In the Ravenous Dark

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In the Ravenous Dark Page 37

by A. M. Strickland


  Except … there’s golden sunlight now on the icy peaks in the distant north, with no endless, wintery white billowing off them. Snow has even melted away from the craggy rocks and old ruins in some places. And toward the south, where barren desert once was, I see streaking rain clouds on the horizon, and already the faintest hues of green beginning to dapple the brown stretches of cracked dirt and sand. I can even smell the moisture on a warm breeze.

  “The blight,” I gasp. “It’s fading.”

  “It is,” Lydea says, squeezing my shoulder.

  I lean into her touch, running my cheek over the back of her knuckles. But then I can’t help glancing at Ivrilos in sudden concern. He only gives me a beautifully crooked grin.

  “Yes, dears, the view is amazing, but let’s get the hell out of here,” Japha says, shuddering. “I hate this place. We were just waiting for you to wake up.”

  Feeling overwhelmed, I back away from the window, but I hesitate before going straight for the skull-lined door. “Can we? I thought they might decide to leave the stake in and burn my body for good measure. And now that there are two of us, the Skylleans might decide that’s two too many.”

  “Pshaw!” Japha sweeps a hand as though brushing away the thought. “I took care of that. The queen owed me a favor. Remember, she promised me whatever I wanted if I brought my father to Skyllea’s side. I died for that damned promise, so she’d better keep it. With Lydea’s help I could appear to her, and I asked her to never kill, imprison, or otherwise subjugate anyone I care about—which includes you two, revenants or not. Also future Queen Delphia, and, as a happy coincidence, the rest of Thanopolis.”

  It seems much has happened since I staked myself; it’s dizzying. “How is Delphia?”

  “Only so blissful she might float away, with Alldan at her side,” Lydea says with a soft smile. And then it flattens. “I’ve never seen him so happy, either. He certainly never looked at me like that.”

  “Nor you, him,” Japha says, barking a laugh. “For now, both my father and Penelope are helping Delphia to rule. They’ve refused to allow any advisers from Skyllea—other than Alldan, of course—to join them in that task, but that doesn’t keep the Skyllean queen from asking.”

  It’s really not a bad arrangement. Delphia is truly sweet and kind and the least likely to want to rule, which is why she’s perfect for it. Tumarq and Penelope are more than capable advisers. Even Alldan, clever and noble, won’t be terrible at her side as her consort, even if he can be a self-righteous, pompous ass.

  “As long as the queen doesn’t make threats to get what she wants,” I say.

  “If she does…” Lydea makes a fist.

  “She won’t,” Japha says.

  “You’re brilliant,” I say, grinning at them. I still can’t believe they’re here, even after dying. That I’m awake. That I have everything I could ever need, despite what I’ve lost. My grin falters a bit. “How are Crisea … and Bethea?”

  “Crisea and Bethea have officially left the necropolis, along with a lot of other acolytes. Only the old die-hard priests remain. Or should I say die-easy?” Japha smirks.

  Ivrilos groans, which makes Lydea laugh in delight.

  “Anyway, Bethea and Crisea are together,” Japha continues. “Death magic, as you know too well, is poison for the living. They need to stop using it, get it out of their systems. It’s hard, but Penelope is training with Crisea again, helping her, and Crisea and Bethea are helping each other.”

  “They’re actually rather adorable together,” Lydea says grudgingly.

  I’m glad to hear it, truly. “So that just leaves you two,” I say. “Are you … okay … aside from being dead? Being a revenant is an adjustment, as I also know too well.”

  Lydea shrugs. “I’ll get used to the eyes … and everything else. It’s worth it.” Her lingering look warms my cheeks. You’re worth it, she seems to say.

  “And being a shade…?” I grimace at Japha.

  Their lips quirk. “I get to see my father and you all again. I’d say that’s worth it. I can’t marry Helena, obviously, but I’d rather not. I mean, I didn’t intend to sacrifice myself. I was fighting for the freedom to be me, and in a strange way I got it. Thank the goddess I don’t mind Lydea’s company,” they add, smiling at her. “She’s my anchor. A new ground beneath my feet. I’m happy to be here, even if I’m bound to my dear cousin more than I ever thought I would be.” Lydea gives Japha a worried frown, and they take her hand. “I don’t mind, I promise. I know where I belong. And it’s right here with you and Rovan.”

  I reach for Lydea’s other hand, as well as Ivrilos’s.

  “You’re bound to all of us,” I say. I can’t help smiling again, like a fool.

  Japha eyes Ivrilos. “At least he really is something to look at. And if he’s your family, he’s mine.” They take Ivrilos’s free hand, startling him—and me. I shouldn’t be surprised. Not only is Japha touching Lydea and Ivrilos touching me, but shades can interact with one another without any help. And Japha has always been affectionate.

  We all form a circle. Our strange little family. Only two related by blood, two of us dead, and two of us undead. And yet, despite our deaths, we’ve been reborn, more vibrant than ever before.

  Like Japha said, I don’t mind this new arrangement. Not anymore. Not alongside them.

  “You were there for me,” I say, squeezing their hands. “And I’ll be here for you, forever.”

  “Until the end and after,” Lydea says seriously.

  I just say it outright. “I love you. All of you.”

  “I love you,” they all say back, nearly in unison. Japha and Lydea laugh, and Ivrilos smiles. “Forever,” he adds.

  He’s so beautiful it’s heartbreaking. Except my heart can take it now. It feels unbounded instead of dead. Expansive and free.

  And maybe even strong enough to face what I’ve lost. My father. My mother. The life that I once had. But I’m not quite ready yet. Because now is the time to celebrate what I’ve gained.

  Blinking bloody tears from my eyes, I blurt, “Where to next?”

  “I’ve always wanted to sail on a ship,” Lydea says, and then arches her brow. “Maybe now you’ll come with me?”

  “Of course. And I won’t even ask you to go to Skyllea.” I grin. “Yet. I still want to see it someday, but I’m in no rush.”

  I still can’t let go of that memory of my father, telling me of its beauty, and my desire to see it for his sake. But ever since I caught a glimpse of it through that magical window, I wouldn’t mind seeing it for me.

  We have time, though.

  “We should be able to visit without trouble,” Japha says, and then grumbles, “The queen better keep her promises, or I swear to the goddess I will haunt her.”

  I laugh. I’m just so happy, I could almost split with it.

  “Across the sea, then?” Ivrilos asks, that boyish gleam of excitement in his eyes. It would be something new for him, I realize, in four hundred years of the same scenery. I want to give him all of that and more.

  Speaking of scenery …

  I drag whomever I can reach into a hug. Even Japha and I can touch now, because they’re touching Lydea. I give them an extra-hard squeeze, like I couldn’t earlier, pressing my forehead to theirs before pulling Lydea and Ivrilos into the huddle.

  “Let’s go,” I breathe. “The world is ours.” I withdraw a little sheepishly. “And I’m also hungry.”

  There’s a wicked glint in Lydea’s beautiful red eyes. It promises lifetimes of adventure. “Me too.”

  “What do we even eat, as shades?” Japha asks.

  Ivrilos only laughs. The sound is delightful, even if edged in darkness.

  Just like my family. I hope the world is ready for us.

  “You’ll see,” I say.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Firstly, thanks to my amazing editor, John Morgan, for championing queer stories. Working with you is, as ever, a delight, and this year, it has been a solace
. (Someday, we’ll hang out for a much-needed drink.)

  Thanks also to publisher Erin Stein and the team at Imprint for turning my manuscripts into beautiful books—especially Natalie C. Sousa for the most gorgeous cover ever.

  Much appreciation to my indefatigable early readers: Deanna Birdsall, Chelsea Pitcher, Lukas Strickland, and Terran Williams. Your eyes on my first drafts are invaluable. I <3 you.

  Thanks to Laia Jiménez i Danés and Alyssa Coll for making my non-writing time ridiculously fun, much enriched, and utterly unpredictable. It would have been a sad year without you both. Much love.

  Thanks finally to my agent, Hannah Bowman, for joining me on this wild ride. Here’s to working together on many more stories.

  ALSO BY

  A.M. STRICKLAND

  Beyond the Black Door

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A.M. Strickland was a bibliophile who wanted to be an author before she knew what either of those words meant. She shares a home base in Alaska with her spouse, her pugs, and her piles and piles of books. She loves traveling, dancing, tattoos, and every shade of teal in existence, but especially the darker ones. Her books include Beyond the Black Door and Shadow Run. She uses both she/her and they/them pronouns, and you can find her on Twitter @AdriAnneMS. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Royal Family Tree

  Before

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Ivrilos

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Acknowledgments

  Also by A.M. Strickland

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2021 by AdriAnne Strickland

  Imprint

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  Ready to drag them to Hades

  And bury their souls in books.

  So steal not this tome, dear reader,

  Lest you the book demons offend

  With piracy or sleight of hand,

  And thus cursed by this verse, you end.

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  Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman

  First hardcover edition, 2021

  eBook edition, 2021

  eISBN 978-1-250-77661-7

 

 

 


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