“Cassius, I’m so sorry. I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening to me.” I wiped my mouth, wishing for water.
“It could be a concussion,” he muttered, probing the growing knot at the back of my head. “Let me see your hands.”
With far more tenderness than I deserved, he took them, examining the sides, swollen and split, the nails broken from trying to pry the doorframe free.
“What caused this?”
“I…I thought I’d been locked in.”
I could see in his eyes he didn’t believe me.
“And you couldn’t wait until someone came for help?”
We were much too close to one another. Color stained my cheeks and chest, and I looked down, ashamed to meet his eyes. “I saw my sisters.”
“Camille and Lenore locked you in here?”
I shook my head.
He frowned. “The little ones?”
Another shake.
“Oh.”
The jagged ends of my fingernails dug deep into the palm of my hand. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
He paused for such a long moment, I worried he thought me mad, but he nodded. “I do. We need to do something about your hands.”
“My hands?” I echoed. My hands were the least of my problems.
But Cassius drew me from the solarium and down the hall before I could protest. The sconces were unlit; the corridor was silent. It felt as if we were the only two people awake in the house, in Salann, in the whole of Arcannia.
“Hanna keeps a little box of gauze and ointments in a kit in the laundry room,” I offered, but he walked past the hall without pause. “Where are we going?”
He stopped at the door leading into the garden. Cassius traced his fingers down the wood’s grain, unable to look at me. “You need to know I was going to tell you all of this eventually, Annaleigh, truly I was.”
My guard flared up, gooseflesh scouring my arms. “Tell me what?”
He pushed the door open, letting in a blast of icy wind. “Come with me.”
I dug my feet into the carpet runner. “We can’t go out there like this. We’ll freeze to death in minutes.”
“It won’t take minutes. But I have to be outside.”
“For what?”
He pulled me out after him into the snow. I gasped, my breath squeezed from me as a thousand frozen knives bit in. My feet rebelled, painfully numb with every step I took. The winds sliced through the thin silk of my robe, and my body trembled against his as he dragged me after him.
“Cassius, this is insane!” I protested, shouting to be heard over the gusts.
“I need to be away from the trees. We can’t be under any branches.”
Once in the open, he pressed me flush against the length of his body. I burrowed into his embrace, seeking all the heat he had to offer, propriety be damned. With my head tucked beneath his chin, nestled close to his chest, I couldn’t see what was happening, but it felt as if we were in a sudden waterspout, all wind and icy water droplets. Pressure built in my ears, making my head spin. I sank to my knees, feeling light-headed and sick.
The air was suddenly warm. Balmy, even, and scented with honeysuckle.
I opened my eyes and let out a shriek of disbelief.
We were in an abbey. Somber gray stones soared stories above us, creating a maze of arched colonnades and corridors. The surrounding forest—lush and verdant—crept inside, claiming the pillars as its own. The roof was gone, letting strange pale light filter in. The shadows seemed sharper, as if two sets were imprinted on top of one another. The sky felt just moments before sunrise, even though I knew it to be late at night in Salann.
“What is this place? Where are we?” My voice was no louder than a whisper. The air felt knocked from my chest, and my hands were shaking.
I rubbed my eyes, certain I was still asleep, collapsed near the door of the solarium. This couldn’t be real.
Cassius stepped back from me, looking toward the sky. “This is the House of Seven Moons. We’re in Versia’s abbey.”
Versia. No goddess was more powerful than she. She ruled the night and its skies, bringing darkness across the kingdoms. The stars trailed behind her like jewels on a velvet train. Pontus himself followed after her, a lovesick swain, his waves ever drawn to the beauty of her moon.
“In the Sanctum? That’s not possible. Mortals can’t enter the—”
He quickly shook his head. “No, no, we’re not in the Sanctum. We’re on the island of Lor, in the southeastern corner of Arcannia. This is where the People of the Stars live.”
“Why are— How did we— How did you…” I trailed off, suddenly terrified I was asking the wrong questions. I backed away from him into a stone archway. “What are you?”
His eyes were dark, unreadable. “I’ll answer everything, but first, just trust me….”
Trust him?
I shouldn’t.
But I wanted to.
Cassius moved deeper into the abbey, beckoning me to follow. Directly in front of us, at the end of a long sanctuary, was the altar. There wasn’t a table or shrine to mark it, but the back wall was far too impressive for it to be anything else.
Three wide peaked arches rose from the ground, holding up the wall above them. Seven identical circles formed an empty rose window. Had stained glass once filled them? Now all they framed was a sliver of the moon, perfectly balanced in the top right circle.
Rivulets of water wept down the stone wall like quicksilver, as if beads of moonlit dew flowed out of the very bricks themselves. They trickled into a large crescent-shaped basin behind the altar. It sounded as though we’d been transported into a summer rainstorm.
I stared up at the windows, hypnotized by their perfect symmetry.
“Annaleigh?” Cassius prompted, breaking my gaze. He took out a crystal chalice and dipped it into the silver water. “Hold out your hands.”
The water smelled like fields of wild mint, tickling my nose and making me want to sneeze. As it spilled out onto my swollen knuckles, it left tingling tracks over my skin, sinking in and chilling me, though it wasn’t cold to the touch. Even the thick, humid air couldn’t stop a shiver from racing down my spine.
I flexed my fingers in amazement. The bruises faded as the swelling subsided. Broken, cracked nails were repaired. The pain was suddenly entirely gone.
“Tip forward,” he instructed.
Scooping out another cupful of the silver water, he poured it over the bump at the back of my head. As it sank in, I could feel the last bits of confusion and panic ebb away. He placed the cup back in its carved niche and disappeared behind one of the archways. I rubbed at the fading knot, amazed at how like myself I suddenly felt, as if the water had chased away a phantom presence, leaving just me behind. When he returned with a glass of water, I drank it gratefully.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing to the waterfall wall.
“Have you ever made a wish on the first evening star?”
“Of course.”
“Versia gathers them up, and they rain down here.”
I studied the water, searching for a sign of its magical properties, but all I saw was my reflection staring back at me. “You speak as if you’ve met her.”
“I have,” he said, and pulled me over to a series of benches.
I sank down on the stone seat, toying with the skirt of my nightgown as I tried to make sense of all this. Back before we knew of the door in Pontus’s shrine, Fisher said gods once dealt directly with mortals, stepping in to mediate disputes, help with crops and harvests. Along the way, most retreated further and further into the Sanctum, content to leave mortal affairs to the mortals.
But I knew some gods still used emissaries to carry out tasks for them. Was Cassius one of Versia’s messengers? It would explain his vague responses about h
is life before showing up that morning on Selkirk.
“Do you work for her?” I asked, stumbling over my words. “As a messenger?”
His eyes crinkled into a smile. “No…I’m her son.”
My mouth fell open in astonishment. “Son? But that would make you…”
“Half god.”
I twisted my fingers together. It was hard to understand and almost impossible to believe, but I was sitting here, in his mother’s abbey. I felt the heat of the air and the stones beneath my feet. Her magic healed my hands. This couldn’t be made up.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
He ran his fingers through his dark curls, tugging on the ends. “Do you remember what you told me in the park at Churning? About how so many of the men you meet are after your position and money?” I nodded. “I too want to be liked for who I really am. Not all this.” He raised his hand, gesturing at the moon wall.
“Why are you telling me now?”
“You said you were being haunted. By your sisters.”
My hands balled into fists as I remembered opening my eyes in the bathtub and seeing not Lenore but Rosalie staring down at me. Cassius placed his fingers over mine, covering them with earnest care.
“I know you’re not.”
He squeezed my hands once, effectively crushing any bit of hope I had within me.
“You were right, back in the solarium. I shouldn’t have known your sisters’ names. No one ever speaks of them. But…I’ve met them…and I can promise you—they are not ghosts.”
I stilled. “You what?”
He cleared his throat. “The Sanctum is divided into different regions, each place a separate haven for the god or goddess it houses. To show Mother his devotion, Pontus built her a palace of moonstone in the Brine with him. It’s where I grew up, thoroughly doted upon, a strange half-mortal child. But as I got older, and it became obvious that I didn’t have the same talents as my other half siblings, some of that charm wore off.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck.
“It sounds lonely,” I said, wanting to commiserate but also desperate to hear more about my sisters.
“It was. Mother was gone quite a bit, looking after all this. And there was no one there who was like me. All I had for company was the souls of the departed.” He offered a little smile. “I explored every inch of the Brine, talking to whomever I came across, listening to their stories, and one day I found Ava. She’s so striking, with her black hair and pale skin. She told me about her life before. About her sisters. About you. Later on, when Octavia came, she brought new stories with her. Then Elizabeth.”
I tried to wrap my head around the sheer incredibility of the conversation. “So…when you met me at the wharf, you already knew who I was?”
He nodded. “I hoped so. You look just like Ava. Then you said your name and confirmed it.”
“What else did they tell you about me?”
“Ava said you were about my age, a little younger, maybe. She said you loved to play the piano and run about the estate, pretending to be a sea captain on your boat.”
A blush crept across my cheeks, warm and pink. “I wasn’t more than six then.”
“Elizabeth told me all about the sea turtles.”
“That’s how you knew.”
He had the decency to look chagrined. “Yes…But this is how I know you’re not being haunted. Your sisters are in the Brine, happy and at peace. They’re not trapped here, with unfinished business. Whatever you’ve been seeing, it isn’t ghosts.”
“But tonight it was Rosalie and Ligeia—you don’t know if they’re in the Brine. And Verity, she’s seen them too. She’s made the most terrible pictures. And they look just like them. How do you explain that? She’s too young to remember Ava and Octavia.”
He leaned back against the stone wall. “It could be something else.”
I focused on his choice of word: something.
A line of women entered the abbey, interrupting us. They wore long ice-blue robes, the color of moonlight, with hoods up to conceal their faces. There were an even dozen, holding out lanterns of mercury glass. Charms of silver stars and golden moons hung from their corded belts, tinkling like chimes as they passed. Though most were focused on the altar, one girl at the end, younger than the rest of the group, glanced over at us with curiosity. Recognizing Cassius, she immediately dipped her head in reverence.
“Versia’s postulants. The Sisters of the Night. They live at the abbey, tending to the wishing wall and paying homage to my mother. They’re about to begin their first service of the day. Come with me.” Cassius drew me away from their ceremony.
“Why seven?” I asked, gazing back to the moon windows as we paused on the steps leading out into a courtyard.
“What do you mean?”
“House of Seven Moons. Seven windows. I assume each one holds a different phase of the moon?” He nodded. “But there are eight phases.”
“There’s no window for the full moon. See how they are arranged? Those are the quarter moons,” he said, pointing, “and the gibbous and crescents. And in the middle—that’s the new moon. At the full moon, Versia’s postulants blow out every candle in the abbey to let the light wash over everything from up there.” He gestured to the open roof.
I imagined it at night, with silvery moonlight raining down on the pale gray stones sprinkled with metallic flecks. How they must shimmer.
“What a lovely sight.”
“I’ll take you, if you like. At the two solstices, crowds come to the abbey to celebrate the night. It’s much like Churning, but for Versia and the People of the Stars. There’s a wall deeper in the abbey that holds hundreds of tiny candles. Each person takes one and makes a wish.”
“What happens then?”
“Later that night, everyone gathers here with their wish candles. They light paper lanterns, sending them floating into the sky. They glow and sparkle, drifting higher and higher until they join the heavens. The People of the Stars believe that in the coming months, if they see a shooting star, it’s their wish on its way back to them.”
My mouth curled up, picturing the sky lit with hundreds of tiny flames. “I’d love to see that.”
“The next solstice is only a month away. You must start thinking of a very important wish.”
He led me through a set of arches, showing me the view beyond the abbey. A rocky point stretched into the sea, sharp and jagged. The water below was warm green topped with foamy whitecaps. So different from the dark and deep Kaleic.
“That’s where I release my lantern. It keeps it away from the rest of the group so I don’t lose sight of it. I like keeping an eye on my lantern for as long as I can.” He looked back at me with a shy smile. “If you come with me, you can release yours there too. I wouldn’t mind if our wishes got twisted up in each other.”
Two lanterns twirling together in the dark night to join the stars. It made such a beautiful image in my mind, I wanted to send them up right now. I’d wish for…What would I wish for?
I wanted the killer to be found and for my sisters to stop dying. I wanted Morella to have a safe delivery and healthy twins. I wanted Camille to marry someone and start a family. If I wasn’t second in line anymore, I could figure out what I was meant to do with my life. I studied Cassius’s profile, enjoying the way the strange light played off his cheekbones.
In that moment, more than anything, I wanted him to kiss me again.
“Have any of your wishes ever come back?”
His smile suddenly turned bashful, and the tips of his ears glowed pink. “I met the girl who taught turtles to swim with the waves, didn’t I?”
Cassius brought his hands up, cradling my cheeks, and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. I tilted my chin, and his lips were on mine, soft and achingly sweet. I ran my fingers up hi
s chest, letting them linger on the back of his neck and twist into his dark curls.
“All my years of imagining you,” he murmured, leaving a trail of kisses across my face, “and you are so much more than I ever could have dreamt of…. You smell like sunlight,” he whispered against my mouth.
“Sunlight has a smell?” I asked, gasping as he planted a kiss in the hollow of my throat.
“Oh yes,” he assured me. “All my life has been moonlight and the stars. I can smell the sunlight racing through your veins from across a room. Sunlight and heat and salt. Always the salt.”
I cupped my hands around his cheeks, bringing his mouth to mine and silencing him. I nipped at his lower lip, surprised by my own daring. The kiss intensified then, and I opened my mouth, letting my tongue venture out to find his. He tasted crisp and cool, like the night’s dew across the garden or the first bite of a shiny green apple.
A shot of desire raced through me, burning my limbs like lightning. His hands snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, as when he first brought us here.
Fighting against every impulse sailing through my body, I pulled away, breaking the kiss, thoroughly breathless. “How did we get here?” I asked, desperately trying to rein in my heartbeat. It pounded, singing Cassius’s name through my veins so loudly, I was sure he could hear it. “Did we…did we fly?”
Cassius let out a bark of laughter and turned, showing me his back. “Do you see wings?”
“I don’t know what else to call it. You didn’t even have to use a door.”
His eyebrow quirked. “A door?”
“We use the one in the Grotto. To get to the balls.”
His head tilted. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”
“There’s a door we discovered on Salten. Pontus uses it to travel quickly through our world. We’ve been using it to leave the island.”
A flock of birds burst from the facade above us, a flutter of wings and chirps, breaking the intensity of Cassius’s stare.
“What’s it like, this door?”
I stepped down into the courtyard, feeling as though I’d said something wrong. “It’s at Pontus’s shrine. You twist his trident and the door just…appears.”
House of Salt and Sorrows Page 24