Yet the Enchanted Spring is still there. Its waters cooled by the snow, but hopefully its magick still holds. I kneel down beside it and immerse both my hands, filling my palms with water I use to cleanse the wound at my chest. My friends’ murmuring voices fading into the background as I silently state my intentions. Reminded of what Paloma said about it being magick’s most important ingredient.
I intend to heal and empower myself.
I intend to uncover the truth of what happened here after I left.
I intend for that truth to lead me to Dace.
And once Dace is safe, I intend to confront Cade—and this time, I intend to kill him.
My reverie broken by Xotichl calling to me, “Daire—I think you better come see this.”
twelve
Daire
Xotichl stands before me, the hilt of a bloody knife grasped in both hands.
My blood.
My knife.
The one Cade used against me.
Her hands begin to tremble, and soon after, the rest of her follows. The sight of her head lolling from side to side, prompting Lita to shriek, “Is she okay? Should we do something to help her?” Her eyes search mine, desperate for guidance.
“Don’t touch her,” I warn, slowly creeping toward Xotichl as Lita scrambles out of the way. “She’ll be okay. She’s just seeing, that’s all.” I clamp my lips together and hope that it’s true.
Xotichl’s breath grows increasingly agitated. Her body violently shudders. And I’m just about to intervene when the knife slips from her fingers and lands in a thud at our feet.
Lita squeals.
Xotichl lifts her face to mine and in a steady voice says, “It’s all there. I could tell you if you want, but I think you should see it for yourself.”
I hold my open palm above the athame and focus hard on the hilt, but the knife remains stubbornly in place. Guess the days spent in the sickbed have left my telekinesis a bit rusty. With no other choice, I retrieve it the old-fashioned way, by kneeling and closing my fingers around it. The contact of flesh on wood is enough to instantly trigger a cache of stored images to storm through my head.
My battle with Cade, fading into the moment Dace appeared. Only he wasn’t the same. His eyes no longer glinting, no longer reflecting, they looked just like Cade’s—a dull, fathomless abyss, absorbing instead of reflecting.
It’s temporary, Dace claimed. Not to worry.
He did it for us—did it to save me.
To save me.
When all of this time it was me who was meant to save him.
Like most souls, mine is comprised of both light and dark, while Dace’s is preternaturally pure.
It was his light that was destined to die.
I rub my lips together, tighten my grip, and ready myself for the part that comes next. The moment it all falls apart. With Cade in demon form, and Coyote doubled in size, Dace and I were outmatched.
Only this time, when Axel whisks me high into the sky, I’m able to watch what I couldn’t before.
Raven flying after us, trailing for a very long distance, until he came across some kind of barrier and was forced to turn back.
Dace slamming the athame into himself without hesitation. Willing to pay the ultimate price in order to keep his twin from destroying the world.
It’s not until Lita’s hands clasp tightly over mine, and Xotichl yells, “Don’t let her drop it! There’s still more to see!” that I realized I screamed.