Caleb placed his hands on his hips, surveying the intersection.
“Six different paths,” Chelsea said. She stood behind him, resting her back against his. “They all look the same.”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “No clue on where to go next. What was it like… I mean, ah…” He trailed off, realizing where he’d been going.
“It’s okay,” Chelsea said, nudging him gently. “This isn’t much at all like my time in the shadow world. That was a lot more clear about where to go. It seemed to take delight in pushing Gwen and me into painful memories.”
“So it’s playing a different game with us,” Caleb said. He craned his neck back, his head resting against the warm softness of Chelsea’s owl Summon, who cooed gently in response. “The sky’s so dark. I still don’t get how we can see.”
“Well, if this place is interested in playing games, let’s not play along,” Chelsea said. She walked over to a set of benches that faced each other and sat down. “Come on, let’s see how patient the darkness really is.”
Caleb laughed as he came to sit across from her. “Carefree, are we?”
“I’m taking a page from your book.” Chelsea studied Caleb’s face. “You know, I think I’m starting to get used to your glasses. Your old glasses were much narrower frames and I thought that suited you best, but… these work just fine.” She reached out, starting to pluck the glasses from Caleb’s face, and he closed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Fractured,” Caleb said. “I’m fine with the glasses, but I can’t look at things without them. It’ll worsen my condition.”
“Well, that’s no fun.” Chelsea took his glasses off anyway, and Caleb kept his eyes shut. “Now you can’t see what I look like wearing them.”
Caleb laughed. “You could take a picture. Got your phone?”
“Battery’s dead,” Chelsea said with a sigh.
Caleb reached into his pocket and handed her his. “Mine’s not.”
“Ooh, fun!” Chelsea took his phone, and Caleb waited with his eyes shut as she went about taking a picture of herself. “It really is surprising how well we can see in this place.”
“Do things look different wearing them?”
“No,” Chelsea said. “Should they?”
“Everything looks different for me through them. Alexandra said it was like seeing the world the way the Enchanted do. Everything’s more vibrant, more full of color and light.”
“Huh.” Chelsea handed him back his phone, and then put his glasses back on his face for him. He opened his eyes, smiling at Chelsea’s expectant stare.
“Let’s see…” He took a look at the pictures Chelsea took, and smiled. “Okay, now I’m really bummed I can’t look at you without my glasses. You are way too cute.”
“Cute?” Chelsea asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “What?”
“I just…” Chelsea sat back, looking away as if she was embarrassed. “I never really thought of myself as… cute. Like, pretty, sure, but I kinda thought I’d left my cute days behind in my childhood.”
“Not to me,” Caleb said, grinning. “You’re adorable.”
Chelsea leaned in, kissing him firmly on the lips. “You’re the adorable one,” she said with a smirk. “Oh.” She stood up, looking around. “Only one path left.”
Caleb stood and saw what she meant. There’d been six narrow stone paths out from this intersection before, but now there was only one. Not even the path that had led them here remained.
“Guess Sal got grossed out by our flirting,” Chelsea said, chuckling as she approached the path.
“You think he’s watching us?” Caleb asked.
“What else would he be doing? He put us in here. He wants us to turn over to the darkness. I doubt he’s going to just leave it up to chance.” She glared at the darkness. “Besides, he knew so much about us when he talked to us at that bookshop. He’s been watching us like a creeper for a long time. He’s not about to stop now.”
“Fair enough.” Caleb took Chelsea’s hand. “You ready?”
Chelsea gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m always ready when I’m with you.”
They started forward together, darkness and dense foliage closing in around them. Soon they couldn’t walk side-by-side, Caleb taking the lead with Chelsea right behind.
“Hey,” Chelsea said. “You remember back in Grimoire, training to fight the Shadows with Shana’s team?”
“Yeah,” Caleb said, surprised she brought up something so far back.
“Remember how Shana got grumpy with us for not using pet names?”
“Oh.” Caleb blinked, the memory slowly coming back to him.
Chelsea gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “ ‘Oh’?”
“Yeah, I remember,” Caleb said.
“Yeah, well, first of all, I’ve never liked that term,” Chelsea said. “You’re not my ‘pet.’ That sounds… kinda gross. Demeaning, at least. But, uh… I mean, would you be opposed to having nicknames for each other like that?”
“I thought you were,” Caleb said, remembering a conversation he and Chelsea had had on the subject while college students.
“Yeah, well… I might’ve kinda lied.” Chelsea sighed. “You know how I was back then. Anyway… look, do you like the idea or not?”
Caleb had to think about that for quite a while as they walked. “It’s… weird,” he finally said. “I like the idea, but… I can’t seem to think of a good pe— nickname.”
“Okay, well, we could bring up the usual ones you hear all the time.” Chelsea tapped his palm with each one she recited. “There’s dear, and darling, and sweetie, and baby, and babe, and honey, and… well, anyway, that’s a list to start. Do you like any of those?”
Caleb had to laugh at first. It was such a strange conversation to have in this dark world. But at the same time…
This is the kind of attitude that keeps the darkness at bay.
“Well, sweetie and sweetheart are out for me,” he said.
“Why’s that?” Chelsea asked.
“That’s what Mom always called us as kids. Still does, sometimes. It just feels like a parent-child name, at least for me.”
“Well then ‘dear’ and ‘dearest’ are out for me,” Chelsea said. “Mom… used that a lot for me.” After a pause, she continued. “ ‘Darling’ sounds kind of romantic, don’t you think?”
“Hmm… yeah, I do kind of like that.”
“What about honey?” Chelsea asked.
“Because we’re both so sweet?” Caleb asked, earning a hand-squeeze. He laughed. “It’s nice. Hmm… why is my mind just totally blanking on other options?”
“Because you’re bad at multi-tasking,” Chelsea said, poking Caleb in the center of his spine. “Just walk, and tell me if any of my ideas sound good.”
“I can handle that much, at least,” Caleb said, laughing.
“What about… ‘oh wondrous love of mine’?”
Caleb laughed all the more. “When you say it in such a dramatic voice, it really fits. Maybe a bit over-the-top, though. Sounds like something someone uses on their deathbed.”
Chelsea snorted. “Deathbed? Geez, way to kill the mood.”
“I meant, like, as a way to make sure his wife knows how much he loves her before he breathes his last. You know, super dramatic, but… kind of romantic, in its own way.”
“Yeah, well, neither of us is allowed to die before the other, so that’s out.”
“Oh?” Caleb asked. “I didn’t realize that was a rule.”
“It is.”
“Well… I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
Chelsea gave his hand a sharp squeeze. “Don’t call me ‘ma’am’.”
“Roger that… ma’a—ow!” Caleb cut off as Chelsea squeezed his hand a lot harder than before. He tried not to laugh at her reaction. “Got it, got it.”
“Good. Okay, back to names… ‘pumpkin’?”
“Now we’re calling each other food?” Caleb asked.
“Hey, you didn’t mind ‘honey’,” Chelsea shot back. “And pumpkin’s kind of a common one, too.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess it is.”
“Well fine, it’s out.” Chelsea murmured in thought for a few moments. She then chuckled, her voice taking on a slight purr. “What about… ‘sexy’?”
Caleb felt his cheeks growing hot. “Only when we’re alone!”
“We are alone, darling,” Chelsea said.
Caleb laughed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “So we are, darling.”
Chelsea giggled. “Yeah, that one sticks well. We’ll keep it.”
“Agreed.”
“Okay… so… huh, you like ‘honey’ but can’t go for the ‘sweet’ line of names.”
“Well, my mom didn’t call me ‘honey’,” Caleb said.
“Gumdrop?” Chelsea asked.
Caleb coughed out a laugh. “Gumdrop?”
“Don’t make fun of my names!” Chelsea said, punching him lightly in the back. “Honestly. If you don’t like it —”
“It’s cute,” Caleb said, laughing. “See? Just like I said — you’re cute.”
“If you don’t tell me you don’t like it, I’ll actually use it,” Chelsea said.
Caleb, grinning, shook his head. “I won’t say I don’t like it. I’m not gonna lie to you, after all.”
“Okay then, gumdrop,” Chelsea said, earning a series of giggles from Caleb. She laughed with him, her fingers playing with his. Her owl hooted softly and fluttered his wings, and both Caleb and Chelsea looked up to see that the path changed up ahead. It widened somewhat, enough for them to walk side-by-side, just before a staircase just as wide ascended to a high plateau.
Someone sat on the stairs halfway up — a young man by the looks of him, dressed in a black suit. When Caleb and Chelsea stopped at the base of the stairs, they could see him better, but that wasn’t much help. His face was concealed by a white mask with black eyes and a black, painted smile.
“Who the heck is that?” Chelsea asked, glaring up at the stranger.
But Caleb had a sinking feeling in his gut, while also feeling a magnetic pull towards the stranger.
He’s…
…not a stranger at all, is he?
“They’re here,” came a voice that was Caleb’s, but Caleb wasn’t the one who’d spoken. The masked man tilted his head to the side, as if he couldn’t look directly at Caleb and Chelsea. “I could hear that fake laughter from so far away.”
“None of it was fake,” Chelsea said, glaring more intensely at the masked man. “But you sure are. Now get out of our way. Or we’ll go through you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” the masked man said, tilting his head towards Caleb.
“No,” Caleb said. “But I can’t vouch for Chelsea. She’ll blast you to dust if you get in our way. But you already know that.”
“I never should’ve fallen in love with such a frightening woman,” Caleb’s other said, burying his masked face in his hands.
“Ugh,” came Chelsea’s voice, but from the top of the stairs. There was Chelsea’s other, dressed in black, her long hair billowing out behind her in a sudden breeze. “So disgusting. Is this really what your inner self looks like?” She walked down the stairs until she stood behind Caleb’s other, and then kicked him in the back. With a whimpering cry, the masked version of Caleb dropped, rolling down dozens of stairs before scrambling to a meager, pathetic stop. He knelt on the steps, facing towards Chelsea’s other, his head bowed against a step. Chelsea’s other smirked, then vanished, appearing on the opposite side of Caleb from Chelsea. Her voice took on a sultry purr as she took his arm in her hands, hugging it close to her chest. “I much prefer this Caleb.”
“Well, there’s one thing we agree on,” Chelsea said, lifting one of her lighters and clicking it. A dart of flame shot towards her other’s face, but her other vanished just in time to avoid it, appearing on the stairs, sitting next to Caleb’s other. “But hands off. He doesn’t belong to you.”
Chelsea’s other smiled as she stroked the back of Caleb’s other’s hair. “There is value in a fearful lover, isn’t there?” she asked. “After all, fear makes for a malleable man.” She tugged on Caleb’s other’s ear. “Oh darling, won’t you roll over like a dog and let me scratch your belly?”
“W-why?” Caleb’s other asked, peeking up at her through his mask.
“To show me how much you love me, of course,” Chelsea’s other said, smiling.
And Caleb’s other did as he was told, rolling over onto his back on the stairs. But Chelsea’s other didn’t scratch his belly — she punched him, hard, in the gut. Caleb’s other gasped in pain and curled up into the fetal position, whimpering.
“W-why did you —” he started.
“To test your trust,” Chelsea’s other said sweetly. “Now, then, why are you curling up like that? It’s as if you don’t trust me.”
“I-I…” Caleb’s other started, but then unfurled himself from his cowering position. “S-sorry.”
“I can’t stand to watch this,” Chelsea said, raising her lighters. “Like he said — I’ll blast you both to ash if I need to. Get out of the way.”
“You wouldn’t dare hurt —” Chelsea’s other started, but she and Caleb’s other vanished as Chelsea blasted emerald fire onto the stairs.
“Sickening witch,” Chelsea said, eyes narrowed dangerously. She tucked her lighters into her pockets and took Caleb’s hand. “They can say they’re our ‘true selves’ all they want, but that’s not right.”
“They’re a reflection of our worst selves,” Caleb said, leading the way up the stairs. “Who we… could be. If we gave into darkness.”
But Caleb was shaken. He understood conceptually who his other was, and what he showed him. But…
That was way too far. Is that really… the kind of man I’d be if I gave into fear? A worst-case scenario, but…
A possible one, nonetheless.
Fear really is destructive.
“Hey,” Chelsea said, giving Caleb’s hand a gentle squeeze. “They’re not us. Don’t let them get in your head.”
“Yeah,” Caleb said.
They reached the top of the stairs, where a veil of darkness blocked off all from view. All… save a single wooden door. Standing next to it was Chelsea’s other, with Caleb’s other kneeling at her feet.
“Hey,” Chelsea said, glaring at the pair.
“What’s the matter?” Chelsea’s other asked.
“What’s the deal here?” Chelsea asked. “You can’t serve the darkness. The darkness is the enemy. You and I both agree on that, I know we do.”
“Yes, they are the enemy,” Chelsea’s other said. “But then… so are all of those who pushed him to that.”
“Him…?” Chelsea started, her voice taut.
The dark reflections of Caleb and Chelsea vanished. With a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing a man kneeling on the floor…
But Caleb barely saw the man before Chelsea snatched the door and pulled it back, slamming it shut. She stood there, holding the doorknob, gasping for breath.
“Don’t you dare,” she said softly. “Don’t you dare show me this. I see it enough in my nightmares…”
“What is it?” Caleb asked.
Chelsea was silent, and Caleb placed his hand gently on the small of her back. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”
Chelsea took a shaky breath, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “But I… know where this is going. It’s… about my father.”
Caleb blinked. He’d never heard Chelsea talk about her father, except once, briefly, talking about how he…
Oh. Right.
“I know I don’t talk about him,” Chelsea said. “But it’s not because I didn’t like him. I just didn’t… know him.” She sighed, stepping away from the door, and the door vanished. Darkness rolled away, revealing a long, darkened street flanked by tall, foreboding buildings. At the start of the street was a sign, and scrawled on it in a child’s hand were two words: “MY FAULT.”
“My father…” Chelsea continued. “I know he died when I was seven, that even so, there really wasn’t much time to get to know him. I knew my mother so well. But father, he… Mom was his whole world. She was everything to him. So every chance he got, he spent it with her. He doted on her, and… well, at least through a child’s eyes, he… ignored me. I have no idea how he really felt about me, but I know as a kid… I was jealous. I wanted Mom all to myself, too, but… I wanted my father to pay attention to me. And then… after Mom died… he lost himself.” She raked her fingers through her hair, staring up at the dark sky. “I guess… that’s what happens when you lose your whole world. What else can you do?” She stared at the sign for a moment, then shook her head. “Come on. We have to go through this. It’s not gonna leave me alone until I do.”
They started forward, and Caleb heard the distant echo of a little girl’s voice. Sobbing, she said, “It’s my fault… it’s all my fault…”
“If you take a close look, you might recognize this road,” Chelsea said, leading the way. “It’s not the kind of district we’d spend time in, but it isn’t all that far from Reiner Manor.”
Caleb didn’t recognize it, not at first, and not by sight. The heavy darkness made it hard to make out details, but a scent wafted to him, making him wrinkle his nose, and then he understood.
It was the smell of alcohol.
“Dark Side,” Caleb said softly. That wasn’t the real name of the district, but it had earned that name because of the yearly Lunar Festival, as people started calling this district after the dark side of the Moon. It wasn’t a place Caleb or Chelsea went to, and even on patrol they didn’t bother — no Hunters did. Not because they wanted it to be destroyed by Hollows, but because this was the one district of Grimoire that never slept, and there were plenty of what generous folk called “freelance Hunters,” or just “Freelancers,” who hung around Dark Side — enough of them to easily keep Hollows from wreaking any havoc here.
Dark Side was a hub of bars, night clubs, and seedier, darker elements Caleb didn’t care to think about. He knew more by hearsay and rumors than by personal experience, since the only time he’d walked through Dark Side was once, when he was twelve years old, on a dare — and that was at ten in the morning, when Dark Side was effectively asleep. There wasn’t much of anything he could learn from that.
“My father never drank a drop of alcohol,” Chelsea said as she walked slowly down the street. “Not while Mom was alive. She didn’t either. They were both Hunters, and he was an Investigator, so it was even more important to him that he kept his wits sharp at all times. But he had some friends and contacts from Investigator work who frequented Dark Side, and… well, when Mom died… he… spent a lot more time with them.” She came to a stop, staring at another sign scrawled with “MY FAULT.”
“How could you?” came a little girl’s voice, and Chelsea stiffened, eyes wide. Slowly she turned, and Caleb looked with her, to see a young girl with long black hair and bright emerald eyes. Her hands were balled up into fists at her sides, and she stared at Chelsea with an angry, tear-filled glare. “How could you let him die?”
“I didn’t…” Chelsea started.
“It’s all your fault!” little Chelsea cried.
Chelsea seemed to relax, and she stared at the ground, her gaze softening. “No,” she said gently. “No, it isn’t. But… I thought it was. For a long, long time.”
Little Chelsea was gone, and now there was a group of people gathering in the center of Dark Side, a small facsimile of Lunar Plaza. In the center of them was a disheveled man. His gaze was sunken and filled with despair, his beard was unkempt, his shoulders slumped, his steps listless. Around him was a group of people, and Caleb recognized one of them — Jacob Crowley in his mid-forties, younger than Caleb had ever seen him. He still had that dark, intimidating gaze and stature, something that apparently never changed.
“My father… had a lot of friends,” Chelsea said. “For a while after Mom’s death, they went to Dark Side with him. They stuck by him, and did their best to help him. But…he never got any better. He didn’t go back to work, no matter how much Mister Crowley offered support and assistance. He drank, and drank, and wallowed in his grief. And while so many people were with him at first… one by one, they gave up on him. One by one, they left. They couldn’t deal with his tantrums, his fits, with how he wasn’t getting better.” She clenched her hands into fists, watching as one by one, the people surrounding her devastated father vanished. After a moment of her father standing there alone, little Chelsea appeared, gazing up at her father sadly.
“I was there,” Chelsea said. “But… I think I just reminded him of what he’d lost. He always looked so hurt whenever he looked at me. He barely spoke to me, and whenever I hugged him, he just… sat there. When people stopped taking care of him and watching out for him, I still did.” She laughed bitterly. “A seven year-old girl coming down to Dark Side every night, walking into bars and dragging home her daddy.” She shook her head. “I knew even then how pathetic people thought it was.”
The scene shifted, showing little Chelsea holding her father’s hand and leading him out of a bar while the patrons still inside laughed and jeered at them. Outside, Hollow Hour was in full force but Dark Side was protected by the Freelancers.
And then the little girl and her listless father were out of Dark Side. Three Howlers stepped in their path, and Chelsea, seven years old, stepped forward, a silver lighter in each hand. Her hands barely shook, and the fierce gleam in her eyes was so recognizable to Caleb. Two clicks, and fires blasted forth, wild and vicious, less controlled than what Caleb was used to seeing from Chelsea’s fighting style.
But it was effective. The Howlers cried in pain as they burned to ash. Little Chelsea pocketed her lighters and dragged her father along.
Twice more Hollows attacked the pair, and twice more Chelsea, the child, stepped forward and protected her father, destroying the monsters that threatened them. They reached home safe and sound, and little Chelsea walked her father up to his bedroom and watched, a sad hopelessness in her eyes as her father rolled into bed and fell right asleep. She walked in, properly tucking him in, and watched over him for a while longer before going to bed herself.
“For a while, I thought he might be getting better,” Chelsea said, the scene returning to the dark, empty Dark Side. “He didn’t change much, but… some nights he came home by himself, before I had to go out looking for him. He even sometimes spoke to me with more than just lifeless words. I even thought I saw him smile, once.” She walked a bit farther, stopping in front of a bar with a flickering vermilion neon sign over the door that read “JOSIE’S DINER.” A little Chelsea stood outside, hands balled into fists, looking like she was working up her courage to enter. “After a few good nights… he wasn’t home in time for Hollow Hour. So I went back out to look for him. And…”
Little Chelsea entered the “diner,” which was clearly as much a bar as any other place in Dark Side. She looked around, but her eyes began to lose hope when she couldn’t spot her father.
“Hey, little lady,” said the large woman behind the bar. She cleaned a glass as she spoke, not looking at the child.
“Where’s my daddy?” little Chelsea asked.
“Your daddy’s not here. Said he was turnin’ in early.”
Little Chelsea looked confused, and then suddenly turned to race out the door. She sprinted out of Dark Side, lighters in hand as she ran. Hollows swarmed her, but none touched her. Fire flew free and wild, blasting apart Hollows left and right while Chelsea never stopped running, her breaths coming frantic and desperate.
She made it back to Reiner Manor unharmed and hastened up the stairs. She paused a moment at the closed door of her father’s bedroom, and then, with a determined gaze, pushed open the door.
Chelsea turned away from the image, and the scene faded. “I told you,” she said, staring out into the darkness. “I’ve seen that scene enough times. You don’t need to show me again.”
But there were sounds. Little Chelsea’s voice, confused, asking, “Daddy…?”
And then Chelsea’s father’s voice, hoarse and hollow: “Chelsea.”
There was a sudden explosive sound that made Caleb jump. A moment later, he realized what it was.
A…
…gunshot.
Chelsea stood there, eyes closed, hands clenched into fists. Caleb came to her and held her hand, and she rested her forehead against his chest.
“Just one word,” she said softly. “My name. That’s all he said. Just my name. And then he… he…” She squeezed Caleb’s hand tighter and tighter, leaning more and more into him, her voice taut. “He took his own life right in front of me.”
Dark Side vanished around them, and they stood in bleak, endless emptiness. In the distance, little Chelsea could be heard crying faintly. “My fault…” she sobbed softly. “It’s all… my fault…”
“It’s not your fault,” Chelsea said, turning away from Caleb, still holding his hand. She gazed out into the darkness. “It’s not your fault, little one. So… stop blaming yourself. Don’t… don’t carry that guilt.”
The darkness swirled like mist, forming a new scene. Chelsea, now a high schooler, stood in front of the closed door to her parents’ bedroom. Lorelei stood beside her.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Lorelei asked.
Teen Chelsea’s eyes gleamed with fierce determination. “Yes,” she said. She pushed open the door.
Inside was the great master bedroom of Reiner Manor, though everything was now coated in a fine layer of dust. Chelsea’s eyes tracked downward, to a faint, dark stain in the doorway. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her lighter. Gazing into the room, for a moment she hesitated.
Then she clicked her lighter.
Fire blazed forth, filling and consuming everything in the room. It didn’t spread beyond the doorway, it didn’t blow out the windows or tear through walls and floors to reach other rooms. It burned only what was inside the master bedroom.
After several long, silent minutes of watching, Chelsea lowered her lighter. The fires subsided. She nodded to Lorelei, who stepped forward, coating her hand with icy mist. With that icy hand she gripped the doorknob and pulled the door closed. Without another word, the girls turned away, leaving the Manor behind.
“That was the last time I went back,” Chelsea said as the scene faded. “I thought… I thought I could burn my rage, burn the past, burn… everything that weighed so heavily on me.” She shook her head. “But that wasn’t the way. None of that rage, none of that grief, went away. Not with destruction.” She gave Caleb’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It took love.” She turned back to him, smiling, eyes wet with tears. “I hate to revisit these things. It hurts, and it’ll always hurt. But I don’t have to be broken by the past. I don’t have to give into my darkness. Because of light. And because… of the people I’ve been so blessed to share my life with.” She stepped forward, embracing Caleb, and he hugged her back tightly.
“The darkness has no hold over us,” Chelsea whispered.
“The darkness has no hold over us,” Caleb echoed, smiling.
For a while they stood there in the emptiness, in the gloom, filled with hope.
But after a few moments…
The ground suddenly gave way.
They barely were able to gasp out a breath before they were falling. Caleb formed a Mobility disc, but it shattered before it could fully form. He tried again, and again, to the same results. They were falling faster, faster, faster, wind rushing around them, cold and harsh. Chelsea’s owl grabbed onto Chelsea’s hand, beating his wings fiercely, but he couldn’t slow their descent.
“You have no power over us!” Chelsea screamed against the rushing wind. “And you never will!”
And though they were still falling, the wind suddenly ceased. Into the silence spoke a chilling, wicked voice.
If you cannot be turned…
Then die.
Caleb suddenly slammed against sharp, jagged rocks, screaming in pain. He held Chelsea close, trying to shield her, but the ground sloped sharply, and they were falling, tumbling, rolling over each other across slicing, razor-sharp stone. All was spinning and whirling, disorienting. Caleb’s mind filled with pain and he struggled to get a grasp on his thoughts, to shield Chelsea, to come to a stop, to break free of this agonizing descent.
And then suddenly the slope ended, and they tumbled across cold, smooth stone to a sudden stop. Panting, bleeding, wincing, Caleb and Chelsea lay side-by-side, just barely holding each other’s hands. Caleb’s back and arms were afire with pain, and his legs stung and bristled with suddenly abating numbness.
Even the white, beautiful owl Summon hadn’t been spared. He lay between Caleb and Chelsea, wings tattered and folded beneath his body, soft coos coming out soft and ragged.
“Caleb…” Chelsea managed weakly. Her fingers brushed along his, until she could hold his index finger tightly.
“You see?” came Chelsea’s voice, clear and strong. Footsteps echoed on the stone, and then Chelsea’s other came into view, smiling down at them. “The darkness is not to be trifled with. And now you’ve made it angry.” She chuckled. “You’re never, ever, going to leave this place.”