by Brindi Quinn
“And what of my cousin?”
Darch removed his hand and scooted away with several hurried steps.
“Hm,” he said after a moment. “He’s weak . . . but he’ll live. If we were still in the mist, it would be a different story, but out here, with the moon’s light, he’ll be able to rejuvenate pretty easily.”
“The moon’s light?” asked Kantú. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Well, Kantú, an interesting, little known fact is that magical beings – purely magical beings – don’t actually need to eat. All they need to sustain themselves are corras, moon energy.”
“Purely magical beings?” asked Grotts. “Whaddaya mean by that?”
“Well, the three original races of old, of course! Elves, angels and drag-”
“Ugh! Enough already!” cut in Ardette. “I think we’ve all heard enough of your know-it-all ramblings.”
“Preposterous!” Rend was angry. “That is the most idiotic theory you have yet delivered! Of course we Elves need to eat! We are a divine people who have, for centuries, gladly taken pride in the Creator-commanded diet of fruit-”
“Nope, nope, nope!” argued Darch. “You don’t! I’m not surprised that you didn’t know, though. Elves have so long been practicing fruitarianism that your people have all but forgotten the beginning of things.”
“Foolishness!”
But where Rend wasn’t intrigued, Grotts was.
“The beginnin’ of things?” he asked. “Is that one of yer peoples’ legends, Darch?”
“As a matter of fact, it is! But I’ll tell you more later. For now, let’s concentrate on getting this spell off of Aura. It’s such a strong one for her not to even be able to open her eyes!”
“Er, right. O’ course yer right! Rend, would ya mind?”
“Ugh.” Rend was clearly far from thrilled with the idea of freeing me. Nevertheless, there was movement above me. I couldn’t see it, but I could sense it. “Fine,” said the sorceress, cross. Then she muttered something under her breath, and slowly I began to regain control.
The first things to move were my lids. Fluttering, they opened.
Kantú was there, leaning over me. “Aura?”
“Umph? H-hey, Kan . . .” I felt weak.
“Aura!” She threw herself onto me, crushing me with an enthusiastic embrace.
“Careful, Kantú!” Darch waddled forward. “How are you feeling, Aura?” He peered at me with wide eyes.
“Very . . . very pretty, Darch. Your blue eyes.” I swallowed and tried to focus on the world.
Beaming, Darch wiggled with excitement. “Did you guys hear that?!” He looked about to burst. “The Pure Heart thinks my eyes are pretty!”
Why had I said something so silly? Sure, it was true, but still. I felt weird and jumbly.
“Fantastic.” A wave of Ardette’s sarcasm hit me from behind. “I see you’re still feeling the ecstasy of your beloved ‘warmth’, my pit.”
I started to push myself up. Grotts rushed forward to help. There was no sign of Scardo and Trib, but the rest were there. Rend’s back was turned, her arms crossed, and she was staring down at something. A body.
“Nyte?”
Shakily, I bent forward onto all fours and started to crawl to him. I faltered nearly immediately, though, and fell onto my trembling arms that were too weak to hold myself up. The ground was slick and cold and black.
In fact, everything was black. And mysterious too – lit by something glowing from above.
Where was I? I was too murky to make sense of anything.
“Here, Aura. Let me help ya!” Grotts, Kantú and Darch all hurried to help me from the ground. Ardette remained out of view. Behind me somewhere. What was he doing?
“To Nyte,” I whispered. “Please.”
“Stay back!” Rend cast a cold look over her shoulder. “You nearly killed him, leech!”
“S-sorry-” I started.
“Now, now, it ain’t Aura’s fault! We’re the ones that forced ‘er ta use him like that! She knew she wouldn’t be able ta stop herself, an’ that’s why she fought us so much! So give ‘er a break, will ya?!”
Rend fell silent.
“Aura, you need to sleep to rejuvenate. Please, don’t exert-”
“Darch!” scolded Kantú, slapping his pinky away in my stead. “At least let her see him!”
“But! Unuhun . . . Oh, fine. But afterwards-”
“Sure. Ya can do yer hokey-pokey after that.”
Grotts pulled me to my feet with one hand beneath my arm. My legs were too shaky to offer any real support, but Grotts and Darch helped me stumble along toward my fallen Elf. Glaring, Rend reluctantly stepped aside and let us pass. Nyte was just beyond her, sleeping. I dropped to my knees and leaned over him.
He was stretched out with his head to the side, a pose that elongated his neck. One of his wrists was upturned beside him, his other curled and resting on his stomach. Lying there like that, defenseless, Nyte was cute – adorable actually – tranquil and lit by the overhead glow. But he looked paler than usual, and it wasn’t only his skin, either. His hair, too, seemed a lighter shade of green.
My Nyte. What have I done?
I rested my head on his chest. His heartbeat was there. It was faint, though. His chest rose, pushing against my cheek before falling back into himself.
“I’m so sorry, Nyte. This time I almost killed you.” I reached for his hand and few drops of repentant water slid down my chin and onto his shirt. His hand was limp in mine, but I held it tightly.
“Okay, Aura. Your soul’s completely exhausted. It’s time to-”
“Wait, Darch. Please wait.” I shook my head.
“Aura . . .” He was torn. “You really should-”
“Hold on. It’s just . . .” I wanted to understand things before I was forced back into dreamless sleep. “Where are we?” I peeled my hazed eyes from Nyte’s sleeping form and stared into the blackness around us.
There wasn’t a trace of the whiteness we’d escaped from. I looked up to the source of the glow and let out a gasp. There, hanging suspended in the black, starless, sky was an enormous, full, pink moon. And it was low. Incredibly low. And it was the only light source within this world of blackness. The ground below us was sleek – resembling that enchanted pond Nyte had taken me to so long ago. It wasn’t wet, though. It was more like a giant, flawlessly smooth piece of obsidian.
“Where is this?”
“The other side of the mist, naturally. And there’s our captive moon.”
I turned to see Ardette sitting with his back to us, leaning on his knee and staring up at the shining sphere.
“It’s stuck over here?” I asked.
“Yes. Can’t you feel it? The reeking stench of an angel’s power?”
My moon. At last, I was able to reunite with my western moon. But it wasn’t as comforting as I’d expected it to be. A secret affair? A hidden romance? Those were the things I’d always felt towards it, but something was different now. Was is, as Ardette had said, angels’ power? Was that to blame for the uneasiness I now felt?
“Why do you hate angels?” I asked Ardette.
“I don’t hate angels. I hate certain angels.”
“Certain angels?”
“Never mind. Well, go on. Say hello, why don’t you? You are, after all, the moon’s daughter, aren’t you?”
The moon’s daughter. Illuma and I both . . .
“Aura,” Darch was whining now. “You know, it’s very important to take care of your soul. With your spirit all weakened like that, you’re more susceptible to-”
“Darch, come on. I’m fine.”
Ardette twisted his neck and sent me a leer. “If you resist, my pit, I’ll gladly restrain you. I’ve been known to enjoy such things anyway.” He drew his finger in an indolent circle around the glossy ground and nibbled his lip. Stupidly, the image of him over me in that nightmare flashed into my mind – only it was my ear that I imagined him nibbling on ins
tead. I fought to block it out, but the picture continued to flicker there like one of those intruding desires of the small something. Small? There was no use denying it anymore. The small something had grown.
“Ugh.” I said, denying the sensation with everything in me. “Fine, Darch. I suppose there’s no use fighting the two of you.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve decided to take care of yourself, Aura!”
Truthfully, though, I wasn’t giving in. It was just an excuse to get away from the small something’s pull, which was, quite frankly, disturbing. I sat there, basked in moon’s light, confused and guilty for Ardette’s effect on me. One dream. One dream had been enough to mess with me this much? I was feeling pathetic – like I’d lost – but then I stole another glance at my peaceful Elf, and those feelings of dangerous temptation instantly melted and were replaced by a deep love for him. Yes, I loved him most. I placed my hand back on his, and at skin’s contact, I knew.
Not only ‘most’. I loved him only. Somehow, that confused dream version of me loved that twisted dream version of Ardette, but the real me, the me that was here and now, loved only Nyte.
“Aura?” Darch was growing impatient again.
“Yeah, I know, but . . . what about Nyte?” I wanted to be there when he awoke.
“Let ‘im soak awhile,” said Grotts. “I think we all deserve a rest. I’ll go get Trib and Scardo, so we can go on ahead an’ make camp here. Suppose it’s as good a place as any.”
“Make camp? But what about Lusafael?! His spell’s in the air, so aren’t you worried he’ll find us?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Ardette, chewing his thumbnail. “He won’t find us because right now, we don’t exist.”
“What?”
“We aren’t alive.”
I snorted. How stupid did he think I was? “Of course we’re alive,” I said.
“Ugh. Darch, would you care to explain?”
“Sure thing, Ardetto! He’s right, Aura. You see, ‘alive’ is a relative term. If you exist, body and soul, in the material world, you’re alive. However, if your soul has crossed to another plane, you aren’t a living thing any longer.”
I still didn’t get it. They were being serious? I looked from Darch to Ardette to Rend to Grotts. No one was laughing . . . But if we weren’t alive, what did that make us? Dead?
“But does that mean the rumors are true?” I whispered, goose-bumps rising on my arms. “That once you cross the Mistlands you can never return?”
“No, no, no!” Darch shook away my worry with a wave of his hand. “That’s a myth! Otherwise, how would Bergra have been able to return?”
Oh. Right. Phew.
“So, if we’re on the ‘other side’ . . . does that mean we’re going to run into dead people?”
“Yup!” Darch clapped and beamed as though the thought of traveling amidst dead souls was the happiest thing he could imagine.
“W-what?!” squealed Kantú, on the opposite side of the spectrum. “W-where are they?!”
“There.” Ardette pointed up boredly.
I followed his point, and for the second time since waking from the warm tunnel, I gasped. Loudly. Because I saw feet. Dozens of translucent, bare feet walking just above our heads. How had I not noticed them before?!
“More dead things?!” cried Kantú. She backed into Grotts. “Always, always, always with the dead things!”
“It’s alrigh’, Kantoo. How things are, they can’t reach us.”
“H-how things are?” she said.
“Yup.” He glanced up. “Now, if ya had, say, a relic or somethin’ from one of ‘em, ya’d be able to call ‘em to ya, but even then, they’d probably just stay up there and look down through the barrier.”
Kantú wasn’t the least bit comforted.
“How do you know that, Grotts?” I asked.
He grinned. “How do ya think?” He tipped his head at Darch, who, in response, gave me a sheepish wave.
Uh-oh.
Now that soul caretaker’s attention was back on me, he started inching. “Au-ra . . .”
“Yeah, Darch. I know. There’s just one more thing I want to ask.”
“Fine. But promise me that after that-”
“Yes, I promise. So, this is probably really stupid, but . . . er . . . the moon’s right there, so why can’t we unlock it or talk to it or whatever right now?”
“You’re right,” said Ardette. “That was stupid.”
“Oh, whatever! Not like you didn’t just ask the same thing right when we got here!” Kantú was assertive long enough to get that out before reverting to feeble and afraid.
Rend was amused, and she showed it with a sneering smirk.
“Don’t you have an evil spell to cast or something?” muttered Ardette. Then to me, “Apparently, mommy moon is on a different plane or something. We can get to it only through the realm of the angels. Joy. I know I’m ecstatic, really, to be in the presence of those morons.”
Morons? Could someone really think of angels as moronic? Ardette’s face was again turned away. I couldn’t read it.
“Aaaauuuurrrraaaaaa.” Darch was antsy.
I sighed and nodded at the concerned Magir. “Yeah, yeah, I promised, didn’t I? Can I stay by Nyte, though?”
Rend opened her mouth – most likely to make some comment about my leeching – but Grotts cut in.
“Course ya can,” he said.
Thank you, Grotts.
I laid my head back down on Nyte’s chest and closed my eyes.
~
“So we’ve got to leave it behind? But is that really wise?” asked Scardo.
Rend rolled her eyes. “Pray tell, what other choice have we?”
“My, my, Scardo, do you really think it’s in danger of being stolen?” Ardette drew a nail against the buggy’s side. “Yes, I suppose it’s a valid fear. What, with all of the shifty people about.”
“It’s no use!” said Trib. “The wind buggy can’t run because the air here is stagnant!” She threw up her hands in surrender.
Trib was right. The air was stagnant. I hadn’t really noticed it the previous day, but there was no wind; no chill; no warmth. The space was just that: space.
“On foot then?” said Ardette. “Ugh. What a bother it will be to lug him around.”
He was referring, oh so disdainfully, to Nyte. The Elf hadn’t been awake when I’d escaped from Darch’s spell, and even now, he was still sleeping.
“How much longer do you think it’ll be?” I asked Darch.
“Hard to say. He’s regained a lot of corras, but all of our bodies are different now. Beyond the mist, there’s no time. There’s no life. There’s no existence. So everything is different.”
No life? No existence? It all still seemed so theoretical. Of course we existed. We were there, weren’t we? I wouldn’t argue it, though. What was the point?
“Alrigh’. Let’s git on with it, then.” Grotts started to lift a pack.
“Oh, you can leave the food,” said Ardette.
“What?” I asked. “Why?”
“A theory of mine. You don’t exist, correct? So you shouldn’t need to eat.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Preposterous!” agreed Scardo, continuing to throw dehydrated fish into his pack.
“Nope! He’s right! Uncle Bergra told me all about it! Until we return to the real world, we won’t need to eat. You guys will experience first hand what it’s like to be Mr. Ard-”
“Trib, dear. Be a darling and help me with this, won’t you?”
One of the buggy’s pulls suspiciously near to Ardette had just become undone and was now hanging loosely.
“Huh. Okey-dokey, sir!”
With that, the two of them continued to secure the buggy – though there wasn’t much point in it – while the rest of us packed.
A short time later, we set out, beneath the moon and through the stagnant, airless space. Grotts hoisted Nyte while Rend carried his treasured
hammer. Together, we all continued on like that. We didn’t have a clear path. We just walked, using the captive moon as our guide, always keeping it to the right of us.
Our plan had been to use the feather man’s guidance upon reaching the other side, but the bird hadn’t shown up since Kantú’s journey to find Trib. Had it lost track of us? Something told me that wasn’t the case. It was probably taunting us from afar or something. Trib offered little assistance, either. She knew certain things from her uncle, but he’d left her with no map or description of what sat beyond the staleness. We had no way of knowing where the entrance to the angels’ realm was or what it looked like. Still, we had to move on. With nothing else to do, we ventured forth through the blackness, hoping to get lucky or that the Spirit of In-between would somehow show up.
The good thing about ‘not existing’ was that in addition to not feeling hunger, we didn’t grow tired. Sure, my mind was bored and sick of the blackness after only a few hours, but my body didn’t tire even though days passed. We’d packed our tents, but that, too, had been unnecessary. Was this how the Elves felt? Able to travel for days on end without rest, their only real fatigue felt when using up corras on magic? I wasn’t complaining, but the whole thing was weird. I didn’t feel myself. I didn’t really feel like anyone. I was a drifter.
Eventually Nyte awoke, but he wasn’t himself for several days afterwards. At first, he was barely able to stand, and after he could stand, he didn’t have the strength to utter more than a word at a time. Once he was again speaking in full sentences, he still needed Scardo’s assistance to walk. I watched him struggle, feeling more guilt than I ever had before. I’d done that to him. And even in this space without time where we were all like perfect beings, and under the full power of the western moon, Nyte was taking that long to regain his strength. How much I’d sucked. How close he’d been to death this time. I felt a wretch.
When at last he was able to walk on his own and speak and even laugh, he held my hand and told me it was fine. That it wasn’t my fault. That it had been necessary and that he’d liked it. That was the problem, though. I’d liked it too. I’d liked it so much, in fact, that I was ever aware of the pendant around Rend’s neck. I thought about it, daydreamed about what would happen if it were around Nyte’s neck instead, so much so that I feared what would happen if we ever made camp. I was afraid of what I might do, if given the chance.