by Bea Paige
Gabe nods sharply and we both fly towards the Shadowlands and home.
Chapter Sixteen
Fern
Twirling on unsteady feet, I take in the immediate vicinity. Grey mist surrounds us, and I can barely see six feet in front of me. Fear prickles my skin. It doesn’t feel very welcoming at all.
Taking a hesitant step forward, I stumble, my brain not quite catching up with the fact that we’re walking on terra firma. Mihr reaches out and hauls me upright, not letting me go until I am steady.
“It takes some getting used to.”
I laugh a little hysterically. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this,” I say, flinging my hand wide. It cuts through the swirling fog. It reminds me of the clouds we’ve just passed through and the creature that seemed intent on harming me. “What the hell was that thing? Should I be worried?”
“Only Clan Vitae can enter the Shadowlands. Whatever that abomination was, it won’t be able to gain entry here,” Mihr signs, though his expression tells me that perhaps he’s not so certain. That and the fact that he keeps anxiously looking over his shoulder.
“What about Gabe and Ether? Will they be okay?” I remember the stream of blood and a sudden fierce protectiveness engulfs me. It’s as surprising as it is bewildering.
“They have the advantage of speed and skill. That thing was clunfy…”
“Clunfy?” My eyebrows pull together in confusion, perhaps I misunderstood. He signs the word again. I watch more carefully this time. “Oh, clumsy,” I say. He nods his head in affirmation.
“I only caught a brief glimpse of it before Gabe tackled it in mid-air, but it couldn’t fly all that well, which is not surprising really, given it had metal wings and a body that appeared to be made of stone.”
“There was blood, do you think…” My voice stomach twists at the fear that makes me feel.
“I think they’ll do everything they can to defeat the creature. Ether let you go because he knew I was there to catch you, and so he could help Gabe take it down. If Gabe hadn’t arrived the way he did, I’m not sure what would’ve happened. Only dark magic can produce something as grotesque as that… it must be Queen Adrielle.” His hands tremble slightly as he signs. He’s worried. So am I.
“What happens now? Should we wait for them?”
Mihr shakes his head. “This isn’t the only way to enter the Shadowlands and knowing Ether like I do, he will draw the creature far away from here. Hopefully they will destroy it and then we will have no reason to be concerned…” His voice trails off. He doesn’t seem so certain they will be successful.
“Mihr, they will be okay, won’t they?”
“Honestly, I don’t know...” Mihr holds out his hand as though I should take it. I look from his hand to his face.
“But I can’t…”
He frowns, his eyebrows knotting together. “Of course you can’t. How stupid of me.” Pulling his hand back, his right wing slides out instead, reaching behind my back. I feel the press of feathers against me, urging me forward. I shiver at the touch, wishing I could hold his hand too. This place is creepy. It sends goosebumps scattering over my skin.
Side by side we walk through the ever-increasing mist. A weak light illuminates our way forward. Amongst the strange fog, more humanoid shapes form.
“I feel as though we’re being watched,” I say, pointing to a looming figure closest to us. I shiver, wrapping my arms across my chest. “What are they exactly?”
“What you see are shadows left behind from clan members passing through the mists. We will leave a similar shadow behind as well. An imprint left as a record of our entrance.”
“They aren’t real?” I squeak, as a shadow brushes past my shoulder, dispersing the moment it touches me. I freeze as a distressing memory enters my thoughts. Before me, a woman is on her knees begging for her life, tears streaming down her face. A hand reaches out to touch her and within minutes she is dead. The memory recedes in a puff of mist. I gasp, feeling the urge to throw up.
“Careful, Fern,” Mihr says as he wraps his wing around my shoulder, pulling me close. “You need to avoid the shadows as much as possible. You don’t want to see what they hold.”
“It’s too late for that now. Whoever that memory belonged to, they killed a woman in cold blood, Mihr.”
“A victim of the Queen at the hand of one of Clan Vitae. This is who we are now, but no life is taken without cost to us. Believe me when I say not one of us like who we are.”
“I can’t bear it. You live here, in this place full of heartbreak and pain?”
Mihr sighs. “Not quite, this place we are passing through is the Shadowlands. Beyond here is where all Clan Vitae actually reside.”
“I thought you said you lived within the Shadowlands?”
“Strictly speaking, we do. The Shadowlands form a circle around our real home. It is a white lie. We never know who might be listening. If Queen Adrielle knew just what secret we keep here, I have no doubt she would try and take our home as her own, or at the very least take what she needs from it for her own benefit. As you can see, these mists hold secrets and pain. Clan Vitae unburden themselves of their sins amongst the Shadowlands. Those sins take a life of their own, preventing others who are not born of Clan Vitae from entering whilst allowing us to return home. If you were to seek out one of the shadows you will re-live the memory. It’s not a pleasant experience.”
I step closer to Mihr, glancing at a shadow in the near distance. Its shape is oddly familiar. The same height and width of Gabe. It moves like him too. I shudder. How many memories has Gabe left behind here? How many have Mihr, Ether? What memory will I leave behind?
My step jars and I stumble forward. Mihr reacts immediately, reaching out and hauling me upright. His hands lift me up beneath my armpits, holding me steady.
“Thank you,” I murmur. The warmth of his fingers sends goosebumps over my skin. I wait for the cold to creep in. It doesn’t. Why doesn’t it? I know he feels the strangeness too. I glance over my shoulder at Mihr, who is looking at me with fascination. He withdraws one hand, the other sliding over my back as I turn to face him. Even here in this cool, dank mist, his palm against my lower back fills me with warmth.
“Your touch, it won’t hurt me, will it? Not like Gabe’s...”
He doesn’t answer me straight away. Instead I feel his hand flex, then pull away.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t appear to, but I’ve only ever touched you briefly skin-to-skin. I don’t want to take the risk.”
“But your touch is different, I feel it. Ether’s is different too, it’s a searing heat, but it isn’t painful, though he’s not touched me long enough to see if that might change.”
“A searing heat, you say?” Mihr asks, looking thoughtful.
“Yes.” I feel my cheeks warm. I’m not sure why that makes me feel uncomfortable. I continue talking to cover my embarrassment. “Gabe’s starts out warm like yours but becomes ice-cold quickly. It drains me, but it isn’t unpleasant, not in the way I imagine it should be, given what he can do.” Mihr’s jaw clenches at my confession but he doesn’t say the words I am sure are on the tip of his fingers. “The sickness I feel in his presence is worse than his touch. Yours, Mihr, yours is warm, comforting. I don’t feel unwell when you touch me. I like it,” I whisper.
“You do?” Mihr signs, his summer-blue eyes searching mine.
“Yes.” Without thinking about what I am doing, I hold my hands out to Mihr, palms upwards. He looks from my face to my hands and back again.
“This isn’t wise. You are already in danger from Gabe. I will not make it worse,” Mihr says, shaking his head.
“I don’t believe you’ll hurt me…” I say.
Mihr swipes his palm over the light stubble of his face, blonde prickles that I have the urge to touch. He takes a step closer, the mist seems to close in around us. Mihr’s wings wrap around me in a protective embrace.
“So the shadows can’t touch you,” he says by way of an explana
tion.
I nod my head, my hand still facing palm upwards. He brings his hand up, palms facing down over mine. There is an inch gap between them and, despite the damp mist, I can feel the heat between our palms. My breath hitches in my mouth and I find that I cannot move. I want him to touch me. I watch as he bends his middle finger and very gently grazes his fingertip over the palm of my hand and wrist. A delicate heat unfolds. It ignites something deep in the pit of my stomach.
Mihr snatches his hand away and steps back. “Not here,” he signs sharply, his fingers jerking with tension.
“You’re angry at me?”
“No. Not with you.” He tucks his hands in his jean pockets and walks forward, our conversation over for now.
I’m not sure how long we walk for, it seems like an age, and no time at all. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence. I’ve spent too long living alone with my thoughts. “It’s very disconcerting not being able to see solid ground and knowing this place is somewhere high up in the sky. I have no way of knowing whether a wrong step would mean me falling to my death,” I ramble, avoiding eye contact with Mihr. Instead I concentrate on his hand movements, made even more beautiful by the mists that swirl around him as he communicates.
“You won’t fall. It’s impossible. We are no longer in the sky,” he signs.
I stop walking. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Magic has a funny way of tilting reality. We leave and arrive through the sky, but this place is firmly grounded. We have searched every single part of it, and there is no edge, no place to fall. The only way to leave is through one of the funnels, like the one we arrived in.”
“But I don’t know where they are. I could unknowingly step on one.”
Mihr stops, indicating for me to turn around. He points back in the rough direction we walked in, though how he knows is a mystery, given what we’re surrounded by. I can barely see six feet in front of me. Everything looks the same.
“Can you see that circle of blue light over there?” he asks, his hands moving in explanation.
I follow his gaze and in the distance I can, indeed, see a ring of blue.
“There are several of those dotted around the Shadowlands. They act as both the entrance to and exit from this place. As long as you don’t step on one you will be perfectly safe.”
“I see.”
Mihr’s eyes widen in shock as he turns his body fully to face mine.
“What?”
He points to my hands, to the lingering movements. Had I just communicated with him in sign language, in his sign language, that up until a few hours ago I couldn’t understand, let alone converse in?
“You can sign…” he says. It is not a question, but a statement of fact.
I tip my right palm upwards, then swipe my middle finger of my left hand across its surface. Understanding and knowledge filters through my consciousness as the action happens naturally. “Yes,” I respond.
“How is this possible?” he asks, both bewildered and, dare I say, happy. A smile lingers on his lips. It is tentative, uncertain and it is gone before I am certain it was there at all.
“I thought you’d be able to tell me that…”
My sentence is cut short as a sudden presence appears behind us. I know who it is. Ether. My other senses recognise his power and leadership. It presses against me, willing me to obey. I wonder if it is the same for Gabe and Mihr, or if it is just me that feels this way around him.
We both turn to face him.
“Ether, you’re okay!” I step forward, but he raises his hand. “Don’t touch me… please,” he begs. The sound of his voice wobbles slightly. “I am not myself.”
I step back obediently, glancing at Mihr.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“That creature…” Ether starts, then he shakes his head and rubs his hand across his bare arms.
“Are you okay? Is Gabe alright? What happened to you both?” I ask.
Ether breathes out slowly. “We are both fine. Right now, what matters most to me is that we leave the Shadowlands at once. Tillan wants to speak with you, Fern, and Gabe needs to know you’re okay.”
“She wants to speak with me?”
“Yes. You must come, now,” he says to me, then directs his next question at Mihr. “What the hell have you been doing? You’ve been gone hours. Gabe is going mad with worry. Tillan is having trouble keeping him calm and you know how crazy he gets,” Ether says, disappointment and anger marking his features.
“What do you mean, hours? We just got here,” I say, bewildered once more. Gabe is going mad with worry? That errant thought has my heart lurching and my face reddening. Not to mention Ether’s indignation. He frowns at me, then glares at Mihr.
“No, you haven’t. Mihr knows this. If you stop for just a moment, the shadows will hold you here. Just like now, we are wasting even more time. Spending too long in this place is dangerous for the soul, especially one as pure as yours.”
I glance at Mihr. He looks decidedly uncomfortable. “Apologies, Ether. I should have brought Fern directly.”
“So why didn’t you?” Ether grits his jaw, unimpressed.
Mihr’s cheeks flood with colour. “There is no excuse.”
“You kept me here on purpose?” I sign, pulling a surprised look from Ether, though he doesn’t question how I’m suddenly able to sign in Mihr’s language.
“Damn it, Mihr, you know the dangers this place holds, the memories of the damned that lurk in here and the stories of the dead. You also know Gabe and how he feels about Fern.”
How does Gabe feel about me? I want to ask, but I suspect neither Ether or Mihr would be comfortable telling me.
“I do, and that’s the issue.” Mihr’s jaw clenches. “Fern shouldn’t be around him. You know his control is lacking.”
“He was controlled enough to fight that damn creature instead of snatching Fern out of my arms. I believe he can do this.”
Mihr scoffs. “Tell that to Fern whose face is still numb, who has a death sentence over her head.”
Ether makes a sound of annoyance. “We’ll discuss this later. Let’s move. We need to get back.” He marches forward, with Mihr and me following. I notice that one of his wings has lost a chunk of feathers, so that the bottom falls in a jagged mess.
“They’ll grow back,” Mihr signs, noticing my concern.
I nod tightly.
“Why did you keep me in here so long? I was worried about Gabe and Ether. You knew that.”
Mihr bows his head, his dark blonde hair falling forward. “I wanted you to myself, it was selfish. I’m sorry, I’m not normally like this.”
His answer takes me aback, but the feeling of shock is soon replaced by surprise as I step out of the mists and into a world that calls to some long-lost part of me. A memory flickers at the corner of my consciousness. A memory I shouldn’t be able to remember. A tiny hand, not quite formed yet, flutters into my consciousness. A warm liquid surrounds me as the distant beat of another heart synchronises with mine.
Mother.
“Welcome to Utero. This is our home,” Ether says as he flings his arms out in a wide arc.
Chapter Seventeen
“This is your home?” I am overwhelmed by the strange beauty of the place, not to mention the dozens of angels flying high above us. They move between floating platforms, on top of which are buildings that look suspiciously like houses, Japanese houses with curved roofs and wooden shutters. “You live in those?” I ask, pointing upwards.
“Indeed. We have wings, why not live above the ground?”
The statement is quite ironic, given how we arrived here. “I thought you said I won’t be able to fall?” I say to Mihr.
“You won’t fall,” he responds quickly.
I roll my eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You have wings, I don’t.”
Mihr and Ether exchange looks. I know I should be worried, but frankly I have very little energy left to try and figure out
what that look actually means. Instead, I concentrate on the view before me.
Beyond the houses, the sky is lit a soft pink. There is no sun as far as I can tell, but the place is filled with a calming, dappled light. It’s comforting.
There is very little to look at between the floating platforms and the ground, just lots and lots of empty space that stretches on for miles. There’s no water, no trees, no other buildings or roadways. Nothing as far as I can see.
My gaze falls to my feet. We are standing on russet coloured stone, pearly blue veins running through it. I take a step forward. The ground feels spongy like moss, even though it appears hard like stone.
It reminds me of something…
“Like a mother’s womb,” I mumble. My head snaps to Mihr. “What the hell is this place?”
“Ether told you, we are in Utero…” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“You do realise that this goes way beyond weird.”
Ether shrugs his shoulders. “Queen Adrielle’s magic may have cursed us all, but this place was born of a different kind of magic. A magic that lives beyond darkness and death. It may be weird, but for the last one thousand years this place has been a sanctuary for us.”
“You’ve kept this place secret from everyone?”
“We had to. Trusting anyone outside of our clan is hard for our people, and risky. There are so many who would betray us, given the choice. The Shadowlands is our home. This place, it does not exist,” Ether explains.
“You said Queen Adrielle would never come here, but if she did, would she want to take this place for herself?” I ask Mihr.
“She takes everything for herself, whether she wants it or not. She would want this place for its magic. It’s filled with it,” he responds.
“It is?”
“Yes, watch.”
My head snaps back to Ether, who rips the shirt from his back, baring his skin. Tattooed across the ripped muscles of his abdomen and chest is a beautiful depiction of a field filled with bluebells, lit by a pink and orange sunrise. The tattoo speaks of rebirth and new beginnings. It speaks of hope and joy.