This is why I drove to Georgia.
Look at this, I wanted to tell the guys. Our window to go after Bas is closing.
But then how would I explain the eight months it took me to go for them?
The Sight. I was waiting for the Sight.
I've been lost without it, and I didn't want to risk any of you getting hurt again.
I just didn't trust myself.
In my head, they sound like weak excuses. In my heart, they've felt real and justified. But after days of thinking on the drive to Georgia and back, I realized I don't need anyone's help to go after Sebastian-or even want it.
I can do this alone. It's dangerous, but what part of this hasn't been? And if something goes wrong this time, I'll be the only one who will pay the price.
I slide the orb into the outer pocket and move around my room, gathering my rain parka, phone, notebook. When Bastian and Samrael went through the portal last fall, I saw impressions of a frozen landscape, ice and snow and jagged mountains like the Tetons, so I pack gloves, my wool beanie, and a scarf.
In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water and a couple of granola bars, then hesitate over the knife drawer, open it, close it, open it, grab a three-inch paring knife.
If you run into trouble, are you going to peel your attacker?
For that matter, why bring the notebook? Do I really think there will be breaks to sit down and write?
The journal stays because it's my security blanket, but I switch the paring knife for a longer cutting knife, which I have even less confidence in. I'm strong and fast, but I'm not exactly Katniss. I have no experience of any kind in fighting, but it's no time for hesitation. I zip up my pack and I'm out the door, rain slapping at my shoulders as I jog to the barn.
Shadow watches me with alert eyes as I tack her up. Like all the guys with their mounts, Bas could get Shadow to call up her otherworldly tack. He could also get her to shift into threads of darkness, taking him with her. Folding, they called it. But without Bas, Shadow hasn't done any of that. She's been stuck in her horse state, so I have to use a regular harness, bit, and saddle. My hands start shaking as I fasten a lariat to her saddle, the reality of what I'm doing sinking in, but I get it done and bring her out into the rain. Then I mount up and we're off.
Shadow settles into a confident trot, navigating the mud puddles, rocks, and fallen branches without a stumble, despite the storm and the darkness.
She's much more confident than I am. I have to keep reminding myself to loosen my grip on the reins and stay gentle with her mouth.
As I ride toward the Snake River, the headlights from the main road are the first to disappear, then the porch light of the Smith Cabin.
Home, Daryn.
Will you ever call it home?
By the time I find the trail that follows the river, there's no sign of mankind and I'm soaked in spite of my raincoat. All I hear is water-rushing, dripping, and flowing. My backpack thumps against my lower back, heavy with the weight of the orb, and the grass blurs beneath me.
I'm so caught up in being alternately amazed at my bravery and furious at my recklessness that the ride passes quickly and I reach the stand of long pines sooner than I expect. The trail is overgrown and harder to see at night, but I find it and take Shadow up the hill, stopping at the top-a perfect secluded spot with no houses or roads around for miles.
Dismounting, I scan the night to make sure I'm alone. Then I say a quick prayer for Isabel, Bas, and for Shadow and me, before I reach inside my backpack for the orb.
It feels unnaturally heavy in my left hand. I take Shadow's reins firmly in my right.
When I opened the realm before, I knew I could do it. Knew in my soul how to do something I'd never done. I remember that moment-Samrael blackmailing me. Bas's life at stake. As I opened the portal, I felt Samrael poisoning the beautiful energy that had run through me. I felt him tainting the portal with his evil just before Bas sacrificed himself, launching into Samrael, sending them both hurtling into the realm.
That was how last time went. This time I'm on my own.
"Okay. Here we go." My pulse thundering, I draw a final fortifying breath and ask the orb to open, a request that whispers through my soul.
The orb's energy stirs and I feel it. Buzzing warmth that seeps into my hand and then hums down to my elbows, spreading through my chest and down my legs until it's a continuous wave, rolling through me.
In my palm, the orb is a small maelstrom of everything. Twisting fire and flowing water. Cold black granite and pillowy clouds. Earth, sky, stars. Laughter and tears. All churning with a speed I shouldn't be able to track, but easily do.