by A. K. Koonce
“I thought you were dead.” Her words come out in a stream of trembling happiness.
I run my palm up her jaw, needing to feel her smooth skin against mine. I want to kiss her, and hold her, and never let her go.
But the pain won’t allow it.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to lean my tired body into hers.
Sweat breaks across my face as I try to wait patiently for her response. Why is she hesitating? Something’s wrong. Something isn’t right here.
“Felicity saved you.” My eyes narrow as she speaks and dread grows within me. Through all the emotions I’m harboring, dread still finds a way to weigh me down. “She said you were dying and she would save you.”
In the hundreds of years that I’ve known the sweet Priestess, she’s never gone out of her way to prevent death. She wouldn’t save me.
Not without a price.
“What?” I take a tense and shaky breath as pain flares in my body and mind, pressing against the back of my eyes and my chest cavity looking for a way out. “What did you give her?”
Her smile falters just slightly but she pushes it right back into place, right on display for myself and our Priestess.
“I’m a Savior, Remy. We’ll be Saviors together. We’ll find Survivors together now. Isn’t that wonderful? I could be away from the Island and with you more, and we could help people. Just like you helped those children.”
Her voice is strange. Like she’s trying to convince herself of all these fantastic things.
My eyes grow wide. I try to listen to her speak, but her words are drowned in my mind. Felicity offered her something else before offering her freedom.
“And you agreed?”
“Of course I did. I want to be with you. I thought that’s what you wanted, for us to be together. I—I love you.” She watches me carefully, waiting for rejection or rejoicing.
My heart pounds through all the emotions in my body, through all the pain and fear and confusion. She loves me.
My life is just a long, endless line of bad—make that terrible – timing.
“I love you, too,” I whisper. I lean my head against hers as I pull her into my arms. Her body fits perfectly against mine, her light filtering through the darkness within me.
I’m a fucking mess. How did I screw this up so badly?
I turn away from her as anxiety presses against my chest. Glowing and complacent lavender eyes shine down on me. Felicity remains silent, as if allowing Alexandra and me privacy. The Priestess raises her head a little higher, pleased with today’s entertainment.
“I delivered. I want what you offered. Myself and Alexandra.”
I glare up at her, ignoring the look Alexandra sends my way. Trying to find my hatred beneath the suffocating pain, I grasp my shoulder, grimacing as agony sears through my heart.
“Actually, you’re late. That offer is null. Alexandra has already signed a different, more exclusive proposition very few people are ever offered.” Her eyes gleam toward Alexandra as if she is her star pupil.
I breathe hard through my nose, my jaw tightening as I try to think through the best way to handle this situation.
“Unfortunately, that’s not possible. We’re fucking leaving Felicity. After I give you your deposit into the Grievance Grave, we are leaving.”
I nod to myself as if it’s a logical argument. I’m not a lawyer or a deity as Felicity pretends to be, but the exclusive Savior proposition Alexandra signed isn’t going to hold up in my mind.
“What are you talking about, Remy?” Alexandra finally asks.
My mouth opens to speak, but Felicity’s voice carries through the room.
“Has he told you about his past?” she asks, her voice enunciating each syllable.
The minimal breath I’m able to filter into my lungs over the intoxicating white smoke turns heavy. My stomach twists nauseously as I think about what she’s implying.
Alexandra turns to me, confusion etching her pretty face. “What is she talking about, Remy?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, guilt unfurling through the pain in my chest.
“I’d hardly call it nothing,” Felicity says with a malevolent laugh. “Did you know he was once the renounced King of England? Quiet an impressive rejection, if you ask me. Especially for an infant. Tell me, how does it feel being an outcast from the very start, Remington? How does it feel to always be rejected, Remington?”
“Shut up,” I say, my eyes focusing entirely on Alexandra’s frown. Her face is all I can see in the dimly lit room. It’s all I focus on and all I care about in this moment.
“I—I don’t understand.”
“Remington Adair was born to the once Queen of England. He was claimed to be the heir to the British throne.” Felicity’s explanation echoes around us as horror seeps into Alexandra’s face.
“I wasn’t—”
“He wasn’t, of course. He was just a bastard. An imposter. A rejection right from the start. His father was some peasant who was deluded by Helen Adair into an affair. She wanted to push you out of the picture entirely, Alexandra.”
Felicity pauses, waiting for some sort of exciting response from Alexandra before continuing. “They both were beheaded for treason the moment Remington was born, his appearance a stark contrast to the recently deceased King of England,” Felicity says in a bored voice, her rapt attention focused on Alexandra’s reaction.
My mother was the source of Alexandra’s painful life. Her stepmother was my mother. The evil queen was my own flesh and blood. I hate how much I’ve compared myself to my mother lately. I almost feel like I’m the reason Alexandra’s life wasn’t perfect.
“My father dies?” Alexandra’s lip trembles. “When?”
My hands shake, wanting to wrap around her, to shield her from anything else that might be said.
“I’m sorry. I—I should have told you.” I’m rambling, but Alexandra doesn’t even look at me. Her chest heaves as she stares at the glittering floor. “I was afraid you’d hate me for what my mother did to you. It feels like it’s my fault you were in the tower at all. I—”
“Leave us,” Felicity orders, her voice booming around the room.
Alexandra’s head snaps up, her shoulders squaring as she meets Felicity’s gaze. Felicity might be a self-proclaimed Priestess, but Alexandra is a real life Princess. Alexandra glares up at the Priestess, her jaw strung tight in anger.
“I want to hear Remy’s offer,” she demands.
“That offer is null. Guards, take her away.”
The two guards push Johnny carelessly aside as they grab Alexandra beneath the arms and begin to drag her from the temple. I move as quickly as possible, shoving them with the little strength I have as Alexandra thrashes in their arms. Her feet kick as she is dragged from the room, removed like an old pawn being thrown off a chess board.
“Wait. Remy!” she screams as the doors are thrown open. “Remy!” Her voice echoes around the room even after the doors bang shut behind her.
Johnny clutches my arm tightly, pulling me back to the center of the room. I glare at him when I stumble, but he only nods calmly, as if everything is going as planned.
“Where were we?” Felicity nods her head in agreement with herself. “I’ll grant you your leave, Remington. Sail away from Resurrection and never look back. But Alexandra stays.”
“No.”
My voice is strong despite the weakness pulling at my tired limbs.
“Just let them go. I’ll find you two new Saviors, my Priestess,” Johnny says gently.
I lean into him and he holds me up, minimally grabbing my arm as if I’m a poor fucking diseased animal he doesn’t really want to touch.
“No!” she yells, her eyes glowing with rage as the room shakes around us. “She will stay. You brought her here, I allowed it, and now I will allow her to stay. Now leave, both of you,” she says, her eyes burning into me.
I shift, trying to right myself without Johnny’s help. I swal
low hard, clearing my pounding mind for what I can say to fix this.
I ruined her life. I knew I would and now I finally have.
In the blink of an eye, Johnny pulls the dagger from my weapons belt. It hums to life in his palm. He soars in a flash of color to the front of the room with determination, anger, and hate etched into his features and his arm held high above the Priestess’ chest.
He plunges the dagger down, but Felicity’s hand snatches his wrist in one quick movement. Her lips twist into an evil, disgusting smile.
“How dare you!” she seethes. “I made you. I loved you. And you would turn on me for … some pathetic little human girl?”
The sound of bones snapping echoes around the room. Through the white smoke, I see Johnny’s features change from anger to fear in an instant. He cries out in pain as she brings him to his knees with only one hand, the dagger clattering to the floor.
As her willowy body towers over the boy, she looks wistfully at his face, taking in all of his features. Her other hand caresses his cheek gently as she looks into his terrified eyes. Her palm drifts down over his jaw, brushing her thumb across his lips before trailing her sharp black nails to his throat. Her nails sink slowly into his skin, his eyes growing wider with every second. His face begins to relax as blood seeps from between her fingertips.
She squeezes the life from his body right before my eyes, snapping the bones in his neck in mere seconds. A long, struggled breath leaves his lips like a sound of relief.
My heart thrashes, fight or flight kicking in. I should run; I should soar right out of this temple and never look back.
But there’s no fucking way I’m leaving Alexandra with this monster.
Felicity wipes her bloody hand on Johnny’s shirt, his lifeless eyes staring up at her. For an instant I’m mesmerized by the start red stain on his once clean shirt. My eyes dart to the discarded dagger on the floor. I’ll never reach it in time.
As she inspects the mess Johnny’s death has made of her polished nails, it occurs to me. I have one weapon I can use. Something she values more than anything else on Resurrection Island. She’s built an empire of pain here.
And now I intend to tear the empire down piece by piece.
Holding my palms out at my sides, I focus all my energy on the unfurling pain within my body. Johnny’s words echo through my mind. The Grievance Grave was created for a reason. Because Felicity almost died consuming too much agony.
I feel it building like a hurricane, twisting and turning, looking for a way out. I push with all my might, forcing it to the edges of my existence.
My body shakes, my fingers trembling as emotion tears through my limbs, settling painfully in my palms. Felicity looks up at me, our eyes meeting, not as a servant and master, but as equals in the hierarchy she created. Her head tilts a fraction of an inch as she tries to understand why I’m still here.
Black smoke drifts from my fingertips, mingling with the wafting white smoke around us. I know when her understanding surfaces; her ever serene face flickers into something I’ve never seen her feel before. Something she probably hasn’t experienced since she crawled out of whatever hell she came from.
Fear.
“Remy, darling, don’t do that,” she says in a calm, motherly voice, her eyes growing wide, her feet stumbling back as I walk with determination toward her.
The walls shake around me as I release more pain into the room. From behind, I hear running, and then the doors banging closed; the guards have abandoned their post. I can’t see two feet in front of me, but I keep walking through the black fog anyway.
I hear her fall, her body skittering away from me, clawing at the floor to get away. The pain is too much for her. It’s too much for me too, and I feel stronger with every ounce I force from my being. I step over Johnny and pick up the dagger near her throne; it glows silver, like my intent is bringing life to the inanimate object. I push more and more pain through my shaking fingers as I walk closer toward her. The pain is dispensed slowly and causes an electric current-like feeling between my fingers.
“Remy, countless wars have been waged for something as meaningless as a woman,” she says, spewing her thoughts quickly, trying to say anything to stop me. “You can have her. Take her wherever you like. Leave Resurrection forever, but don’t wage another war for one woman.”
I stare into her unnatural lavender eyes. She was so beautiful once.
I lean closer to her, standing as close as I ever have in all my life. With abnormal speed, I stab the dagger deep into her thin body, beneath her ribs. A cracking sound fills the room as I shove harder, angling it up toward her heart.
Fumes emit from the hilt of the dagger as black blood pours out of her, covering my hand as the inky smoke continues to drift from my palms. Her slender fingers wrap around the hilt, her hands slipping over mine in an attempt to keep her life from leaving her body. Her mouth opens, her eyes still search mine, like she might say more to change my mind.
“This wasn’t a war, Felicity,” I whisper almost soothingly. “It was an assassination.”
The breath that leaves her body seems endless and death defying. Until it’s not. Her eyes become vacant, the tension leaves her shoulders, and, to my surprise, her skin starts to transform before my eyes. I scramble away from her, my boots kicking against the concrete floor, abandoning the dagger within her corpse. Her skin turns black and scaly, cracking as she becomes what she might have been all along.
A monster.
Long, winding dark gray horns split through her hairline, and her pale hair falls away. Her once porcelain skin fades into a pure ebony color.
The shaking temple begins to fall apart around me; pieces of the ceiling dust my coat and crumble to the floor. Candles crash to the ground as the concrete cracks open beneath my feet. I stumble back from the body of the Priestess … from the monster’s corpse. My feet falter as I run unsteadily from the temple, out into the chaos I’ve released into Resurrection.
I fly through the Island. Trees have fallen and huts are destroyed from the unnatural disaster taking over this paradise. I breathe hard, clenching my eyes closed as I push the remaining pain from my body, flooding it out all at once. The world shakes around me as people scream and run for a safety they’ll never find within this world.
I search the shore frantically and I realize Felicity might have been the only thing keeping this world whole. The ships are sinking in the harbor, no longer containing the magic that once held them together. I can only pray Alexandra and Lucas weren’t on board. People shove past me, doing exactly what I’m doing. Looking for the people they care about. Refusing to give up on the ones they love.
“Remy.”
I hear Lucas call my name in the crowd. I turn, making a circle in the thick sand as my eyes dart around the mass of people. Panic rises in my chest. What the hell have I done?
Alexandra grabs my arm, hugging me to her. Her body calms me as soon as she’s in my arms.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” I whisper against her hair.
“I know. Nothing the queen did to me was your fault,” she says, holding me tightly like I might fall away from this quaking world.
People yell and scream and run around us. Lucas stands behind Alexandra with his hands on his hips like it’s just another day on the job.
“I take it the meeting didn’t go over very well?” he asks without cracking a smile.
“Not at all,” I say, wrapping my arm around Alexandra’s hip as we walk quickly through the crowd. “We need to get to Valhalla.”
“You think you can fix this from there?” he asks, jogging to keep up.
“No. No one can fix Resurrection, Lucas.”
People push past us, the masses eventually thinning the farther we walk down the shore. The diminishing castle comes into view as does the haunting sky.
The once colorful, shifting sky is now a black hole. The sight of it makes my stomach sink. It churns slowly, the waves of the sea below rising up as if
attempting to touch the stark heavens above.
“Shit, that can’t be good, can it?” Lucas says, assessing the twisting current as the wind whips around us, a tornado of weather waiting to be unleashed.
If I could go back … if I could turn the tables of time as I so frequently do, would I still have ended up here? Destroying the only happiness I’ve ever felt? The only happiness any of these people have ever felt? Knowing what I know, would I have saved her all over again?
I would. Because this isn’t life. Resurrection is only a median between living and dying. It isn’t life. Not at all. It’s a false kingdom. It’s subliminal happiness, shielding them from the pain of death, before receiving what they should have had from the start – eternal life.
It isn’t a place for the living.
I don’t belong here. I never did. And neither does Alexandra.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hellish Reality
Remy
Valhalla is in shambles. More so than usual. The staircase has fallen almost completely away, making us jump from step to crumbling step to get to the second floor. The center arch, the one holding the natural world, shines brightly. The scenery of the ever present wheat field is still within the frame, but it’s different. As the sky twists above us, the color from the arch is turning as well, swirling in colors of gold and blue and white.
Felicity’s reign is gone from this world, and the power she held over The Valhalla Ruins has died right along with her.
We could go there, to that place within the frame. I walk across the room ready to leave right this minute as the walls quake around us and pieces of stone clatter to the cracked floor. Alexandra watches the broken arch of darkness as if it might reach out and claim her, as if it might pull her into whatever shadowed world lies beyond. I pull her closer to my side.
Exhilaration fills my lungs as I stare wide-eyed into the earthbound portal. Does it work as the ships do? Could it be as simple as thinking of our destination?
I glance excitedly at Alexandra. Her lips are set in a thin line as if she’s nervous, but will never admit it. She grasps my arm tightly, looking into the twirling world ahead of us. I look back to Lucas, but he’s still standing on the stairs, watching us from across the trembling room. An outsider looking in, distancing himself from us.