Her body shook in the frigid water.
Something cold and slimy brushed her cheek, and the words deadman’s fingers rang in her mind. She thrashed in the darkness as an ice-cold hand grabbed her foot. What the fuck is happening?
More hands grasped her limbs, pulling her deeper. Agony inflamed her lungs, as water began to trickle down her throat. She jerked and twitched in the grasp of the fingers. The hands were all over her, clammy fingers pulling her mouth open.
Cold water rushed in, and her lungs spasmed. I’m dying. With each spasm, more water filled her lungs, dousing the flames of her magic.
“Remember the darkness. Only the darkness will save you.” the voices whispered. The hands released her, and a light appeared above her.
Am I dying? No, she couldn’t accept it. She’d hardly begun to live, and she still had no idea who she really was.
The voices were lying—where there was light, there was air. Life.
Fighting her body’s desire to convulse, she stretched out her arms, kicking her legs to swim upward. The circle of light grew larger. Her lungs burned.
She kicked her legs, reaching for the light. If she weren’t drowning, she would have sighed with relief as one of her hands brushed something solid. A final kick and her fingers broke the surface. Pain ripped her mind apart, and it took every last bit of strength to control her body. She clawed, grasping at an edge. With the last of her strength, she heaved herself up.
And then she was gasping. Coughing. Cold water pouring from her mouth, hot tears streaming from her eyes.
Chapter 4
Ursula lay on a marble floor in the fetal position, as she coughed up another lungful of water.
Cera wiped the wet hair from Ursula’s face. “Earthly gods below, what took you so long?”
Ursula sucked in a deep breath, trying to find her voice again. “There were dead things in there, dragging me down.”
“Oh, dear. The Forgotten Ones found you?”
Ursula rolled onto her back, staring up at a ceiling painted with constellations. Her teeth chattered, and she hugged her naked body. “The Forgotten Ones? Is that what they are? They took my fire.”
Cera sighed. She’d already dressed in a cozy-looking black robe. “There wasn’t time to warn you, but at least we’ve escaped the dragon.”
Ursula forced herself up on her elbows, surveying her surroundings. She lay in the center of a round room, her feet dangling in a clear, circular pool no more than six inches deep. Was it really possible that she’d been drowning in this shallow water just moments ago? She’d nearly died.
Around the room, thin columns flanked windows that reached from the floor to ceiling. Through the glass, a gray landscape stretched out under a canopy of gleaming stars. Only a few rocks interrupted the flat horizon—no buildings, nor trees or any sign of life. Where the hell are we? Her teeth chattered.
Before she could form one of the million questions on the tip of her tongue, the little demon came up behind her and handed her a velvet robe. “Perhaps you should put this on.”
Ursula took it gladly, wrapping it around her freezing shoulders. Instantly, her muscles began to relax.
Enveloped by the robe, she glanced out the window again.
Ursula drew in a slow breath, her gaze drifting upward. Above the stark landscape, the pale wash of the Milky Way splashed across the night sky, more vivid than she’d ever seen. Too vivid. This is not Earth.
Her breath caught in her throat. “I guess we’re not in Brooklyn.”
Cera snorted. “No, we’re not in Brooklyn. The Shadow Realm is on the moon.”
“The moon,” she repeated, turning to gape at Cera.
“Of course. Nyxobas’s water carried you here,” said Cera, crossing the room to a black door. She cast a critical eye over Ursula’s bedraggled hair. “Shall I show you to your quarters? You look half-dead.”
“Okay,” said Ursula absently. Barefoot, she padded over cold marble as she followed Cera, still trying to process the fact that she’d left the earth. She didn’t feel any lighter. Shouldn’t she be floating around the room?
Cera pushed open the door. “This way.”
Ursula followed Cera into the cold air, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were outside.
Outside. On the moon. Without a spacesuit or helmet. They stood on a milky, marble bridge, a thousand feet above a deep, cratered valley. The bridge spanned the space between two round towers.
Ursula paused as a bitterly cold wind ruffled her hair, gripping the marble ledge to peer into the crater. Her pulse raced. In the center of the caldera, a towering spire of purple glass loomed above them. Unlike the sleek lines of New York’s skyscrapers, this tower was all jagged edges and sharp angles.