Invincible
Authors: Dawn Metcalf
Love must be stronger than fear, stronger than fate. Invincible. The future of two worlds depends on it.
Joy Malone has learned to live between two realities, surviving mortal threats and agonizing betrayals. And she's found true love. But the world of the Twixt is in chaos, and the Council wants someone to blame... Facing a danger greater than any she's ever known, Joy must find the strength to rely on herself as her allies fall away, because Joy is no longer sure just whoâor
what
âshe is. She knows only that her deepest secret is also her greatest vulnerability and the key to saving them all.
As she fights to protect her friends and family and to unite two disparate worlds, Joy has to trust that some bonds are stronger than magic.
PRAISE FOR DAWN METCALF
“This exhilarating story of Ink and Joy has marked my heart forever. Dawn Metcalf, I am indelibly bound to you. More!”
â
New York Times
bestselling author Nancy Holder on
Indelible
“[Metcalf's] rich physical descriptions create a complex fey world that coexists uneasily with the industrialized human one. An...engaging story of first love, family drama and supernatural violence.”
â
Kirkus Reviews
on
Indelible
“Dangerous, bizarre, and romantic,
Indelible
makes for a delicious paranormal read, and I for one can't wait to see more of the Twixt.”
â
Bookyurt
on
Indelible
“Fans of fae fantasy, YA paranormal and modern fantasy will adore this novel and find themselves willingly trapped within the Twixt. Read. This. Book!”
âSerena Chase,
USA TODAY
's
Happy Ever After
blog, on
Indelible
“Romance fans will melt for this new tale of the Twixt.”
â
Booklist Online
on
Invisible
“So different, so imaginative, a little bit creepy, but absolutely wonderful.”
â
Reading YA Rocks
blog on
Invisible
Books by Dawn Metcalf
available from Harlequin TEEN
The Twixt series
(in reading order)
INDELIBLE
INVISIBLE
INSIDIOUS
INVINCIBLE
To Barry, for all the words.
To Holly, for all the dreams.
To HollyBarry, for all the love.
Always.
Contents
ONE
JOY MALONE STOOD
inside
the Bailiwick and stared out the newly opened door between worlds. Her bare feet
tingled on the illusion of grass, and Indelible Ink's hand hung loosely in hers.
Her boyfriend's black, fathomless eyes were wondrous-wide as they absorbed the
unbelievable sight.
Yellow banners snapped over bivouac camps spread over miles of
green, grassy hills. Soldiers gathered around a large central courtâelves and
sprites, demons and gargoyles, gryphons and centaurs and fairies garbed for
battle, all staring back at them, dumbstruck with awe. In the middle of the
courtyard, nine princesses were laughing and sobbing hysterically, reunited
after centuries apart. And beyond them, two crowned figures stood before their
thrones, their long hair lifting like angel's wings in the wind; the Royal
Majesties, the King and Queen of the Folk.
The King turned to his Queen, his words, crisp and clean,
crossing the miles, slicing through sound.
“It is as you foretold,” he said. “Behold the Destroyer of
Worlds.”
Joy swallowed. Her heart might have skipped a beat, but as Joy
was only half human, her heart was still.
Ink turned to her, his voice uncertain. “Joy?”
She shook her head, not daring to look away. “I don't know,”
she whispered. She had no idea what they were talking about, but their words
chilled her. She shivered. Her leotard stuck awkwardly to her skin. As a former
gymnast, Joy was used to wearing next to nothing in public, but right now she
wished she'd kept on the elaborate ball gown. The layers of silk and crinoline
might have been some small protection from the otherworldly glares, but she'd
shed it while making her escape from Under the Hill. The costume was likely
trampled by angry Folk searching for her back at the gala, including the
rampaging dragon, the Head of the Council, BùxiŠde
ZhÄnzhÅ«. She could almost hear the distant howling as the mob
swarmed the Grand Hall.
But that was back in the real world, her worldâa strange mix of
the human world and the Twixtânot this pocket dimension, the “Bailiwick,” hidden
inside Graus Claude, which held the secret doorway to the lost King and Queen of
the Folk.
The world beyond the doorway sparkled, muted like honey, motes
of pollen flashing with lazy golds and greens. Purple clouds hung above jeweled
fruit trees and tall waterfalls tumbled over sharp, blue-veined cliffs. There
were castles in the distance with rainbow lakes and silver springs bubbling
under bridges that looked spun from diamond glass. It looked like every fairy
tale, every fantasy made real. This was the world of magic where the Folk had
gone to hide.
Joy swallowed, forcing herself to relax, and lifted her chest
and chin.
“Your Majesties.” Joy raised her voice. “Your people await your
Imminent Return!”
She thought that would do it, she really did. All heads turned
to look at the Queen, whose face was as beautiful and terrible as the alien sky.
Her skin was the color of morning glories and her eyes were as bright as
stars.
The wind picked up, blowing her long hair back from her face.
Her crown winked gold in a sea of amber curls. The lost Folk gathered nearer to
their monarchs with a low, buzzing mumble, the curious murmur of bees.
“You are not our people,” the Queen said slowly. “Come forward
if you come in peace.”
Ink tugged her hand gently. Joy hesitated. It was trueâas a
homunculus and a halfling, neither Ink nor Joy was truly one of the Folk, but,
however unlikely, they were the ambassadors of the Twixt. Joy could hear Graus
Claude's advice whispering in her head,
Etiquette and
decorum.
The rampaging mob Under the Hill weren't half as frightening as
the King and Queen of the Folk. Theirs was power, old and absolute, serene and
inviolate. They had literally spoken a world into being, gathering all the
nonhuman creatures together to safeguard the last vestiges of magic on Earth in
a place they called the Twixt, bound by the rules that all Folk must obey. These
were the two who had done everything in their power to protect their people and
their magic from human harm.
It was like looking into infinite space and having it stare
back.
Joy leaned forward, but her feet refused to move. The
soap-bubble barrier that stretched over the length of the doorway bowed and
wobbled, rainbow reflections dancing on its surface. This was different from
walking into the Bailiwick, to the safe room down the stairs under Graus
Claude's tongueâthis was an actual door to another world, and to step through it
was to leave everything she knew behind.
The King raised his arm. He was the color of earth and wore a
cape of velvet leaves; his voice was warm and rich with hope.
“Come,” he beckoned. “Tell us of our people.”
Joy squared her shoulders and held her breath as the ward bowed
gently to allow her passage. The barrier peeled away with a popping sound,
jellyfish-slow. She felt the sudden warmth of the sun on her cheek and the cool,
dewy ground under her toes. The air was heavy and humid and sweet on her lips,
tasting of lavender and moss and cinnamon.
Joy drank a deep breath. She was in another world.
Ink stood in the doorway, still holding Joy's hand. She smiled
back at him, radiant.
The ground cracked open.
Jagged fissures of superheated rock ripped through the grass,
bleeding hot lava and billows of steam. A blast hit her full in the face. Joy
reeled back. The air became dark and acrid and choked with ash. Liquid stone
churned. Grass blackened. Smoke boiled. Joy stumbled forward, each step cracking
and shattering beneath her like glass.
There was an inhaled gasp, then silence, then
noise.
Volume blurred it into a visceral soundâthe collective outraged
battle cry and the collective thunder of weapons and claws charging full speed
down the hill. Joy stepped back, tearing another wound in the earth. A gout of
wet fire spewed behind her, orange-hot spatters smoking in the grass. The
hillside tilted on a sea of molten rock. Joy pitched forward, using Ink's hand
for balance. Winged things crested over the front line, talons bared.
Joy shouted, “Ink!”
His hand fastened over her wrist, his face a mask of
terror.
“Joy!”
The ground crumbled underneath her. She jumped, grabbing his
biceps, suspended over a glowing chasm. Heat baked her heels. Joy screamed,
“Don't let go!”
“I'll not let go,” he assured her.
“Don't let go!”
“Never.”
He twisted sharply, pulling her up with impossible strength,
her body arcing through the air with a familiar feeling of weightlessness before
piercing the fine membrane of the doorway and crashing against Ink. His arms
wrapped around to catch her as they landed in the Bailiwick's hazy meadow with a
punch of breath. They both turned to look back at the army hurtling toward the
open door.
Joy opened her mouth to shout and nearly gagged on the taste of
limes as Ink snapped open his straight razor and slashed a door through space,
whirling them through the flap of nothing hanging in midair.
They reappeared on the edge of the Bailiwick, at the base of
the stairway to their own world.
Ink urged her upward. “Go!”
They ran up the stairs in a blur of slapping feet, heavy boots
and heavy breathing, racing toward the muted light. Ink flipped his straight
razor as Joy cleared the top stair, the back teeth, and the line of red fire as
she sprinted out of the Bailiwickâthe magical entryway's wards flaring blue as
Ink ran close behind her.
They landed on the floor of the Atrium in the Forest wing of
the Council Hall.
Joy spun around, gasping. “I formally withdraw from the
Bailiwick!”
Graus Claude's jaw closed with agonizing slowness. She pictured
the army of lost Folk pushing their way through the door and up his throat. Joy
prayed for a speedy transformation as the Bailiwick's skin lost its stony
pallor, his mouth shrank to merely wide and his eyes changed from cataract-white
to their normal icy blue. Reanimated, Graus Claude slumped forward, tired, weak,
but looking more like the hunchbacked, four-armed frog she knew. She grabbed one
of his elbows.
“Up!” she commanded.
He stumbled to his feet. “Where is the princess?” he murmured,
blinking around the greenhouse room. “Where are the King and Queen?”
“Don't talk!” she snapped in panic. “Keep your mouth shut!”
Shocked, he did. She could hear the sharp click of his
teeth.
Joy glanced up at the skylights above the treetops, the
Atrium's ceiling filled with colorful butterflies and exotic birds spooked by
their arrival. There was one way out, into the long hallway flanked by open
stairwells, obvious to everyone searching on several floors. She glanced at the
shadows between the trees, wondering if Briarhook still lingered there. Her skin
crawled. Joy had bribed the giant hedgehog to help rescue the Bailiwick, but the
deal hadn't included anything about him not turning them all in afterward.
Knowing how much Briarhook hated her, Joy wouldn't be surprised if he'd betrayed
them to the Council in order to gain the last piece of his heart.
Joy ground her teeth.
Focus!
She
grabbed her scalpel and purse from the floor. Shattering the Amanya spell had
let the Folk access their lost memories of their forgotten King and Queen, but
now there was an angry mob of Twixt socialites and a deposed Council likely
looking for answers or, even more likely, Joy's head on a stick. Invisible Inq
was out of action, Joy's brother, Stef, was with his satyr boyfriend, Dmitri,
and she'd have to trust that Filly and Avery and Ysabel and Kurt would get
themselves out.
Right now, the three of them had to escape.
“Ink?” She reached for him.
He flinched away. She dropped her hand. Joy tried to
empathizeâhe'd just found his mother, the princess, lost his sister, Inq, freed
his monarchs, the King and Queen, and was currently running from a vengeful army
who had been trapped for more than a millennium in another dimension. It was
enough to spin anyone's head, but they didn't have time for an existential
crisis right now.
“Listen, getting to the Atrium was the fallback plan to get
Graus Claude out in case anything went wrong,” she said. “And ever since we
found out that Aniseed made a graftling clone of herself,
everything's
gone wrong!” She dropped her voice, wondering if saying
the dryad's name aloud might somehow alert the Forest Folk. “How do we get
out?”
“Miss Malâ”
“Not you!” Joy shushed the Bailiwick, who glared at her from
beneath his deep postorbital ridge. “How far are we from the East entrance?
That's where the car's parked. How far outside the Hill do you need to be before
you can slice a door home?” She squeezed her clutch purse full of keys.
Indelible Ink looked unfocused, lost. Joy's feet still burned. “Ink?”
He turned to her, blank, all-black eyes drowning.
“IâI'mâ” he stammered. He was in shock.
A manicured claw tapped the flagstone path and Joy looked down.
Graus Claude had drawn a large
E
in the dirt and
pointed over his shoulder. Joy ran to the thick glass windows that warped the
light outside. She couldn't see a thing. They could be four feet from the ground
or four hundredâit was impossible to tell. Flowering trees and vine-wrapped
branches nearly obscured the skylights on this side of the room. Her panicked
reflection stared back at her.
There was a rustling in the Atrium. It shivered the hairs on
the back of Joy's neck.
The door opened. Everyone spun around.
Filly poked her head in, her ornamental horse mask from the
gala still perched on her head like a hat.
“Ah,” she said, grinning. “Everyone together now? Good! I'll
just hold them off, then.”
“Wait!” Joy cried. “How do we get out?”
The Valkyrie shrugged and licked the blue spot under her bottom
lip. “Haven't a clue,” she said. “This is Forest floor and I only know Air.” She
flicked the mask's trailing horsehair mane over her shoulder. “The plan's gone
sideways, in case you haven't noticed. I lost Kurt in the hubbub, but that'll
serve as cover for your retreat. There's many keen to speak with you, Joy
Malone, and double that for our noble toad, so you'd both best be off.”
Joy cringed. “But what about you?”
“I don't mind stayingâyou're missing a beautiful row!” Filly
beamed as tumultuous noise gathered behind her, approaching fast. “Must go. Call
me when you need me.” She raised a fist. “Victory!”
“Victory...” Joy answered, but the door had already shut. Both
Ink and Graus Claude stared at her. Joy glowered back. “Okay, I'm thinking!”
