by K T Munson
“King Nauberon hasn’t moved a gate since he became king. The last was when King Nauberon was born. According to my records, that was when Oran was added.” She spoke the words offhandedly as she held the charm up to gates.
Nanette’s eyed her friend as she swung the charm between two gates slowly. One gate was black, like obsidian, while the other one was a gray simple rock. Finally she lowered it. From the way her eyebrows furrowed, Nanette would have put her expression down to perplexity.
“What is it?” Nanette asked.
Elisabeth started shaking her head. “The charm is lighting up on both of these gates. I don’t understand.”
The gray gate shone softly with an eerie blue color that hardly eclipsed the darkness. The other one was a happy blue that seemed to shimmer like water, and it made the glossy black glisten. Neither of them seemed all that inviting, but at least one had a happier blue. Then she remembered all of the terrifying things that existed in the Netherworld that looked beautiful but were deadly.
“Which one?” Nanette asked. “Which one do we go into?”
Elisabeth started drumming her fingers across her leg, a habit that signaled that she was trying to make a difficult decision. It was something Nanette had noticed about her friend early on.
“It looks like nighttime there. It would be better to avoid entering an unfamiliar place at night,” Elisabeth reasoned aloud. Her gaze swept once more between the gates, as though she were double-checking her decision. “We go through this one.”
Nanette nodded, although she felt a little sick from the uncertainty. Her fingers tightened around Elisabeth’s hand as her friend took a step forward. Glancing back in surprise, Elisabeth blinked at her. Nanette tried to keep the worry from her face but felt her eyebrows furrow despite her best efforts.
“I’m afraid,” Nanette admitted, her eyes locked on the gate.
“I won’t let anything happen to you. But I won’t lie to you—it will be dangerous. I can’t take you back to the Netherworld, but I also can’t give up on him.” Elisabeth looked desperate when she mentioned Ki.
Nanette knew better than anyone what it was like to be separated from someone you cared about. It was even worse not knowing how they felt. Just as Nanette hadn’t known about Ethan, Elisabeth didn’t know about Ki. She didn’t know if Ki was even alive. Nanette put her hand across her stomach. Everything she did lately was filled with ambiguity.
Nanette put on a brave smile. “We’d better go before I lose courage.”
Elisabeth stepped through the gate with Nanette directly behind her. She felt the same strange sensation of silk passing over her flesh a moment before the water rushed in. Panic set in as her arms flailed and she let go of the watch. Elisabeth pushed off the rock face containing the gate as Nanette hurried toward the surface and she gulped down a greedy breath of air. Strands of hair covered her face, but she slicked them back as she treaded water. Thankfully she had been born in Oran, or surely she would have drowned. Growing up on a planet mostly made up of islands and water meant she’d known how to swim almost from birth.
As the initial shock subsided, she was finally able to catch her breath. A moment later, dread settled in. “Elisabeth?” she called against the beautiful blue water, realizing she hadn’t surfaced. “Elisabeth!” she shouted, turning in a circle. There were the cliffs behind her. To their left was a shore line of pale sand with a thin tree line. The rest of was water—an endless open ocean.
As panic set in, her breathing became rigid. Being on a strange planet alone would be worse than anything she had ever faced—even worse than the Netherworld. She didn’t have the watch, and Elisabeth might be dead. As she was about to go underwater to look for her friend, a fist, followed closely by a head, broke the surface.
“Elisabeth!” Nanette called, swimming toward her.
“I’ve got the watch,” Elisabeth said as she coughed. “Are you all right?”
“Fine!” Nanette exclaimed. “I was so worried.”
“I’m fine, and I have the watch.” Elisabeth sounded relieved. “Swim toward the shore.”
Nanette made her way toward the beautiful sandy shoreline. Elisabeth’s current clothing was more suited to swimming than Nanette’s and she quickly caught up. Just as Nanette was starting to tire from her long dress, her toes touched sand. She half swam and half stumbled onto the shore, the waves pushing at her back carrying her the last length.
The water was so warm closer to the shore. Grateful, Nanette fell onto the beach and let the warm water lap over her. Elisabeth stood over her and laughed as the sun beat down on them and the water washed lazily over her. It may have been a terrible start, but the general serenity of where they were didn’t take long to set in.
“Come on,” Elisabeth said after a moment and helped Nanette to her feet.
As her friend’s hands wrapped around her waist, Nanette briefly considered fighting Elisabeth’s hold so she could rest longer but realized the futility of the effort. She scanned the coastline as she got to her feet. They both took in the beauty of the place. Nanette hoped he was there. And hoped he knew how to swim.
Her eyes darted back to where they had come from. Nanette was only going to go through that one more time, and it would be to leave this place. Just because she knew how to swim didn’t mean she liked it. She reached down, picked up the edge of her dress, and wrung out the water. When Elisabeth glanced back at her, Nanette noticed how pale she was in comparison to the dark hair that fell across her face. Until now she hadn’t noticed how severe Elisabeth’s face appeared. She wouldn’t go so far as to consider it gaunt, but Nanette didn’t remember her cheekbones being so harsh.
“It is beautiful here,” Elisabeth whispered. There was weariness in her eyes that spoke to exhaustion that Nanette had never seen before. In a way Elisabeth seemed like a soldier who had seen too much but kept fighting. Despite it all, as they stood there on the beach, soaked to the bone, Elisabeth had never seemed more amazing to Nanette.
“We need to find shelter.” Elisabeth said finally and turned away from the pristine shoreline, “and get dry. We don’t know how cold it gets at night.”
“Where does the charm point?” Nanette asked.
Elisabeth fished it out of her pocket and found that it was also wet. The strange markings had smeared during their swim. Frowning, Nanette realized they would need more chalk to fix it. In their rush, neither of them had brought a bag.
“We can use ash to repair the markings,” Elisabeth said before tucking the charm away. “It would be best if we started a fire and took shelter.”
Nanette struggled against her heavy damp dress as they began walking. After a few steps, she had a thought. “Shouldn’t we mark where the gate is?”
“Don’t worry. I can feel it,” Elisabeth told her with a reassuring smile.
Nanette lifted her eyebrows in surprise. Every day Elisabeth seemed to discover a new ability. Since Ki had been taken and Elisabeth had accepted all of herself, things that had seemed so difficult before were suddenly easy for her. Nanette worried sometimes about where the limits to her powers were. And what if there weren’t limits? Nanette quietly contemplated this as Elisabeth led them into the forest.
Chapter 33: Morhaven
Kerrigan opened her eyes slowly with a groan. Absentmindedly, she reached up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She felt heavy. It wasn’t until she sat up that she realized what was weighing her down. Letting out a surprised squeak of astonishment, she rocketed to her feet and inspected her sternum with her fingers. She felt flesh beneath her hands! Her fingers went to her face as she felt her features. It took her a moment to realize it was her face—the face she’d worn before death.
Tears pricked her eyes, and her lips twisted at the sudden rush of emotion, each facial expression strange but familiar. She covered her eyes with her hands and sobbed from shock and the sensation of being whole again. Poised at the edge of the bed, she hugged herself, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was
crying so hard that she didn’t hear a voice at first.
When she finally realized someone was talking to her, she wiped her tears away. “What?” she asked.
“Are you all right?” a soft, feminine voice asked. It took her a moment to realize that the voice was coming from the other side of a set of ornate double doors bordered with gold trim.
Sniffling, Kerrigan wondered how she could possibly explain that she was more than all right. How she could explain that she had died and had been brought back? It was impossible. She must be dreaming, for how else could it be true?
“Yes,” Kerrigan finally managed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. It was in that moment that she realized that she didn’t know where she was. “Where am I?”
“This is the great palace at Morhaven. They brought you here after The Wild Hunt,” the voice said from the other side of the doors. “Fanta was telling me all about it. Said we needed to stay here until Arawn returned and the Hunt was over.”
Kerrigan walked across the room to the door. “Who is Arawn?”
“He is the hunter for the king,” the girl on the other side explained. Her voice sounded stronger now that Kerrigan was closer. “King Nauberon.”
All of her memories suddenly rushed back in—going with the Erinyes, Tisiphone, seeing the bad man killed and his soul harvested, and Jinq passing over. The moment she thought of Jinq, she started crying again. She couldn’t help it. They had been closer than friends; he had been her mentor. They had shared a body and shared their thoughts. When others had betrayed or abandoned her, he had been patient and kind.
“What is it?” the girl asked, her voice rising an octave.
“I just remembered,” she managed through her tears, “that my friend died.”
There was a pause. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“All because I agreed to come here to help another friend.” Kerrigan tried to keep herself from wailing. She missed Jinq terribly already. Her mind seemed suddenly lonely without him. Kerrigan heard a scraping noise by the door handle. She sniffled and wiped the snot from her nose.
“What are you doing?”
“The outer lock isn’t pickable, but this one is,” the girl explained. “And now that I know you aren’t here to trick me or kill me, I am sick of talking through the door.”
“How do you know I am not trying to trick you or kill you?” Kerrigan asked. The scraping noise came again, followed by an annoyed sound.
“These fancy locks are such a pain!” Her voice was muffled. “Oh, and no demon would cry that much to eat my soul.”
Kerrigan sniffled as the last of the tears stopped. “Demons like deals more than souls. At least that’s what Elisabeth told me.”
“Who is Elisabeth?” she asked in a distracted way that implied she was concentrating on something else.
“Another friend,” Kerrigan replied, realizing she didn’t know anything about the girl on the other side of the door either.
“It must be nice to have so many friends,” she muttered again, so quietly that Kerrigan could barely hear her. Leaning up against the door, Kerrigan wondered how much she could trust the other girl.
“How did you get here?” Kerrigan asked. Instantly, the scraping stopped.
For a moment Kerrigan thought she wasn’t going to answer. “I came here willingly.”
Kerrigan sat up and looked at the door. “Why?”
“I could ask the same of you. What friend is worth coming to the Netherworld on the belly of the demon?”
“Elisabeth is.” Kerrigan whispered.
“Aha!” the girl said, and the doorknob turned.
As the door began to open, Kerrigan scrambled to her feet. There, on the other side of the door, stood a blond haired girl. She hurried into the room and closed the door. She wore a purple dress that was twice as fine as anything Kerrigan had ever worn. Her hair was loose around her head, but it wasn’t until she turned that Kerrigan stopped breathing.
“Who are you?” Kerrigan demanded and took a step back.
“What’s wrong with you?” the blond girl asked as she, too, took a startled step back.
Kerrigan rushed forward and took hold of the girl’s arm before she could move. She might never have completed her own warrior training, but the girl appeared to have none. She was thin, almost painfully so, as though she starved herself. Her face had already lost most of its roundness despite the fact that she couldn’t be more than a year or two older than Kerrigan.
“Let me go!” she screeched and tried to pull back.
“Why do you look like her?” Kerrigan demanded, easily batting away the girl’s hands when she tried to get away.
The girl went very still. “Who do I look like?”
“Selene!” someone called from the next room and a small woman stepped into the open doorway.
Kerrigan turned to face the woman, tugging Selene safely behind her. She went into a fighting stance as the woman gave her a startled look. There were markings on her face, and she wore a beautiful green outfit that seemed feather light. Her ears were pointed at the ends and her hair was the color of soft hay.
“You shouldn’t be up!” the little woman exclaimed. She looked more childlike then they did.
“Fanta,” Selene said, moving out from behind Kerrigan, “who is she?”
“A friend of the Spiritwalker.” Fanta rushed to push Kerrigan toward the bed. Kerrigan moved out of the way and sidestepped to keep Selene behind her.
“Who are you?” Kerrigan demanded, putting an arm up to keep Selene behind her.
“I am Fanta, a caretaker,” she said and put her hands on her hips. “You are making it very difficult for me to do my job!” she chided.
Before Kerrigan could argue, Selene put a hand on her arm. “She is fine.”
Kerrigan lowered her arm with a nod, though she didn’t want to. She didn’t want anyone coming near her either, but she needed them in order to find out where Elisabeth was. For Elisabeth she would try.
“Why does she look like Elisabeth?” Kerrigan began and then corrected herself. “Why does she look like the Spiritwalker?”
“I’m her cousin,” Selene said before Fanta could speak. “I came here to see her.”
“Elisabeth doesn’t have any family. She told me herself.”
“I don’t think she knew.” Selene shrugged. “I sure didn’t.”
“Where is she?” Kerrigan said, looking around, “She must be so excited.”
“You don’t know?” Selene looked to Fanta for confirmation.
Kerrigan’s hands went to her hips. “Don’t know what?”
Selene’s face wilted in sadness. “Elisabeth caused the Wild Hunt.”
Chapter 34: Ashlad
Malthael observed the edges of their world go quiet. Soon an eerie silence would descend down around them as the last of the Divine Court rode the clouds to the Morhaven. Darkness had to be returning to the Netherworld, and the Wild Hunt would end as it had begun—suddenly.
The door creaked open behind him, and he glanced back. “What is it?”
“I worry, Malthael,” Tiss said as she slithered into the room. “Elisabeth has sent no word.”
“Pray that she does not,” Malthael responded before turning back to the window and the clouds. “Pray that she succeeded.”
“You should have stopped her,” Tiss insisted. “She is putting herself at risk.”
Malthael clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head to the sky. “She is putting more than herself at risk,” Malthael said without glancing back. “She is the last of her kind. She is putting all of us at risk.”
Tiss came to stand beside him, looking at him instead of at the turmoil in the clouds. “Why then did you let her go?”
“She is my daughter, not my property.” Malthael turned to her. His chest felt heavy from his tormented soul. “Could you have commanded that she stayed? Could you have told her to ignore her own heart and abandon someone she cared for? I did that onc
e, abandoned someone I didn’t understand I cared for. I could not ask that of her.”
“Serena chose to face Darienith. She chose to die so that her daughter might live,” Tiss reminded him.
“I left her there, Tiss,” Malthael said, overcome with emotion. “I could have protected them both, but I chose to leave Serena there. Our pact was still in place when she died, I felt her soul being ripped apart. I didn’t know what a friend was, but she was that to me. I am only here, alive, because she protected me, but I couldn’t do the same for her.”
“You swore that you would protect her daughter. The pact may have ended when Serena died, but you did not stop keeping your commitment. You protected and raised her daughter as your own. You gave her as much warmth and love as you could. You honored Serena’s memory,” Tiss insisted, laying a hand across Malthael’s bulky arm.
“I have always been honest with Elisabeth. I told her every truth, even this. She was so young, and yet she hated me for what I’d done. I couldn’t tell her again when she could remember; I couldn’t look her in the face and tell her that I abandoned her mother for dead. I think she forgot on purpose and when she asked me again I told her nothing. By the time she was old enough to understand, I couldn’t bring myself to see the revulsion.” Malthael’s hands clenched into tight fists at the admission.
“She wouldn’t blame you,” Tiss insisted. “She has always loved all of us without judgment. You, most of all.”
“I could take her blame,” Malthael whispered. “But I could not take her hatred.”
“I don’t think that girl could ever hate you.” Tiss smiled softly. “When Milo—” Malthael growled at the name. After a moment Tiss continued, “When he betrayed her, she didn’t hate him. It broke her heart. Our Elisabeth is loyal, even to those she shouldn’t be.”
“You don’t approve of her choice?” Malthael asked with a cunning grin.
“Our Elisabeth deserves a king, not an assassin.” Tiss huffed, her serpentine tail curling closer to her body—a sign of anger.