by K T Munson
He remembered how cautious she’d been earlier. He leaned forward and whispered, “Take some of my life force.”
She tried to pull back, but he caught her arm.
“No,” she said, her voice tight.
“That demon only gave you some, and you need everything you can get,” he said, pulling her closer.
Her eyes were full of fear. Ki disregarded her protest as well as the baseless pang of disappointment that he dismissed as an after-effect of the Poppy Tree. He pressed his lips to hers before she could protest, and he felt her mouth open as she put her hands on each side of his face. Elisabeth might deny him, but her instincts would kick in. Soul Collectors couldn’t take life force from the living, but she was half-living and half-Soul Collector. The rules did not apply to her. After a moment he turned his head, breaking the connection.
When he met her gaze, there was revulsion in her eyes, and tears welled. He turned his head away as she stood. He knew he had done the right thing. She needed it, but that didn’t make him any less guilty. She had been unwilling, and it had not been necessary as it had been when she had first stepped through.
“Stay here,” she whispered before turning and fleeing through the barrier.
He watched them go. Standing, he studied the tree, still remembering his mindless need. She was entering a world of trouble. The Nether had its monsters, but the worst of them were the Det Mor Clan. They would be her greatest challenge, and he had no choice but to let her go. Sitting back down with crossed legs, Ki put his elbow on his knee and leaned against his fist, thinking that she had better not get herself killed.
Chapter 37: The Divine Court
“Her hair is so plain,” a high pitched voice said, rousing Nanette from sleep.
“It does feel like silk though,” another voice answered. She opened her eyes slowly when she felt something brush through her hair.
“Oh, she stirs,” a voice said with a giggle.
Two sets of large golden eyes gazed at her, filled with curiosity and wonder.
“Where am I?” Nanette asked.
“Morhaven,” one of the girls popped up and said. “More specifically the Divine Court, home to the Det Morian King.”
“What are the Det Morian?” Nanette asked, sitting up although her ribs protested.
The girls exchanged glances. The peppy one who thought her hair plain had vibrant green hair with flowers braided into it and a poppy-shaped adornment over one ear. Two marks started at the top of her forehead in a single curl and then fell down on each side of her nose before fading toward her pointed ears and ending in a single dot. The other, who had thought her hair silky, had short, spiked red hair. A black mask covered her eyes and went into her hair. The long streaks of lines of black going through her fiery red hair reminded Nanette of dying embers in a fire.
“They are the great clan, the Chaos Clan and the Balance Keepers,” the green haired one said with an aloof air. “Led by King Nauberon.”
“Long be his reign,” the other one said, as though by instinct. “What was he like?”
“Who?” Nanette asked, her mind still a little foggy.
The flower girl glanced over her shoulder before leaning forward and whispering, “The banished prince.”
“Who?” Nanette said, as her memories came back to her.
“The cursed one,” she responded, glancing down at her companion. “The wordless one.”
“My savior,” she whispered. Nanette was suddenly fully awake. “I have to go.”
Her memories came back sharp as an arrow, and she immediately tried to stand. The girls, who only came up to her collarbone, put up their arms and tried to stop her. She pushed them aside and walked toward the door. She had to get back to him. He was hurt.
“Stop, mortal!” the fiery one said, her arms wrapped around Nanette’s waist.
“I have to find him,” she said as she pushed the doors open.
What she saw behind them made her gasp. The room in which she had awoken had been much like her home in Oran. Paper doors, simple but intricate designs. But when she walked through the doors, she was in a place of trees. Glancing up, she saw that the trees were holding up the ceiling.
White petals seemed to be falling to the ground in an internal cycle. She put a hand out, and one of the petals glanced off her hand. One of the girls pulled her arm down and started to turn her. In awe, she let the girls take hold of both her arms and turn her around and back toward the room.
“You are not to leave!” the green haired one said.
Nanette took a few steps toward the room before stopping in her tracks and turning back again. The girls called after her, but she ignored them. Her ankle hurt, and she had to put her arm across her waist as she walked. Petals brushed against her face as she made her way into the tree room.
“Stop!” they called behind her, but their cries only made her move faster.
She went to the end of the hall and pushed open two great double doors. Behind them was another room, this one full of purple trees that looked like fluff. Opalescent flowers twined around the base of the trees in long massive strips and seemed to move in the wind. Nanette gawked around her in wonder as she kept staggering, the girls running to keep up. They couldn’t be much younger than her, yet they were so small. They looked like teenagers yet were the size of pre-pubescent children.
When she pushed into the next room, the doors to the previous room closed behind her and a lumbering tree-like beast moved by. Nanette stumbled out of way in shock as something spilled out and sloshed at the floor by her feet. The creature made a soft trumpeting noise as its steps shook the floor. Moss and small plants spread out across the floor from the spilled liquid.
The foliage stopped just before her feet, and the girls caught up to take hold of her arms. “What is it?” Nanette asked.
“An elemental,” the flower girl said. “We are their caretakers.”
“You?” she asked in astonishment, glancing down before looking back up as the leafy creature made its way down the hall, “You take care of that?”
“They are instinctual,” the same girl answered. “We must keep them safe when they venture into the Dusky Woods beyond the safety of the Divine Court.”
“I see,” Nanette asked, glancing down what seemed like an endless hall. “How big is this place?”
“It holds all of the beauty of the worlds here,” she answered, turning her around. “The Dusky Woods, Morhaven, the Endless Well, the Det River, and the Poppy Fields. It is the home of the king of Morhaven and guardian of the Netherworld.”
“You forgot the ruins of Old Haven,” the girl of fire said.
“I didn’t forget. I don’t like that place,” she answered, sticking her nose in the air. “Not even a caretaker will go there.”
“So many places,” she said as they led her away. “Why is the prince cursed?” she asked.
Again they exchanged glances. Finally, the flower girl answered, “His brother cursed him.”
“Why did his brother curse him?” Nanette asked absentmindedly while she let herself be steered back.
“Fanta! These matters are not to be discussed,” the fire girl snapped before the other could speak.
“We can’t have her face the King without information,” Fanta replied.
“The Fates will decide what becomes of her, not the King,” she insisted, putting her hands on her hips.
They stopped walking as Fanta leaned forward. “You’re so stubborn, Tohru!”
“I don’t want to be reprimanded because you couldn’t hold your tongue!” Tohru snapped, her hair shimmering suddenly and seeming to burn like fire.
“Who are The Fates?” Nanette interrupted, and both girls stopped to look at her.
“The trinity of life, the past, present, and future,” Fanta answered before Tohru could shush her.
“That sounds worrisome,” Nanette said as they passed into the white petal room. She noticed a waterfall at the far end.
“Melody is very wise because of all her knowledge of the past, Serenity is the conduit between the future and the past, and Destiny is so full of hope that she represents our future,” Fanta answered excitedly as Tohru grumbled.
“We should not be telling a planet-dweller this,” Tohru muttered under her breath as she sulked.
As Nanette they entered the original room, her mind was working. How could this woman Destiny be able to see the future? Wouldn’t the future be known then and their destiny always predetermined? The idea did not sit easy with Nanette, and she rubbed her forehead, trying to drive away her headache. This idea of peering into the future didn’t sit well, and it was giving her brain an overload of thoughts.
“Let’s get you ready!” Fanta said, clapping her hands together in excitement. “And then we shall make you look like you belong here.”
Nanette nodded and let herself be washed and changed. Her mind was on her savior. Strange that he should be an exiled prince and she a butterfly princess. Perhaps fate was pre-destined. This set of circumstances only supported the assertion. She tried not to sigh as she wondered if he was safe and, for that matter, if she was safe. It wasn’t until Fanta and Tohru were ushering her out the door that she realized she still didn’t know his name.
Chapter 38: Hystera
Jinq was roused awake by Cav’s squawking. In his hurry to get to his feet, he nearly hit his head on their little makeshift table. It took a moment for the haze of sleep to be blinked from his eyes and for him to be able to see their small tent. Behind him, Hibrius was instantly on alert as well.
Jinq’s eyes fixed on the bird as it went wild against the tent. At first Jinq didn’t know why, but then he saw that the bed was empty. His blood ran cold as he forgot the bird and hurried out into the grass. He didn’t even take a moment to put on his shoes. Hibrius bound beside him.
“Mara, keep him here!” he called. There was a short trumpeting noise followed by some crashing clamors as the elephant attempted to catch the little bird.
He tried not to cringe as he bound across the plains. The grass brushed up against his arms as he ran, his old body protested at every jarring step. When he reached the edge of the wood, he put his hand on Hibrius and felt the burden of gloom lessen. His heart quickened as they entered Himota, approaching the tree of death.
He nearly yelled out when he saw the people gathered around and realized there was a figure in the tree. She still had Cav, he reassured himself. It wasn’t her. He kept his steps careful as he walked toward the crowd, and relief filled him when he saw it was the woman from days earlier who had spoken of the dream. She was ambling along one of the branches like it was a tightrope.
“Please come down,” one woman cried, but her plea was halfhearted. Her pain was real enough, deep and stanched. It was on all of their faces, but as he scanned the crowd he didn’t see the one face he wanted to.
He pushed his way through the crowd yelling, “Who is the man you are flying away from?”
They parted for him in a slow, staggering fashion, and he continued to skim the faces around him. The woman in the tree stopped and glanced down, and the crowd gasped softly. Her head tilted to the side as she put her hand to her throat.
“I cannot see, but he burns,” she said, her voice filled with ecstasy. “He burns!”
Jinq swallowed as she danced across the branch, swaying in sweet delight. He could hear her humming. Suddenly, she stopped and glanced down, her gaze seeming distant. Jinq narrowed his eyes to try to see her better.
She pointed behind her and whispered so softly that Jinq barely hear her. “He’ll be here soon.”
With that, she leaned forward and plummeted to her death. Jinq didn’t turn away as she fell, her face twisted in pleasure. He heard the sickening crunch as her neck snapped. She lay mangled in a pool of her own blood. He’d wanted to save her but knew it would have been only temporary; they always found a way to die. This was an easier death than most had been. He could still remember the charred remains of the family who’d set their home on fire. The villagers had told him they’d heard the family singing as they burned to death. This was the seventh death he had seen since coming, though she had been the first to die alone.
“May the spirits take you,” he whispered, no longer denying the suicides a prayer.
Whatever was happening here was dark and out of these people’s control. He had a feeling that they were being manipulated. The villagers glanced at him, some wandering off like lost souls. He stood, rooted, his eyes watching the broken woman. They didn’t even bother to cover the dead anymore. Someone would come later and move her away so another sorry soul could die without other bodies in the way.
“Kerrigan!” he yelled suddenly, craning his neck.
Worried that she would become like this woman, he felt this desperate need to find her. The crowd was dispersing, yet she was nowhere to be found. He glanced in the direction in which the woman had pointed and then turned back to camp. The men and women of the village watched him closely as he left, their eyes glittered dark in the moonlight.
He felt his sleeping socks scuff on the ground. They would be ruined soon, but Jinq hardly spared them a thought. After he and Hibrius entered the tree line, he continued a few paces before turning left. He followed the edge of the tree line toward where she had pointed. Moving carefully with the silent panther by his side, he considered his options. Jinq’s eyes were alert and piercing, his hand was steady on Hibrius’s back.
It didn’t take long until he heard the soft chanting of many voices in a chorus as one. Curiosity and a drive to know the truth pushed him forward. He came to a small opening between tightly woven bamboo trees. They made a distinct clacking noise when the wind pushed them. They rose up in tight succession without much give. Jinq leaned forward, gazing through a break in the wall.
Men in black robes stood around a slab of stone. They had their arms raised, and their voices were turned to the moon. They did not shout, the power of their voices soft and steady. Jinq listened to them, sure that whatever was happening in Himota was caused by them. He took a step back, and a branch snapped under his weight.
One stopped chanting and turned in his direction. Panicked that they would find him, he considered running or fighting. Hibrius responded first by moving around in front of him and shape-shifting. The area hummed with the power they had raised, but without that other voice, it was falling flat. He heard voices stop one by one.
“What is it?” he heard one ask as leaves rustled.
Eyes glazed out across the darkness and peered at where Jinq had been standing. He was crouched down now, perfectly hidden by a boulder. Hibrius had shapeshifted to hide him perfectly, but if they went too much further, they would round the illusionary boulder.
“Nothing,” he said, and his voice faded as he returned to the protected clearing. “I thought I heard something.”
“Let us raise our voices,” another said, and once more a hum filled the air as they became one voice.
Hibrius waited minutes before changing back to his panther form, and Jinq relied on his good eyesight to lead them away. Every step he took moved him further from their discovery, but he was no fool. Those men had power and lots of it. He could not say what the slab of gray, featureless stone was for. Darker workings were at play, and Jinq needed that Seer. He needed her to see what he could not.
When he reached the tree line, they found Kerrigan pacing in front of the tent. She looked worried until she saw him. When she ran toward him and threw her arms around his chest, he nearly lost hold of Hibrius and tumbled backward. He just managed to keep his footing and keep his fingers touching the panther.
“I was so worried,” she said, her voice shaking. “I awoke from a terrible dream and walked along the plains, and when I came back, you were gone. I thought something had happened to you.”
“I’m fine,” Jinq said to reassure her, patting her on the back.
She untangled herself and quickly stepped back, her f
ace etched in worry. “Someone else die?”
“Yes,” Jinq said, glancing away for a moment, “but she gave us a clue before she did.”
“Like the other woman?” Kerrigan asked, hopeful.
“Much like the other woman, but I cannot understand why,” Jinq responded, deciding not to mention the strange men. “I need the Seer.”
Chapter 39: Morhaven
The poppy fields were alive with trees and fields of red flowers. Elizabeth had seen other colors of poppies in her life besides red such as yellow and orange, but none existed here. The ones here reminded her of blood, as though the forest was bleeding. She didn’t glance back as she walked away from Ki. She had tried to push down the feeling of disgust at her need to consume life force. She frowned, her face pressed low by the memory. She loathed this part of herself, the part that had to feed. She hated what the Nether had forced her to confront, and she didn’t like dwelling on it.
“What should I call you?” Elisabeth asked, wishing to distract herself from these thoughts.
He glanced at her, his worn clothes and bald head doing little to hide that he was from here. His fine features and muscular figure only made her certain he was a Det Morian, but it was the eyes that sealed the deal. Her demonic half had sensed he was a member of the Divine Court, but she’d read about the Det Morians and their brilliant green orbs. Problem was, she had no idea who exactly he was.
“I have many names,” he said quietly, as though considering how best to answer. “All of which would be difficult for you to pronounce and difficult for me to impart in such a way that you would understand.”
“What would you have told Nanette?” Elisabeth asked pointedly, knowing full well there was power in a name here.
Elisabeth saw the barest of smiles at her name before he answered without hesitation. “Ethandirill.”
“I am Elisabeth,” she told him but did not offer her hand as she would with anyone else.