Nether

18. A Memory of Me

Roane's uncle returns on the second day. I scramble to my feet, rush to meet him, and reach a hand to help him step over the rubble. Addamack appears beside me and does the same, but Ulrec refuses us both.

"I can't stay. The Swelling begins shortly. When the noise upstairs subsides, you can come through this entrance. I've piled soiled robes just here," he says motioning inside of the entrance. I peek past him. In the dim light, I see the pile of dirty and torn robes on a long wooden table.

"They are of dead brothers. The scent should help ward off any suspicion, human or otherwise," he says, gazing to the Faerie troops along the room. "The front of the hoods are sheer enough to see, but not enough to be seen. Still, keep your head down. Templars are meek and rarely raise their heads. When you leave here, go straight up the stairs in a line. The streets are chaos and you can disband then. Follow the crowd to the Palace courtyard. The ceremony will take place there." He runs his gaze along all of us. "Best of luck to all of you."

He makes to turn, but I grab his arm and stay him. "How is Roane?"

His lips press to a tight line. "He's coping, but please," he says to all of us, "I took on the burden of this darkness because I didn't have a choice. Roane may not have a choice, but he has a chance at something better. Free him, free our people."

"We are prepared to lay down our lives to honor our king's wishes," Addamack says with a certainty that chills my bones. I only hope Finvarra's wishes are truly the same as mine, to save Roane and not destroy him. He hates the trolls, but I pray with every fiber of me he's willing to put aside past differences and uphold his word to help us contain the darkness and end this vicious imprisonment of the trolls.

Urlec nods, and with a faint smile at both of us, goes back into the tunnel and through the room. He lowers a thick rug and shields the opening.

The minutes feel like hours. The hours feel like days. When silence finally stretches upstairs and the footsteps subside, we assemble before Addamack in front of the opening in the wall

"We stay together," he says, his voice a whisper. "And stay vigilant. Magics from the human realm intend to ambush the ceremony and once Roane is king, whoever kills him will inherit the darkness. The Magics cannot win, or else they'll be able to take the darkness out of the Nether. Our best hope is for Roane to resist the darkness. If the new bond is never established, we can free them from this horrible place."

Placing a hand on a soldier's shoulder, the rest follow suit and we form a web between us. "We pray our Father. We pray our Mother. Bless our spirits and our journey home."

My breath catches, remembering Roane praying the same. It hits me then. This is real, and everything comes down to this day. My eyes tear. But as the sentries lower their hands from my shoulders and I lower mine from theirs, I realize that yes, this is real. An entire race is close to freedom. Everything the Great Mistress worked for, fought for, died for is real. And we're close to finally achieving it, a world where magic isn't divided, where there is a place for us all.

I repeat the prayer because scared as I am, this is real and I'm ready.

One of Addamack's men pushes the heavy rug aside and we cross into the small room. Dusty, empty crates line the walls, and stacks of books are pushed against them.

One of Fae trails a hand along a dusty volume. Rubbing his fingers together, he opens the hardcover. A cloud of dust blows before his eyes, but as he waves it away, a small smile tips his lips. It's the first bit of emotion I've seen on their stoic faces.

"They are fairy tales from Forever," Addamack says, sliding on his dingy robe. "I wonder what they're doing abandoned down here."

"Roane said someone had tried to bring literature into the Nether, but they were killed." I look to the twisted symbols. Though not understanding them, sadness still finds my heart. "The king doesn't want hope for his people."