope.

She thrust her fingers out, pushing out the energy inside her. This time, her hand sailed right through the invisible wall. The heat burned in her hands, then surged outward, heading for Laneth. He dropped Niall and grabbed his arm, wincing as the heat seared his skin. A dark burn mark encircled his bicep, and Aisling caught the scent of burning flesh.

“Get out of my house,” Aisling growled, the power surging through her body, boiling in her veins. She held out her hand, preparing to strike again.

Laneth tossed his head back and laughed, the sound reverberating through the library. He swiped his fist through the air. Books rained from the shelves, scattering across the floor.

With another swipe of his arm, the books rose from the floor, their pages unfurling as they circled the room in a wild dance, slamming against her body. Page after page tore away as Aisling’s most precious possessions became her tormentors.

“No.” Aisling raised her own arm. She pulled up all the power within her, dragging every last ounce of energy. She forced up a great cone inside of her, the power churning, desperate for release. She threw all her rage and anger and pain behind it, all the memories of her childhood trapped inside this house, all the stolen moments of her life that she would never get to experience, all the loneliness and longing and regret, and she threw it all at Laneth.

The power fled through her fingers, pouring from her into him. Laneth doubled over, clutching his stomach, his face twisting in agony. Niall managed to pull himself up, and he battled through the flapping books to wrap his arms around Aisling.

“You got him!” he cried, slamming his fist into the attacking books as he pulled her toward the door.

The blue aura around Laneth’s body pulsed, fading away, then returning, stronger than ever. He raised his head, and instead of the pain of Aisling’s strike, he looked triumphant.

“You can’t touch me,” he cried, standing up and throwing his arms wide.

With another wave of his wrist, the pages in the air turned into birds. Huge, white birds, their wings made from words, their talons the barbs of sonnets. They opened their wide sharp beaks and dove at Aisling and Niall.

They ducked to avoid the first strike, scrambling across the room as the birds turned about and dove at them again. Aisling leapt left, her body slamming into the bookshelf. Some of the birds couldn’t turn fast enough, and they slammed against the barricade, their beaks sticking into the wood.

Laneth surged forward, his hands raised high, a wicked grin on his face. Aisling raised her hand to her face, her other hand seeking Niall’s, wanting to die in his arms. Laneth lunged at them, his hands glowing blue. Aisling steeled herself for the end.

The shelf behind her opened up, and swallowed them whole, collapsing the library into inky blackness.