My breath came in quick gasps as I ran with as much speed as my mortal body would allow. Up and up, around curve after curve. I had to get to the portal and ask for help.

It had grown colder. The chill air set my lungs on fire with every breath. This could not be a good sign for my mortal body. My stomach growled, begging for food, but food would be a long time in coming. Every tree looked the same, every curve a replica of the one before. The only way for me to go was up.

“One step at a time, girl.” My own voice surprised me, as I’d been running alone for so long. I stumbled on a pile of rocks and my right foot seized up. I bit back a howl of pain, but I had to keep running if I wanted to reach the portal and get help.

Hope flared in my heart as I imagined seeing my mother and father again. They would be on the other side of the portal waiting for me, and everything would be all right. They would fix this.

You are a fool, Cali. If there was one thing that I’d learned in my time as a mortal, it was that I’d been nothing more than a pampered princess before. Everything I’d ever wanted, I’d received. If I made a mistake, my father always fixed it. But some things couldn’t be repaired, even by my father. Some things—

A cry escaped my throat as the ground beneath me gave way. I was falling, flailing my arms and legs as I plunged into darkness. With a thud, I landed on my backside on something soft and wet.

Cringing, I rested my hands at my sides, unable to make out anything. I’d fallen into some sort of pit or possibly even a ravine. I missed my night vision. The dark was ever so much scarier when I couldn’t see through it.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds to illuminate the muddy hollow I’d fallen into.

I stood up and searched along the edges of the small space for any outcroppings that might be substantial enough to climb. It was slow going. My boots sank into the mire, and with each step I had to unglue myself from the previous one. After endless minutes of feeling along the middle of the wall I located a series of rocks lodged into the side of the pit. It would provide the perfect foothold.

I launched myself onto the rocks. Dirt embedded itself under my fingernails as I reached for any possible handhold, but there was nothing to grip but wet earth. Soon the rocks on which I stood dislodged from the dirt. I slammed into the wall, mud covering my front as I slid back to the ground.

Panic seized me. That had been my best chance of getting out of here and it hadn’t worked.

“Somebody help me!” The cry escaped me before I could stop it. I had to get myself under control. A battle waged on that I had initiated. If I wasn’t careful, I’d alert them to my whereabouts.

Without anything better to do, I sat down on the driest part of the pit, which wasn’t saying much. Mud oozed through the fabric of my jeans. The big book about Gabriel’s house had contained a paper advertising mud baths for mortals. Why anyone would choose this for relaxation went beyond my reasoning.

A cry echoed above me and I looked to the sky as a large bird began circling the pit. It called out in soft tones, as though it, too, was conscious of the nearby battle.

When it began to lower itself into the pit, my breath caught. This wasn’t any bird, it was an immense crane, close to the size of the vehicle in which we’d traveled to Maine. It seemed to be approaching slowly with intention, as though it didn’t want to frighten me. It wasn’t until it landed in the mud that it cocked its head and regarded me with kind, patient eyes.

I examined my company closely in the confined space. This was not what I’d had in mind when I asked for help. Inching forward, I leaned toward the bird’s face. “Hello, gentle bird. Have you come to free me?”

As if in answer, the bird turned and lowered its back. When I didn’t immediately climb on, it faced me. I would have sworn it was laughing at me.

No matter. My decision was a simple one. I couldn’t get out of the pit without the bird’s help. I needed him. That meant I had to put my fears aside and climb atop this beast.

I clambered awkwardly onto its back. I quickly dug my knees into its sides and wrapped my arms around its neck. As it shot out of the pit and into the air, my lungs expanded, and relief filled me up as though I were a balloon.

Snuggling close to the bird, I let its warmth seep into me. “Can you take me to Kellen St. James?”

“Kellen is on his own journey.” The deep rumbling of the bird’s voice startled me, nearly unseating me in the air. “You and I both know about the second part of the prophecy. We cannot interfere. It has been set into motion.”

Fear settled around my neck like a noose. I shook my head vehemently, though my feathered friend couldn’t see. “Kellen would never—”

“We have yet to see what path Kellen will choose.” The bird’s voice held a note of despair. Yet something was familiar about it. Something I couldn’t place. I searched my memories for a match, but they were such fragile things that I had no hope of one.

“Father?”

The bird’s chuckle calmed me. “You honor me, but no.”

Tears choked me as my frustration mounted. “Is there nothing we can do to save my love?”

The bird expelled a large breath, almost the way a mortal would sigh. “For now, we wait. I will do all I can to protect him. Your job, however, is to open the portal for your family. We all have a job to do. You must do yours.”