These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(16)

There’s already a line of young women tittering excitedly in the flood of moonlight at the river’s edge. Some are dressed in elaborate ball gowns, others in simple cotton frocks that are likely the nicest thing they own. They’re all waiting for the portal to open, staring at the riverbank as if it’s their own personal path to salvation. Fools.

Avoiding the crowds and the moonlight, I head to the dense grove of trees beyond. Blindly, I strip off my clothes, peeling my shirt and pants from my sweat-drenched limbs before searching the satchel for the dress Nik packed. The fabric is thin and silky, and when I pull it over my head, it slides like cool water over my skin.

I clutch the crystal at my neck. I don’t know how well amulets of protection work, but I escaped Gorst’s men tonight. If this necklace can get me to Faerie safely, I may never take it off.

I huddle against a tree, hidden by the darkness, and watch the moon climb higher in the sky until, finally, gasps and delighted laughter drift toward me.

“It’s opened.”

“The portal has opened!”

“The golden queen welcomes us!”

“Prince Ronan awaits!”

I tuck my amulet into my dress and slowly emerge from the shadows, stepping into the line of women. We wait our turn to walk through the portal. I clutch my hands to resist the urge to smooth my hair and wipe the sweat off my brow. If I keep my head down, maybe they won’t notice that I’m not dressed as finely as they are.

I’m not like these women. I’ve never wanted to be a faerie princess, never dreamed of the day I could dance with the immortals at one of their legendary balls. But tonight I recognize my luck. Once I’m on the other side of the portal, Gorst’s men can’t touch me.

With that thought, I lift my head to see the woman in front of me step off the bank and into the sheer five-foot drop to the river—only to vanish into thin air.

“Go on now,” the woman behind me says. “It’s your turn. Don’t hold up the line.”

“I just . . . jump?” I ask.

She laughs. “No, silly. If you jump, you’ll fall right into the river. You have to walk to the portal above the water. You must believe it’s there, or it won’t work.”

I gape at the rushing river beyond the bank. Fear climbs on my back and weighs me down.

“Go on,” she says. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I fall into the water, get pulled under, and have the rapids beat my body against the rocks until I drown?”

She laughs as if I just said something hilarious. “Go on now.”

“Right. Just believe.” So simple.

“Have any of you ladies seen a redheaded young woman with a scar on her wrist?” someone asks farther down the line. “She’s a thief, and we have a cash reward for the first person who helps us find her.”

The woman behind me drops her gaze to my wrist.

I press my palm to my amulet, and I don’t just walk over the riverbank. I run.





Chapter Five


MY BACK TEETH CLANG TOGETHER as I slam onto my knees. Pain radiates up my legs, and when I open my eyes, a clear moonlit sky shines above me. I scramble to my feet and turn back to the river, but it’s gone. The forest beyond is also gone. The only trees are far in the distance. All around me, streams of women appear out of thin air, arriving from portals all over Elora.

This is it. This is Faerie. I made it.

An undeniable energy buzzes along my skin. As if the air is different here, as if it’s charged—an electric spiderweb waiting to trap humans like flies.

I scan the faces around me, looking for any sign of the woman who looked eager to turn me in for the reward. I can’t find her in the crowd—not that she could do much on this side of the portal. Instead, I see young women rushing happily toward a golden footbridge that leads to a mammoth castle. Golden spires line the horizon, poking up into the night sky. The stone walls shimmer in the starlight. Mother described it just like this in our bedtime stories—castle walls of crushed quartz, floors of marble, the night sky an endless blanket of shimmering stars.

When we were younger, Jas and I used to dream of this place. It was like a game. We’d imagine running away to Faerie through the solstice portal and finding Mother. We’d describe how excited she’d be to see us and list the countless reasons that had kept her from returning. As the years passed and Mother never visited, when she never returned to free us from our contract, the game held less and less appeal for me. I didn’t want to think of my mother, or the reasons she’d failed us. I didn’t want to talk about her anymore, and imagining a reunion made my stomach hurt.

But now that I’m here, I can’t help but wonder if she is too, if she survived this dangerous land all these years, if she’s . . . happy.

I’m at least a hundred yards from the footbridge and castle gates, but even this far back, swarms of women line up eagerly. I expected the crowd to be overwhelming, but I never could have imagined this. Women push past one another to take their place in line. Their desperation makes me equal parts sad and on my guard.

“Oh, girl,” the woman behind me says. “You won’t get in like that.”

I stiffen as I turn to her. “What do you mean I won’t get in?”

She frowns, looking me over, then pulls a handkerchief from her purse. I don’t know how I look, but she is radiant—a canary yellow dress with a fitted bodice and full skirt, her dark hair falling in perfect bouncing curls over her shoulders.