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The Ever After

Amanda Hocking
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. TheEVERAFTER
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  88. 86
  89. Epilogue
  90. GLOSSARY
  91. TheEVERAFTER
  92. By Amanda Hocking

Cover

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The
EVER
AFTER

Omte Origins Book Three

Amanda Hocking

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1

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In the Air

Every night, I dream of an endless sky the color of a summer grapefruit, luminous and bright thanks to the three suns, and every morning, I wake up in a dank prison cell. I opened my eyes, expecting the same dark stone ceiling barely six feet above me, the same way I had for the past . . . alai, how long had it been?

But as I blinked my eyes, adjusting to the bright sunlight, and I saw the rows of people in navy blue seats, confusion and adrenaline surged through me like a nauseating electricity. I wasn’t in a prison cell in . . . wherever I’d been.

I reached over the passenger beside me, an old woman who snorted in irritation as I pushed open the tiny window shade. Below us was nothing but the vast blue ocean.

“We don’t reach land for another three hours,” she said huffily, and I muttered a thanks before closing the shade and leaning back in my seat.

In the back of the seat in front of me, a rumpled plane ticket had been shoved into the pocket, and I pulled it out. The name Emily Miller on top was the name I traveled under, with the fake documents that the Mimirin provided. The flight was going to Minneapolis, Minnesota, which was some relief because at least I was going home.

But how the hell had I gotten here?

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the last thing I remembered. There were flashes of things, foggy images of a prison cell. And a young woman—pale with cobalt and white makeup painted across her eyes in thick lines like war paint—glaring at me with anger darkening her face. And an albino woolly elk, and a haunting choir singing about a morning flower.

Those were all vague and disconnected from each other, more impressions than true memories. I could remember fear but not what I had been afraid of.

The last thing I clearly remembered was . . . kissing Pan. In a hotel room, on the island city of Isarna.

So I kissed him, and I felt his restraint crumble. His hand was on my side, pressing into the soft flesh beneath my shirt, and he pushed me against the window. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him deeply.

And then someone had interrupted. Had it been Dagny? Or was it Noomi?

Noomi. My half-sister.

My stomach rolled. She’d been so angry, but I couldn’t remember why.

Everything until Isarna I could still remember clearly. The four of us—my flatmate Dagny Kasten, her professor Elof Dómari, head researcher Pan Soriano, and myself—had gone to Sweden as ambassadors for the Mimirin—a respected troll library and institution of higher learning. We were on a mission to find the First City, my missing amnesiac friend Eliana, and my father. We had gotten so close.