AI The air inside the grove tasted like crushed mint and static . Aurora stepped past the ring of ancient oak standing stones, her boots sinking into a carpet of wildflowers that didn't snap under her weight . They hummed against her soles. Behind her, the sunset of Richmond Park vanished, replaced by a sky the color of a bruised plum, streaked with veins of gold.
"The logic of the city doesn't apply here, Rory."
Nyx drifted alongside her, their form flickering like a candle flame in a draft. In this pocket of existence, the Shade appeared more solid, their hooded silhouette casting a long, violet-tinted shadow that moved independently of the light.
Aurora gripped the silver chain of the Heartstone Pendant. The crimson gem throbbed against her palm, a rhythmic heat that synchronized with her pulse .
"The silence is too loud."
She spoke softly, but her voice echoed as if they walked through a cathedral of glass rather than a thicket of trees. To her left, a stream flowed uphill, the water glowing with a soft, phosphorescent milkiness. Translucent fish with wings instead of fins breached the surface, humming melodic chords before diving back into the pale current.
"Time is a loose garment in the grove. Don't let the rhythm of the water lull you. We seek the Seer, not a permanent residence in the Fae’s memory."
Nyx’s voice carried the rasp of dry leaves skittering across stone. They glided over a patch of ferns that uncurled like waking tongues as they passed.
Aurora adjusted the weight of the Fae-forged blade at her hip. The moonsilver hilt remained glacially cold, a stark contrast to the stifling, honey-thick warmth of the air. She reached out to touch a weeping willow whose branches consisted of spun gossamer and tiny, glass bells.
"Don't. Some of these beauties have teeth."
Nyx didn't turn back, but a shadowy tendril whipped out to nudge Aurora’s hand away. A second later, the willow’s bells chimed a discordant, predatory note. The ground beneath them began to slope downward, leading toward a hollow where the trees grew in unnatural spirals, twisting toward each other to form a living tunnel.
Light here didn't come from a sun. It bled from the plants themselves. Fungi shaped like tiered pagodas clung to the spiral trees, breathing out clouds of spores that shimmered like diamond dust. Aurora covered her nose, the scent of the powder cloying and sweet, reminiscent of overripe peaches and ozone.
"Isolde? We were told you'd be waiting."
Aurora’s shout died quickly, swallowed by the moss-covered walls of the hollow.
A figure shimmered into existence atop a flat, grey boulder at the center of the clearing. Isolde didn't stand so much as inhabit the space. Her silver hair cascaded down her back like a frozen waterfall, and her lavender eyes held the vacant, terrifying clarity of a frozen lake. She wore a gown woven from dragonfly wings and morning mist.
"Waiting is a human concept, Aurora Carter. I am simply here. You are simply late. Or perhaps you are early. The stars in this sky do not count the hours like your ticking clocks."
Isolde stepped off the boulder. Her feet, bare and pale, pressed into the grass, but the blades did not bend. She left no footprints, no proof of her physical presence.
"The pendant is screaming."
Aurora pulled the Heartstone from beneath her shirt. The crimson light now flooded the clearing, casting jagged, bloody shadows against the silver trees. It vibrated with a frantic, metallic whine.
"It recognizes the proximity to the Veil. You stand on a seam, little mortal. The silk is fraying. Dymas hungers, and Belphegor’s kitchen never closes its doors to a fresh soul."
Isolde circled them, her movements fluid and disjointed. She stopped in front of Nyx, her head tilting at an impossible angle.
"And you. A ghost in a suit of ink. Do you still remember the smell of bread? Or did the shadows eat the memory of your mother’s kitchen along with your name?"
Nyx’s violet eyes flared. Their form billowed, darkening the immediate air.
"My memories are my own, Half-Fae. We didn't come for an audit of my soul. We came for the vision. The rift in the East End is deepening."
Isolde laughed, a sound like breaking crystal . She reached out, her fingers hovering inches from the Fae-forged blade at Aurora’s waist. The moonsilver metal groaned, a faint blue luminescence pulsing along the leaf-shaped edge.
"You carry a tooth of my people and ask for a map through the dark. Do you feel the cold of it? It remembers the forge. It remembers the blood of the things it was made to unmake."
Isolde turned her gaze back to Aurora. The lavender in her eyes swirled, the pupils expanding until the irises disappeared.
"The Veil shimmers because it is thin enough to breathe through. Look toward the stream. Tell me what color you see in the depths ."
Aurora stepped toward the uphill-flowing water. She knelt at the bank. The milky luminescence had vanished. In its place, the water showed a reflection that wasn't hers. She saw a sky of burning amber. She saw sprawling vineyards where the grapes were the size of human heads, dripping with a juice that looked suspiciously like dark wine. She saw figures in white toques wielding knives over slabs of meat that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic life.
"It’s orange. Like a permanent sunset."
Aurora recoiled as the water suddenly hissed. A bubble rose to the surface, popping to release the smell of roasted meat and sulfur.
"Gluttony has an excellent palate. Prince Belphegor is crafting a masterpiece, and you, Aurora, are the secret ingredient he’s missing."
Isolde drifted closer, her presence bringing a chill that fought the grove’s humid heat.
"The Heartstone wasn't a gift of protection. It was a dinner invitation. Every pulse announces your location to the Wardens of the Pit."
Aurora looked down at the crimson gem. It felt heavier now, a leaden weight dragging at her neck. The silver chain seemed to tighten.
"How do I stop it? How do I close the door?"
Isolde smiled, revealing teeth that were much too sharp and much too white.
"You don't close a door that was never meant to be a door. You're not looking at a portal, Rory. You're looking at a mouth. And it's already started to chew."
A low rumble vibrated through the ground, a sound felt in the marrow of the bone rather than heard. The standing stones at the edge of the grove groaned. The sky's violet hue began to bleed into a scorched, Dymasian amber.
Nyx stepped between Aurora and the stream, their shadow stretching wide to act as a barrier.
"The Veil is failing here. Isolde, you promised us a way to bind the rift."
"I cannot lie, Shadow-Deceiver. I gave you the blade. I gave you the warning. The binding requires a price the girl hasn't agreed to pay."
Isolde pointed toward the Fae-forged dagger.
"Moonsilver cuts through wards, yes. But to seal a rift of Hel, it must be quenched in the essence of the one who holds the key. The Heartstone is bound to your blood, Aurora Carter. Do you wish to know how to use the knife, or do you wish to keep your pulse ?"
Aurora’s hand went to the hilt. The cold was numbing now, crawling up her arm, frosting the sleeve of her jacket. The bells on the trees began to chime in a frantic, panicked rhythm. The flowers at her feet turned black, rotting into the soil in a matter of seconds.
"Tell me what to do."
Aurora stood her ground, her blue eyes reflecting both the silver of the blade and the encroaching amber of the sky.
Isolde reached into the air and pulled out a handful of shimmering dust, tossing it into the stream. The water began to boil.
"Watch the surface. See the path. The Golden Empress isn't just a restaurant, and your employer isn't just a cook. The ingredients for the seal are hidden in plain sight, beneath the steam of the dumplings and the grease of the wok."
The image in the water shifted. The vineyards of Dymas blurred, replaced by the cramped, humid kitchen of Yu-Fei’s restaurant. Aurora saw the large, soot-stained iron pot that always sat in the corner, the one no one was allowed to touch.
"The iron holds the anchor. But the anchor is tethered to you."
A sudden, violent crack echoed through the grove. One of the oak standing stones split down the middle, revealing a core of molten light. The air pressure dropped sharply , popping Aurora’s ears.
"Go now. The Grove can no longer hide you. The scent of your soul has crossed the threshold."
Isolde began to fade, her form becoming as translucent as the fish in the stream.
"Seek the man who sells secrets in the basement of the bar, Rory. Silas knows the weight of the silver you carry. He knows why your father truly sent you to London."
"Wait! My father had nothing to do with—"
A gust of wind, smelling of ozone and rotting fruit, knocked Aurora back. Nyx grabbed her arm, their grip like a band of cold iron.
"We have to move. The Wardens will be at the boundary in seconds."
The flowers underfoot were gone . In their place, jagged black stone pushed through the dirt. The sky above London began to bleed through the violet canopy, the neon lights of the city flickering like dying stars against the prehistoric dark of the grove.
The Heartstone Pendant burned white-hot against Aurora’s chest, searing the shape of the gem into her skin. She gasped, falling to one knee as the world tilted. The screech of something massive and hungry echoed from the direction of the stream.
"Rory, stand up!"
Nyx pulled her toward the gap in the stones. The transition was a physical blow. One moment, the air was thick with Fae magic and the scent of turning seasons; the next, the smog and damp chill of a London evening slammed into her lungs.
They tumbled onto the damp grass of Richmond Park. Behind them, the standing stones looked like nothing more than ancient, weather-beaten rocks. The hum was gone . The flowers were just dormant winter weeds.
Aurora sat up, clutching her neck. The Heartstone had cooled, but the crescent-shaped scar on her wrist was throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache she hadn't felt since she was a child.
"She said Silas knows."
Aurora looked at the Fae-forged blade. It was no longer glowing, but it remained unnaturally cold.
"The bartender?"
Nyx stood, their silhouette blending back into the mundane shadows of the park’s trees.
"Silas has many titles. Bartender is the only one that doesn't involve a bounty."
They looked back at the stones. A faint, amber shimmer still lingered in the air between the oaks, a bruise on the fabric of the world.
"We need to get to the Golden Empress. If Yu-Fei is hiding an anchor in that kitchen, we’re not the only ones who know it's there."
Aurora stood, wiping the dirt from her jeans. The weight of the blade felt different now—not like a gift, but like a burden . She could still feel the phantom heat of the Dymasian sky on her face.
The city lights seemed harsher now, less like a guide and more like a cage .
"Let's go. I'm through with being the secret ingredient."