by K T Munson
Her breathing settled as she basked in the scent of the room. It was Ethan’s scent. It filled every thread of the sheets below her and intertwined itself with the air. The aroma from her hair mingled with the exotic smell. Turning away from the mended shirt and the two spools of thread, she drew her knees up and curled them toward her chest. Her hands rested by her face as she felt fatigue take hold of her. She had hardly slept the night before they had left, and her anxieties were making her even more tired. So she let herself drift.
The cloud of sleep had filled her mind when she heard the soft patter of footfalls. Her eyes shot open, and she pushed herself up. Ethan froze when he saw her. Apparently he thought she had been asleep. His eyes widened, and he looked about ready to bolt again.
“You!” She pointed at him as he rotated to flee a second time. “Where do you think you are going?” she said, her voice rising an octave.
Ethan gestured helplessly toward the door but said nothing. She narrowed her eyes as he waited for her to say something. They remained like that for a moment, him half out the door where the darkness swirled and her propped up on the bed.
“Where did you go?” she finally asked.
“Away,” he whispered before clearing his throat. “I gathered you some food from the planets.”
“I brought my own,” she said, gesturing toward her pack. It contained clothes, food, and reading material, plus a small kit that contained a pen, ink, and paper for writing letters. That was all she had brought.
“Oh,” he said. His face looked pinched as he gazed almost longingly toward the door.
Nanette carefully rose and fixed her skirts. It was strange to be wearing Ashladian clothing. She missed her robes, which was why she had packed most of them. She focused on her dress a moment as she straightened the front, running her fingertips over the fabric as she gathered her strength and her thoughts.
Her head came up, and he stopped trying to leave. Hovering on the edge of the darkness just beyond the door, he watched her expectantly. She managed a smile and hoped it didn’t look as strained as she felt. Nanette was determined not to cry.
“I understand it is easier for you to avoid me than tell me why you left, but I want to assure you that if you regret your decision, we can return to before you kissed me and simply survive this month. I will not overstep my bounds as your temporary servant.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. A flash of pain came over his face and his jaw tightened.
“I never wanted you here as my servant.” Nanette recoiled as though he had slapped her. He saw her reaction and hastily added, “I am not used to explaining myself.”
Nanette licked her lips as she studied the floor and contemplated the right words. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip a few times before facing him again. His eyes were begging her to understand.
“Explain it to me then,” Nanette said softly.
“A Det Morian mates for life.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth opened. She closed it and blinked a few times. Her mind was trying to process his words.
“I understand it wouldn’t be fair to you,” she said, “since I am not of the Netherworld.”
“Not fair to me?” he asked, coming closer to her. “It isn’t fair to you. I have nothing to offer you. My brother has stripped me of everything, even my voice. All I have is in this room. I cannot ask this of you.”
“I don’t need anything.” Nanette matched his step with one of her own. “I was a princess who had everything except the one thing I desired. Objects are nothing.”
“What was it?” he asked, closing the last of the distance. “What was the thing you desired?”
“Love,” she whispered, tilting her head back.
“You have my heart,” he told her. “I have been drawn to you from the beginning.”
She framed his face with her hands an instant before she kissed him. She could taste his conflicted emotions, but more than anything she could feel his affection for her. Not once during their marriage had Jason shown even half the attempt to love her. Her sad, lonely heart blossomed under Ethan’s embrace.
When she eased back, her chest was rising and falling, fighting against the corset. He took her hand and lifted the lantern. “I have something to show you,” he said, his voice thick with desire.
Despite her reservations about leaving the safety of the room, she trusted Ethan. She barely suppressed a giggle as they jogged along the winding path. When they emerged at the hole, she could see nothing beyond the lantern’s light. Despite her fear of the endless blackness, when he told her to wrap her arms around his neck she did as he asked. Though the darkness tried to close in on them, the lantern hooked on his belt kept it at bay.
He stepped out and began to climb the mountain’s face. She held on and tried to look around her but could see nothing. She could only imagine the edge of Morhaven that lay beyond and the valley that lay between. The darkness terrified her, so she buried her face against Ethan’s neck.
When they reached the top, she saw a rope hanging from the other side. “Take it,” he told her.
She grasped the rough cord as Ethan effortlessly heaved himself over the side. When his legs disappeared from view, she tried to follow, but she’d only managed a single rung when she saw two hands reach out to her. Ethan hauled her up. When he set her down, he put a hand around her waist and smoldered her with his gaze.
As Nanette was about to kiss him light exploded around them. She blinked, gasping as hundreds of individual flecks of light floated in the sky around them like lightening bugs. They were every color—pale blue, yellow, pink, and purple. An orange one floated by, and she peered closer.
“Fairies,” she whispered.
“Nasty little creatures,” he told her, “but beautiful. This is Verten.” He gestured to a strange collection of stones. The fairies were like glowing butterflies that gathered around the smooth stone.
“How are they able to stay here?” she asked. Only this place was illuminated; it was as though night could not penetrate it.
“When they gather together here at Verten, they are able to ward away the darkness.”
Silence fell between them, and Nanette watched the dancing lights. Finally, she broke the stillness. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of regret. “I should have explained myself.”
“Yes, you should have,” she said pointedly and smiled at his shocked expression. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes and we’ll figure it out.”
She tipped her head back, and he kissed her softly. The darkness no longer terrified her, not among the light of the fairies. In his arms nothing would come for her or try to hurt her. She was safe there, and she trusted he would keep her that way.
Chapter 19: Lyreane
Selene stared at the ceiling of her room. Sighing heavily, she sat up, no longer trying to feign sleep, and her blond hair fell in front of her face. She pushed it back out of the way before strolling over to the one window in her room. The drapes were pulled to each side and the shutters were wide open. Even on the coldest nights she refused to close it—the only way out.
Sometimes she would sit on the windowsill and contemplate leaping. Even now she considered ending her life. Instead, she settled down on the window ledge and gazed out across Vilden, the largest city on the great continent Hibarr. She could just see some of the other towers of Valhaul that jutted out around her. They seemed to her sad little towers that were reaching toward the sky, gasping for hope. But hope could not be found here.
Hope had died three years earlier when she had turned sixteen and been deemed old enough by the King’s council. Old enough for the fat old king to sully her in the name of a bountiful harvest. Old enough to bear a child that would never breathe in Lyreani air and been burned without ceremony or the king in attendance. She’d learned that day that stillborn children didn’t matter as much as living ones.
Selene wished Soul Collectors came for rapist and murders like they d
id for baby killers. Sometimes Selene imagined them tearing him to small pieces before consuming his soul. She tilted her head to the side as she watched the sun rise and imagined what his screams would sound like. It gave her some comfort knowing that his soul would be judged for all his crimes—from his abuse of her to his keeping her family away. Being reunited with them one day was all that kept her going.
When she closed her eyes she could still see her mother’s face as she cried and screamed for justice. Sometimes she would look to the market and wonder if her mother was there with her father as they sold vegetables from their farm. She hoped they still missed her. She was their only child, and they had hidden her well for ten years. Her mother used to comfort her with stories of her Aunt Serena, whose name had inspired her own, and say she lived twenty-nine years without anyone coming for her.
Despite the nip in the air she didn’t move, letting the morning chill wash over her. The sensation of the cold made her feel alive. She glanced back into the room as the morning light broke the horizon. The fire was dead behind her.
The room contained a beautiful canopy bed that had been hand carved and matched the other furniture. The only piece that was different was the wardrobe. It was a darker colored wood that had fairies and flowers carved into the doors. When she’d first come there, she used to cry and trace her fingers over the images, drawing comfort from the possibility of a different life. It had given her hope. What a foolish child she had been.
The beautiful sunrise turned to ash in her mouth at the memories. The courtyard filled with people, and the noises of their going about their day drifted up to where she sat. She would occasionally glance down at them, but the height made her sick, and she had to turn away eventually every time.
There was a slight creak as the door opened behind her. She didn’t turn because she knew who it was. Her new maid, Janlis, came the same time every morning to bring her breakfast and start her fire. She was the only person who came into her prison besides him.
“Lady Selene!” the maid cried as she set the tray of food onto the closest flat surface. Selene sighed as Janlis ushered her into the room. “You gave me a fright sitting so close to the edge,” the little maid exclaimed.
“I’ve never fallen,” Selene reminded her, though they shouldn’t worry about her falling. Leaping should be their concern.
“What would King Tricten think if he saw you like that?” Janlis asked.
Though Selene knew she didn’t actually want an answer, she said under her breath, “That I finally got enough courage to follow through with my threats.”
“What did you say?” Janlis asked as she pulled tops off of trays.
“I said I’m sure he wouldn’t care.” She picked up a carrot and munched on it.
“I believe you are mistaken,” Janlis replied, and Selene had to resist rolling her eyes.
“Perhaps I’ll test that theory and let you know the outcome,” Selene said as she drank her fruit juice.
Janlis gasped, and Selene hid her smile behind her cup. The poor maid was new and still wasn’t used to Selene’s antics. “You wouldn’t dare,” she exclaimed, still aghast.
“There is a lot you have to learn about me, Janlis,” Selene set her cup down before returning to the thick ledge.
Janlis looked antsy as she danced back and forth from foot to foot, but Selene knew she couldn’t do anything. Selene was special. Her blond hair meant she was touched by the sun, gifted by it to bring luck and good fortune to those in her presence. She was coveted and locked away where no one could take her. Lyreani kings loved stealing each other’s good luck charms.
She lived within the palace grounds, paraded at balls and ceremonies but trapped within the confines of stone. Janlis might want to admonish her behavior but would do little more than report it. Selene didn’t even glance toward the door as her maid left.
Shutting her eyes, she let the sound of other people living their lives wash over her. She listened to the guards and the palace servants, thankful when their voices were loud enough to reach her. She let herself be wrapped in their emotions and words.
Suddenly a voice cut through the rest. “Child of the Planets.”
Her eyes flew open at the sound, and she turned her head slowly. She scanned from one corner of the room to the other, certain the voice had come from inside the tower. She felt her skin prickle as her eyes revealed nothing. Selene slowly slid off the ledge and back into the room.
“Hello?” she called out into the seemingly empty room. Perhaps her sanity had finally broken.
“Here,” the voice called.
Her wide eyes darted to the single mirror in the room. She crept across the room, the soles of her slippers sliding slowly and making barely any sound. She drew closer and could see an image swirling in the mirror. When she stepped in front of it, the man looked up. He had strange markings on his face, and when he saw her his golden eyes focused into slits. He had purplish black hair on each side of his pointed ears. Everything around him was blurred by purple smoke. It swirled and danced around his face.
“Child of the Planets,” he said with a melodious voice that drew her in, “gifted by the Sun.”
Her teeth ground together at the words. “Who are you?” she demanded.
“Clever and pointed,” he replied. His image blurred for a moment before coming back into focus. “We shall meet an accord yet.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“True, child, true.” He seemed amused by her attitude. “I am a demon of the highest order, sent to track relations of the Spiritwalker.”
“Spiritwalker?” she asked, confused. “I don’t know any Spiritwalkers. I don’t know anybody.”
“Blood sings to blood and does not lie.” She had the sense that the smile that followed was supposed to be reassuring, but it made her grimace. Teeth were not supposed to be that sharp.
“What do you want from me?” Selene asked, crossing her arms. “Everyone knows not to mess with demons.”
“Nonsense,” he said, as though the word would be enough to make her cast aside her suspicions. “There is an unfair prejudice against demons as a whole, and as with every rule, there are exceptions. All I am here to do is help my master and you.”
Selene leaned a little closer, interested. “Help me how?”
“Freedom and family,” the demon told her.
“And in return?” She eyed him suspiciously.
He grinned again, and this time she refused to look at his teeth. “You must come to the Netherworld willingly.”
Chapter 20: Netherworld
Elisabeth had been avoiding everything and everyone for the last two days. She had insisted to be shown to the library and had decided nothing could deter her. She had pored over the words in an attempt to find something, anything. Holing up in the library was enough to keep King Nauberon at bay, at least. She only saw him at meal times—and even that seemed like too much.
She didn’t understand what in the world had happened. The last time she had seen him, he had been kind to her because he’d needed her to find the darkness. He had even gifted her with Arawn for protection to that end. She had felt his indifference toward her. She’d been like a pawn on a game board—he wouldn’t have minded if she died, as long as his game had been won. Despite her misgivings, she couldn’t ignore the difference between that and his expressions this time.
With a sigh, Elisabeth gingerly closed another book. She wore white gloves because most of the books’ covers were made from skin. Some were from people, and she didn’t want to touch them. Before, she’d been able to sense bad things when she’d touched them, even see memories if it was a violent death, but now that she’d accepted her other half, she could even see how they’d lived. Her thoughts went to the book, the book from the Netherworld, and woman who had been burned at the stake. She’d been hired to take are of a restless spirit, but had found the book instead that had eventually lead her to A.J. Worse, she sometimes saw how they’d
died. If their deaths had been violent enough, she would feel them, as had happened when she’d walked on the spirit animals’ bodies in Hystera.
Settling back, Elisabeth took in her surroundings. The room was beautiful. The bookshelves had been carved from the trunks of trees that still seemed to be alive. Roots twisted and dove into the ground. Around them a stone floor lay with a single gathering area in the middle. An intricate set of columns rose up around her in a deep charcoal gray before continuing on to an eight-sided roof. Two matching gray stone tables rose up, twined with black metal. Matching chairs and benches were gathered around the tables or at the edges of the place.
There was nothing like it anywhere else. No place where rain in a library—inside—was completely normal. The skins’ purpose was to protect the books. Strangely, there was something about the Netherworld that felt like home—a home she had never known and would likely never accept.
She was about to reach for another book when a giggle reverberated through the room. Elisabeth stood. The air hummed with her heightened power as her eyes scanned the area for any movement.
“Who is there?” she called into the darkness at the edges of the room.
“Why can’t I see your future?” a voice said. Elisabeth whirled toward the sound.
A woman sat in the chair across from her. Her hair curled in thick locks around her shoulders and over her breasts. A veil partially covered her face, but from the shape of her face, the upturn of her lips, and her slender neck, Elisabeth could tell she was a great lady.
“Who are you?” Elisabeth asked without addressing her question.
“My name is Destiny,” she said. Elisabeth took in a sharp breath.
She tried not to betray any emotion as the woman tilted her head at her reaction. “Take off the veil,” Elisabeth demanded.
Destiny didn’t argue. She lifted the fabric. After her nose, there wasn’t anything. Where eyes should have been, there was only solid flesh. She let the veil fall down around her face once more.