Her Dark Nemesis (The Gates of Fortorus #3) - Felicity Brandon

Prologue

Caroline Craness

In another time, in another world, another version of me existed. She was safe, warm, and cozy. I saw her in my mind’s eye, snug and secure, the aroma of burning candles filling the air around her. That was a scent I missed. The perfume of candles melting. I’d lit them all the time when I’d written. Day after day of burning the wick, without ever stopping to appreciate the hue of its glow, the heat it emanated, or the hope its flame represented. What would I give for that small flame now? For one flicker of its warmth and courage?

Now, there was only darkness—the darkness of the new regime, Fortorus and the dreadful things that happened there, and the long shadows which stretched over the land. I had learned to fear them, the same way I’d learned to fear men, but tonight, the shadows offered something more than just terror. They offered protection, somewhere to hide, a blanket to crawl under.

“How?” I shook my head as I reached for Fern’s face and touched it softly. It was almost as though she wasn’t real, a figment of my exhausted imagination, and fleetingly I wondered if it was true as my fingertips passed down her cheek. “How did you get away from the hospital?”

“It wasn’t so hard.” Fern sniffed, shrugging as though slipping out of a maximum-security medical wing at a retention camp was just a run-of-the-mill experience. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it.” Her eyes filled with water as she pulled me close for another hard embrace. There was still nothing of the woman, but she was alive when I’d been so sure she was dead. It was nothing short of a miracle.

“Amazing.” I chuckled between the tears that fell from my own eyes, wrapping my arms beneath the large rucksack she carried and around her tiny back. “You’re amazing.”

“Gently,” she winced, pulling away for the first time. “That still hurts.”

“Of course, your wounds, I forgot.” Mentally, I chastised myself for being so selfish. “How are they? Did the antibiotics they gave you not help?”

Her brow creased. “How did you know about that, and what are you even doing here? The last I knew, you hadn’t come back from Delta when they came to take me to the hospital.”

“It’s a long story,” I replied, ignoring the wave of guilt that washed over me and the niggling paranoia. How was I going to explain the last week to Fern or to any of them? How could I justify the way I’d behaved, the pleasure I’d experienced? How could I— “Caroline?” She licked her lips, wrapping her arms around herself, and for the first time, my gaze fell over her attire. Fern was wearing a pair of dark trousers, which looked ridiculously large for her, plus some sort of linen shirt and an oversized brown jacket. “What happened?”

I glanced up the grassy bank I’d inadvertently fallen down. “We don’t have time now,” I muttered. At any moment, any of my worst-case scenarios could unravel, and tens of sentries could flood this area, searching for us. Somehow, I’d managed to get out of Harper’s unit, make it this far, and bump into my best friend. That wasn’t just luck, it was a fucking marvel, and I wasn’t going to squander the chance. “We need to get away from here. We need to get away from Fortorus land.”

“How?” she asked, exasperated. “I’ve been stumbling around for hours, and I’ve got no idea where I am, let alone how to get out of here.”

My lips curled at her pitiful tone, so like Fern. She’d done so well, getting out of the hospital and getting this far. She was still injured, yet she’d managed this remarkable feat and even had the foresight to bring a flashlight—better than me—yet still, she couldn’t see how incredible she was. She only saw the long, dark night stretched out in front of her, not the impending aurora.

“You’ve nearly made it,” I reassured her, gesturing in the opposite direction of the one I’d stumbled down. “If we keep going that way, we’ll find the boundary fence, and based on what I’ve seen, it’s rarely guarded. They never expected any of us to get this far. They never thought we could!” My voice was an excited whisper, my racing heart testament to the potency of this moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was genuine hope, a real reason to be optimistic. I had little idea of