Alyson Noel - Horizon

You must adapt to the darkness so the light can find you.

Such an uncanny match for the Seeker’s creed that Paloma shared with me when I first started training: A Seeker must learn to see in the dark, relying on what she knows in her heart.

I suck in a lungful of air, tracking the beast as Chay’s last words play in my head: Love is a powerful force. If anyone can save him, it’s you. So go. Go do what you were born to do.

I was born to protect—to keep the Richters contained—and the three worlds in balance.

I don’t have to look far to see how I’ve failed on every count.

My friends are all missing or dead.

The worlds are in chaos.

And though the Richters are finally defeated, the beast has now taken their place.

There is only one force more powerful than evil—love , Dace claimed.

Listen to your heart , Chay said. It will never lead you astray .

What I know in my heart is that the choice is no longer mine to make.

Destiny has made the choice for me.

If I have any hope of surviving, any hope of sparing my friends, Dace’s heart is where I must aim.

I squint through my tears, guided by the hum of his breath to locate my mark, grappling with the horror of piercing the very flesh I once cherished.

He lumbers closer.

I steady the gun to my lips. Whispering one final plea: Dace—please, if you’re in there, stop now—don’t make me do this!

He snarls. Growls. Continues his approach. Taking a swipe at me as he did with Leandro, and only narrowly missing.

One more step and he’s on me.

One more step and I’m history.

I close my eyes. Rely on my instincts to guide me.

My cheeks wet with tears as I release my last dart. Its softly whistled hiss closing the distance between us, before slamming hard against the small golden key that hangs from his neck and ricocheting right back where it lands in a muffled thud at my feet.

I missed.

The three worlds are now his.

I’m so sorry .

It’s the last thing I think before the beast comes barreling toward me.

THE BEAST

An old woman calls out from behind me. Her voice echoing from across the divide. She’s mistaken me for someone else. Insists on calling me by a name I don’t recognize.

She’s a nuisance.

Can’t leave well enough alone and be glad she was spared.

Still not sure why I didn’t kill her when I had the chance. Something inside just wouldn’t allow it.

It’s a mistake I won’t make again.

I shift my attention to the girl standing before me. A vision of emerald-green eyes, shining dark hair, and a tattered silk gown, she clings to a slim wisp of hope that died long ago, the darkness has rendered her blind.

Unlike me. I got the night on my side.

I close the few steps between us, inhaling the wondrous perfume of her flesh, wondering how anything could smell so enticingly sweet, as she whispers a prayer to a boy she once loved, then levels her weapon at me.

Her aim is true, but her heart is reluctant, filled with regret.

A battle between the emotion and intellect, duty and longing. It’s no wonder she misses and the dart strikes the inexplicable small golden key that hangs from my neck.

Must be some sort of protective amulet left over from the days I was human.

I take it as proof that I’m here for a reason.

I loom over her, searching for the look of betrayal, outrage, and fear I saw on the last one, but find only a resigned acceptance instead. Even when I throw my head back and release a loud and thunderous roar, she continues to gaze at me with love in her heart.

I raise an arm high. Arc it straight toward her. But once again, my hand falters. Leaving me staring mutely into her beautiful face, overcome by something I can’t quite identify, when my body goes numb and I drop to my knees. Swaying helplessly for a handful of seconds, before my legs give out, my heart sputters, and I land hard on my side.

The girl drops beside me, casts a worried gaze at my face. The expression she wears telling me, this is it.

The beast is dying.

But strangely, he’s not dying alone.

The talons shrink.

A hail of black feathers spill to the ground.

As the girl brushes a tender hand to my forehead, and says, “It’s not this breath, but the one that follows that determines whether you live or die. Focus on the next one, Dace, and the one after that. Please, whatever you do, try to keep breathing.”

Dace?

It’s the same name the old woman called me. Must mean something to them.

The girl takes my hand in hers, places that small golden key in my palm, and folds my fingers around it until the truth comes roaring back and it all falls into place.

It’s more than just a talisman—it’s a key to the past. A passport that leads to a future I can no longer have. Unlocking a cache of memories that return in a rush—the girl has a name—an identity—a revered place in my life. The knowledge streaming through me as quick as a flash.

“Turns out, you were right,” she whispers, her eyes wide and glittering. “There’s only one force strong enough to overcome evil—love. Our love.”

She brings her lips to my cheek as I heave a breath so ragged I’m sure it’s my last. No time left to tell her how sorry I am to leave her with so many unrealized dreams. How lucky I was to know her—to love her—for the short time I did.

DAIRE

It’s a half prophecy.

A half victory.

Half dark—half light.

Just like the twins who started it all.

Though the Richters have finally been stopped, with Dace dying before me and the three worlds gone dark, it’s hardly worth celebrating.

I crumple beside him, throw my body over his. Clinging to the promise of the whistle and wheeze in his chest, while cursing the injustice of a destiny that demands more than I’m able to bear.

His pulse fades.

An ominous gurgle seeps from his lips.

The death rattle.

Won’t be long before it ceases for good.

I lift my face to the sky and release a wail of sorrow so deep, the earth rumbles beneath me, a blast of wind buffets my body, as a shower of hail pelts down from above.

Once again, the joke is on me.

I’m powerful enough to manipulate the elements, but woefully helpless when it comes to saving my loved ones.

I settle beside him, trace a finger across the width of his brow, and remove my tears that spill onto his cheek. “You once said that miracles are nothing more than the truest expression of love.” I press my lips to his ear. “If you still believe that, then feel my love now, Dace. And breathe. Please breathe . . .”

“It was Leftfoot who taught him that.” The voice drifts from behind me, and though I can’t see her, I recognize it as Paloma’s.

She’s here!

I can feel her essence all around me.

Seems my earlier prayers weren’t ignored after all.

“It was Jolon who taught it to Leftfoot. Jolon was a wise and gifted healer. It’s said he shared a direct link to the divine. He worked many miracles, but took credit for none—claiming a healer never works alone. All healings are based on the compassionate help of the spirits, he said. And it’s true. It’s why we are here for you now.”

The moment she says it, I can feel the presence of Django, Valentina, Alejandro, and all the rest of them. Countless generations of Santos ancestors gathered around me, prepared to guide me.

Paloma rests a hand on my shoulder. Her touch so reassuring I return to Dace with a heart full of hope. My hands moving over his torso, seeking a wound. Though it’s not long before I determine that the outside is as perfect as ever. It’s the inside that’s failing.