3.

  Faelwen

  The stew sputtered as it simmered above the hearth, thick with the scent of garlic and crushed herbs. Heat rolled through the kitchen in slow waves, clinging to the stone walls and the wooden beams overhead. Chasing away the chill from outside.

  Bundles of drying leaves and braided garlic hung from their hooks, decorating the walls. And a loaf of bread rested on the windowsill, its crust still warm and its scent soft and reassuring. Home in its purest form.

  “It smells incredible, little fox,” Spook murmured as he walked into the kitchen. I felt him before I saw him, his presence a familiar gravity at my back. He wrapped his arms around me and leaned in, giving me a gentle kiss into my hair. I smiled, turning slightly away to stir the pot so it wouldn’t boil over.

  “Your daughter helped me with the vegetables,” I said. There was a momentary pause before Spook answered with a low chuckle: “Oh. That explains the battlefield I heard in here.”

  I snorted softly, shaking my head.

  “She’s… enthusiastic. And clumsy.” I nudged his shoulder with my elbow. “She takes after you.”

  His brow arched, mock-offended.

  “I’m not clumsy.”

  Before I could respond, his hands were on me and the world tilted as he lifted me effortlessly onto the counter. firelight caught in the silver at his temples, turning his hair to burnished steel. Instinct took over; my legs wrapped around his waist as if they had always known where they belonged.

  His mouth found mine.

  The kiss began slowly and exploratory. Warm lips, familiar breath. Then it deepened, his teeth grazing my lower lip just enough to draw a quiet gasp from my chest. Heat bloomed low in my belly and my fingers traced the sharp line of his jaw.

  I pulled back first.

  “Why did you stop?” He murmured, voice rough with promise of more, already chasing my mouth again. His tongue brushed my lip, coaxing, unhurried.

  I smiled, breathless.

  “The children could walk in at any moment.”

  He hummed thoughtfully, as if considering this, then leaned in anyway.

  “They’re not here yet.”

  His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheek, while the other slid along my thigh. Firm, possessive and achingly familiar. Fire flared inside me.

  It had taken us so long to get here. After losing Elora and Ash. Grief had hollowed us out, left us wandering through days that felt empty and nights that stretched too wide. We had both loved deeply before, but lost this love too soon. And for a long time, neither of us knew how to reach for something living again without feeling like we were betraying Elora and Ash.

  But love, I had learned, was not a finite thing. Spook had found his way into my heart not by replacing Ash, but by standing beside the memory of him.

  Ash would always live there, etched into my soul. Just as Elora would forever be a part of Spook. Our hearts had simply… grown. Made room for each other. I had kept my promise to Ash and learned how to live again. For the both of us.

  “MOM!”

  Milo’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. My body went rigid, every nerve snapping to attention. Something in his tone sent a chill crawling up my spine.

  “DAD!”

  Spook stilled against me, the warmth between us fading. I jumped down from the counter, the impact jarring my spine. Pain flared sharp and immediate, stealing a breath from my lungs.

  “Careful, sweetheart,” Spook said, worry cutting through his voice as his hands steadied me.

  Before either of us could reach the door, it flew open. Milo burst inside. His eyes were red and streaming, his breath hitching as he searched the room, until he saw us. Then he broke.

  “Milo,” I said, already moving. “What’s wrong?”

  He collided with me, arms wrapping tight around my waist as sobs tore free of his chest. I held him close, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

  “Ha…Hazel—” He hiccupped, words tangled in panic. I pulled him back gently, lowering myself to his level.

  “Breathe,” I said, steady despite the tremor creeping into my chest. “In through your nose. Slowly… now out.”

  He followed me—ragged at first, then steadier. One breath. Then another. The shaking eased and colour returned to his face, though his eyes remained red and bright with fear.

  Spook stepped closer, kneeling beside him. His hand settled on Milo’s shoulder, firm and grounding.

  “Tell us exactly what happened,” he said, voice calm as stone. Milow swallowed.

  “It’s Hazel… she… she found something.”

  “What did she find?” I asked.

  He hesitated, biting his lip, glancing between us.

  “Go on,” Spook urged gently.

  “A… an amulet. And a notebook.” His voice cracked. Tears swelled again. “She said some words and then—”

  My stomach dropped.

  “She opened a… a weird magical portal or something,” he rushed on, panic spilling loose. “And it swallowed her.”

  The world went hollow. Sound drained away, leaving only the echo of his words. Amulet… notebook… portal. My ears rang. I couldn’t breathe.

  I moved without speaking, without thinking, out of the kitchen and through the living room. My steps were unsteady, vision narrowing. I reached my bedroom and fell to my knees beside the bed by the window.

  My hands shook as I pried open the loose floorboard.

  Empty.

  Except for Ash’s dagger. My breath hitched violently. Grief surged sharp and sudden, crashing into the rising terror already clawing its way up my spine.

  Where was the Runestone of Balance?

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Milo whispered behind me. His voice broke completely. I turned to face him, forcing the panic down.

  “What exactly did Hazel take?”

  His lower lip trembled. He hated this. Hated betraying his twin. I knew by the look in his eyes.

  “Milo,” I pressed, my voice tightening despite myself. “Tell me.”

  “A notebook,” he whispered. “And an amulet.”

  “If she only took those,” I said, standing abruptly, heart pounding hard enough to hurt, “then where is the spellbook? Where is the runestone?”

  He shrugged.

  “You don’t know? How’s that possible?!”

  The words came sharper than I intended. Fear constricted my throat. “You were with her. Did she have them?”

  Milo recoiled, trembling again.

  Spook stepped between us at once, one hand raised to me. Not in reprimand, but protection.

  “Son,” he said evenly, turning to Milo, “start from the beginning. Slowly.”

  Milo nodded, swallowing hard.

  “Hazel found a notebook and an amulet,” he began. “She read the words. The amulet started to glow, really bright. Then a big black hole appeared… The amulet shattered and everything got pulled toward it.”

  My chest tightened painfully.

  “Then Zuzu and Rae came,” he continued. “Zuzu told me to get you. I tried to save her,” he sobbed. “I really did. But the magic… it was too strong.”

  A single tear slipped free.

  It shattered me.

  I reached out, brushing it away with my thumb, even as my own tears burned.

  “It’s okay,” I said softly. “You couldn’t have stopped it. None of this is your fault.”

  Spook nodded.

  “Your mother is right. But maybe we can still help.” His gaze sharpened. “Take us to them.”

  Milo wiped his face with his sleeve, nodded once, and turned toward the door. As he led us out, dread settled heavy in my bones. I had a feeling we were already too late.

  We broke into a run.

  Spook and Milo surged ahead, their figures weaving between the trees, while I lagged behind. Pain screamed through my back and pelvis, sharp and unrelenting. Each step was a battle. My body demanded I stop, demanded I listen.

  I didn’t.

  My heart dragged me forward by sheer will. Worry burned hot, but beneath it flared something sharper. Anger.

  How could Hazel have been so careless? How could she have touched things she knew were forbidden?

  Branches snapped beneath my boots as the forest closed in around me. Winter was loosening its grip; pale green buds clung to the ends of branches, life creeping back into the world. The grey skeleton of the woods was slowly turning back into its lush green sea.

  A sudden sharp pain stole my legs out from under me. I cried out and collapsed. My hands sank into damp moss. Black spots crowded my vision.

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  No. Not now. Not when my children are in danger.

  Spook and Milo kept running, unaware. Their voices faded ahead of me. The forest swayed, the ground pulsing in and out of focus as I fought for breath.

  Come on, Wen. You can do this.

  I imagined Artemis saying this to me. His voice warm and familiar. Ever since he left the Mid Realm, our bond had been severed. No more telepathic communication. No more encouraging and comforting words from Artemis.

  My chest tightened painfully.

  I miss you buddy. I wish you were here.

  I sucked in a shaking breath and forced myself upright. No time to cry over that. Agony flared, white-hot, but I pushed through. Sometimes you had to. I continued running again. Step by step. Closer to my children.

  Tears burned, but the wind swept them away, cold and sharp against my face. I leaned into it and kept going.

  When I finally broke through the trees, Spook and Milo were already there—searching and calling out their names that went unanswered.

  The forest opened into a scar. Branches and leaves littered the ground as if a violent wind had torn through, twisting everything in its wake. Trees bent at unnatural angles. The soil was gouged and torn, as though something, or someone, had been dragged across it.

  There was no sign of Hazel. No Azren. No Raelynn. My heart dropped into my stomach. I listened. Not a sound.

  Nothing.

  No birdsong, no wind through the leaves. It was as if the woods held its breath. Had the portal taken them all?

  “Where are they, Milo?” Spook demanded, his voice cracking as panic rooted deep in his bones.

  “I—I don’t know,” Milo sobbed. “They were here when I left.”

  Something caught the light near my feet. I crouched slowly, fingers trembling as they brushed against the cold, broken metal. Shards of an amulet. Ash’s amulet. The one he’d worn close to his heart. The one that opened the way to the Underworld when the ley-lines still existed. The only way for us, mortal creatures, to enter the Underworld.

  My throat closed. The truth settled like ash in my lungs.

  “The portal must have closed,” I whispered, curling my fingers around the fragments. “They’re stuck in the Underworld.”

  Spook dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “No,” he breathed. “No, that can’t be. We’ll find a way. We have to. My little girl.”

  “This amulet was the way,” I said, my voice splintering. Milo broke then.

  “Are they…” his sob caught painfully. “Are they dead?”

  I pulled him into my arms at once, sinking to my knees with him, his small body shaking against mine. His face buried in my neck.

  “No,” I said fiercely, pressing a kiss into his hair. “They’re not dead. They’re somewhere else.”

  I looked up at Spook, meeting his gaze over Milo’s head, pouring every ounce of resolve I had left into that silent connection.

  “We’re going to save them,” I said. “Your dad and I. We’ll find a way.”

  I held Spook’s eyes who looked back determinedly.

  We have to.

  ? ? ?

  Back home, Spook’s voice drifted slowly from the children’s room as he spoke to Milo. His voice low and steady, wrapping words around fear the way only a father could. I left them to it and stepped outside.

  Night had claimed the sky. The moon rose pale and distant, washing the world in silver. Evening birds sang from the trees, their cheerful calls grating against the dread still clinging to my bones. The world had not noticed that everything had broken.

  We had divided the tasks. Spook would contact Valinor Wisphron—Raelynn’s father—and send word to Azurian, Azren’s uncle and Spook’s business partner. I would do what I could not explain with reason or logic.

  I would ask a god for help.

  My steps carried me to the forest’s edge, where the road wound down toward Townhaven and the distant ocean caught the moonlight, a soft shimmer on the horizon. The temperature had dropped, and I pulled my cloak tighter, leaning heavily on my walking stick.

  Not even fifty, and my body had already begun to fail me. I had always believed elven blood meant resilience. Even if I was only a half-elf. Yet mine had betrayed me early. The pain had begun when I carried Azren, deep and persistent, and worsened with the twins. Now ten years later I had learned how to dull it with magic. It bought me temporary relief, but never cured it.

  Every healing spell felt like fighting smoke while the fire burned on. Still, pain would not stop me. Nothing would.

  A sudden thought struck me so hard I had to steady myself.

  Ash.

  If I found a way into the Underworld… I could save him too. The realization hollowed my chest and guild followed swiftly. I had left him there. Left his soul in a realm of suffering and shadow while I rebuilt a life beneath the sun. My gaze drifted to his grave beside the house, quiet and unassuming beneath the moonlight.

  “I’m so sorry, my love,” I whispered into the night. “I will find a way. I promise.”

  I lifted my eyes to the sky. The Weave glimmered white-blue above me, curling like a living river through the stars and illuminating the dark. Once, it had flowed between the Mid Realm and the Underworld, the magic sustaining both realms. But after the Last War, Artemis had moved it. Redirected its current so it now flowed between the Mid Realm and the First Realm. Leaving the Underworld to slowly die out as magic faded.

  The First Realm was a realm of otherworldly beings of immense power, near-immortal, who served as intermediaries between gods and mortals providing them with greater power in exchange for devotion and knowledge.

  Above even that lay the Second Realm.

  Home of the first gods. Home of Artemis. The one person who had been with me from the start. My loyal friend and guidance. An ancient god disguised as a wolf. I remembered his last words before he returned home.

  Promise you’ll call for me if you need me.

  And now I did.

  The bond that once allowed me to speak to him mind-to-mind was gone. All I had left were words I could throw to the infinite sky.

  I swallowed.

  “Hey, buddy,” I called softly, feeling foolish the moment the words left me. “Gods… this feels strange.”

  I shifted my weight, fingers tightening around my walking stick.

  “I need you,” I said. “It’s Azren and Hazel. They’re trapped in the Underworld, and I don’t know how to reach them. You severed the ley-lines.”

  My voice wavered. “Please. Will you help me? Will you help Spook?”

  The night answered with silence.

  No sign. No whisper. Nothing.

  I exhaled slowly. Perhaps this had been foolish after all. Perhaps he was not even able to hear me at all from the Second Realm. I turned toward the house.

  Suddenly a wolf’s howl rose, long and clear, cutting through the stillness.

  I froze.

  The sound echoed against the trees, vibrating deep in my chest. I waited, heart hammering, eyes fixed on the forest’s edge.

  Nothing emerged. Minutes stretched, but the night remained unchanged.

  I shook my head and started back. Artemis had realms to watch over. Worlds to hold together. He would not abandon them for us. Maybe Valinor would know something. He was a wise scholar.

  “It has been a while, little one.”

  I stopped. The voice was behind me.

  Slowly, I turned on my heels. He stood where the forest thinned, moonlight curling around him with reverence. White robes stirred in a breeze I could not feel. Its fabric was luminous as if spun from starlight itself. His golden eyes, warm and achingly familiar, found mine at once.

  “Buddy,” I whispered.

  My legs carried me to him before my mind could catch up. I stumbled into his arms, clutching at his robes as if he were something solid in a world that had begun to fracture. He held me without hesitation, and I pressed my face against his chest.

  “It’s good to see you, Wen,” he said softly.

  I pulled back just enough to look at him, tears already threatening.

  “You have no idea how glad I am you’re here. It’s Hazel and Azren—”

  “I know,” he interrupted gently. “They’re trapped in the Underworld.”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice trembling. “Hazel found Ash’s notebook and his amulet. She used my notes and the amulet to open the portal. She also may have taken the Runestone of Balance.” My voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I promised to protect it…”

  For the first time, Artemis faltered. His face drained of colour, just slightly. His eyes widened before he mastered himself, swallowing whatever surged behind them.

  “Hazel doesn’t have the runestone,” he said quietly. “The runestone is with Azren.”

  My heart lurched.

  “I felt it,” he continued. “The moment it was carried away. When I reached this realm, it was already too late. Azren tried to save her. The portal took him and that other girl as well.”

  “Raelynn,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision. I brushed them away with shaking fingers.

  “I need to find them,” I said, the words hardening as they left me. Artemis smiled sadly, lifting a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Wen… you’re in no condition to go down there. Magic fades in that realm. And your… condition requires magic to stop the pain.”

  I frowned.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Because I watch,” he said simply. “Even from the Second Realm, I check in. On all of you.” His gaze softened. “I’ve seen the healers come and go. The spells you use just to dull the pain.”

  My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms.

  “Pain or not, I have to save them,” I said fiercely. “I’m their mother. I won’t leave their fate in my son’s hands. Even if he’s an adult of twenty years old. He’s…”

  The word caught. A deep grounding fear about his heritage I had ever since his birth, popped up again. Artemis finished it for me.

  “Different.”

  I swallowed and nodded.

  “Yes, I know,” he went on gently. “He is like his father. And you’re right, we cannot leave the Runestone of Balance, nor Hazel’s fate, in his care.”

  Ash flickered through my mind. He had always walked a narrow line between light and shadow, restraint and temptation. Magic had pulled at him in ways it didn’t pull at others. He had fought his desire for power. Every day.

  But Azren—

  There had always been something else. His eyes. The way his green eyes vanished when emotion overtook him, replaced not by darkness, but by absence. Obsidian black. Even the whites would disappear. And his ears… rounded, like those of humans, when both his parents bore pointed elven ears.

  I had told myself it meant nothing. A lie to myself. Only one being I knew bore eyes like that. And he was evil incarnated.

  “I’ll find them, Wen,” Artemis said, pulling me back to the present. “I promise.”

  I met his gaze, desperation clawing up my throat.

  “Is there something I can do? Don’t ask me to stay here and wait. I can’t.”

  “You won’t,” he said. “You can help me here, in the Mid Realm. My brethren and I are still searching for a way to close the rift to the Abyss in the Underworld. They’re consulting other celestials.” His eyes sharpened. “You, however, can speak to the otherworldly beings. You already know one of them.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “If even the ancient gods don’t know how to close it, how would they know?”

  Artemis pressed his lips together.

  “Because unlike us, they are driven by study. By growth. They need to understand creation, magic and the structure of worlds, because knowledge is the only path they have to ascend.”

  “Ascend?” The word felt strange in my mouth.

  “There is hierarchy in every layer of the universe,” Artemis explained. “Otherworldly beings who are often born of celestials or ancient gods, may never become what we are. But with enough power, enough understanding, they may earn a place among us.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “I’m learning something new every day.”

  He chuckled softly.

  “Will you try? Speak to them. Search where we cannot.”

  “I will,” I said without hesitation. “Like you said, I already know one.”

  His smile widened. “Aeon Tempus.”

  I smiled faintly in return. “The Returner.”

  Aeon Tempus, or the Returner known by the humans, had helped us during the Last War, twenty years ago. My mother had gone to him to block my magic so I wouldn’t leave magical footprints for the Fiend to find me after my father’s bargain doomed my soul before I was even born. Aeon had undone it later and taught me how to use my magic.

  He lived near Andw?ne Mere, and rumour claimed he had held his ground alone when the Fiend’s armies came, slaughtering nearly half of them himself.

  “I’ll go to him,” I said. “If anyone knows how to fix this problem… it’s Aeon,” I said.

  And for the first time since the portal had swallowed two of my children, a fragile hope stirred again.

  Though the weight on my chest eased a little knowing Artemis would get my children into safety and I could aid by visiting Aeon, a question still clung to me.

  “How will you get them out of the Underworld?” I asked quietly. “And… how will we find you again?”

  Artemis smiled, the kind of smile that held centuries of knowledge in it.

  “I created the realms, Wen,” he said gently. “I know them better than anyone. I’ll get them out.”

  He lowered his staff, the white orb at its peak shimmering faintly, like moonlight on water. He murmured words I could not follow, syllables as ancient as the beginning of times, and suddenly the orb cracked.

  A thin fracture spread across its surface with a soft, crystalline sound. With careful fingers, he pried a shard loose from the silver-white sphere. From within his robes he produced a simple, iron-bound necklace, and set the shard into its holder. Then he pressed it into my palm.

  “When I returned fully to myself, I left your mind completely,” he said. “That bond is gone. But this will bridge the distance.” His eyes softened. “It works the same as the sending stone Elora used during the war.”

  I curled my fingers around the crystal. Within it, a pale blue-silver light swirled, alive and aware.

  “Just hold it in your hands,” he continued, “whisper my name, and I will hear you.”

  “Thank you, buddy,” I said quietly, slipping the chain over my head. Elora’s face surfaced in my thoughts. Our brave and fearless friend, even when fear would have been reasonable. She was the daughter of the Lady and Lord of Caradsher?n and Spook’s previous girlfriend.

  I smiled softly, remembering how distant she had seemed when we first met. Watching with amused patience as we stumbled through emotions she had already lived through decades ago. And yet, in the end, she had chosen to remain with us. Fought beside us and loved us like we loved her.

  “I should go,” Artemis said gently. “The longer we wait, the longer they remain trapped.”

  I drew a steadying breath and met his gaze.

  “Good luck, buddy. And… thank you.”

  “Of course, little one,” he said. “Always. Because we—”

  “Are pact,” I finished.

  His smile deepened. He pressed a brief, tender kiss to my temple, then stepped back. Gripping his staff with both hands, he raised it high and brought it down with a decisive thrum.

  Mist poured outward, thick and luminous. The air crackled, magic buzzing against my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms. When the fog cleared, a familiar shape stood before me.

  A wolf.

  Grey and brown fur, eyes molten gold. Smaller than most of his kind—no larger than a dog—but no less imposing for it.

  “I always forget how little you are as a wolf,” I grinned. He grumbled, clearly offended. I laughed softly and ruffled his fur. He shook himself, then nudged my leg once before turning away.

  The space before him tore open. A black portal yawned wide. Different from the ones I was used to. This was more of a rift. A tear in the universe. There was no golden path like it used to have, no guiding light. It drank the world around it, tugging leaves, dust, even air itself into its gaping maw. Power radiated from it, cold and hungry.

  My breath caught as it pulled me closer, dragging me forward. I hit the ground hard, fingers clawing uselessly at the earth. Blood pounded in my ears.

  “Artemis!” I cried, panic surging as the darkness crept closer. But he was already stepping through. The rift sealed behind him with a sound like an old tome shutting close. And I was left alone in utter, deafening silence so deep it rang in my ears. Breathing heavily.