Unseen

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Why do you wish to speak to me alone?”

  “I have something to ask you.”

  “Then ask it, and we can be done.”

  He laughed aloud, the acerbic quality of the sound cutting through the stagnant air surrounding us.

  “You and I will never be done, but I will get what I came for and leave if it helps support that fantasy for you.”

  “Ask.”

  He paused for a moment.

  “Do you really wish to free Drew?”

  I turned to face him slowly, my eyes narrowed while they assessed his expression.

  “Yes,” I said curtly. “I told him I would and I will see it done, though I cannot fathom why this is of such great concern to you. Great enough that you would seek me out privately to interrogate me on the matter.” I let my gaze fall back on the water before me, dismissing him with my indifference.

  “Releasing him would be a mistake.”

  “Saving you was a mistake, Ozereus,” I replied sharply. “Saving Drew would be righting a great injustice.”

  “Is that what you think you did? What you think you are doing?” he asked, grabbing my chin to turn my face toward him. “Saving us?” He released me with a snap of his wrist. “I have never, nor will I ever, need your saving. Is that clear?” I only stared at him in response. “As for your brother, he has met his fate. Intervening on his behalf undermines his sacrifice as a warrior, though I am quite certain you do not see it that way. He has fallen, as many of the PC have. He is surrounded by those souls. He is home now. Leave him be.”

  “Why is this of such great concern to you? You care not for my brothers or how their souls rest.”

  “I know this guilt that follows you around like a black cloud will poison your every pure intention,” he said sharply. “Having known you before your transformation, I find it incredibly hard to understand. You were far more entertaining when you were cold and detached—unaffected by anything.”

  “I was not devoid of all emotion when we met,” I countered. “There was a barely perceptible shift in me when I met my brothers, as if my being had finally found a place that it belonged to. I would not have fought to stay there if that had not been the case.”

  He quirked his brow at me.

  “And now you are the Khara-equivalent of a hormonal teenage girl. Fascinating.”

  “Are you finished? You got your answer.”

  “I got my answer but have not made my point.” His eyes bored into mine, and he leaned in closer, speaking softly as though we were surrounded by others whom he did not wish to overhear us. “If you will not leave him here for his own good, then do so for yours.”

  “My well-being is not a factor in this,” I argued, holding his stare.

  “You know not what powers you possess or how they work. You are an oddity—something this world and the world above have never seen. Do not think for one moment that you could not be used to inflict pain and suffering on those you care most for because of your own exceptionality.”

  “Why do you say this?” I asked, cynicism in my tone. “You care about nothing but yourself, and, in some bizarre way, perhaps me.”

  He smiled widely.

  “True. And I do love it when things go sideways, but I thought I would share this bit of information if for no other reason than to remind you at a later time that I did warn you. I do so hate to have petty things held against me.”

  “I absolve you of any and all responsibility, Oz. Do you now feel better? Perhaps you feel well enough about things to leave this place altogether?”

  His smile grew impossibly wider still.

  “I am not leaving the Underworld without you. That is a delusion you will need to let go of sooner rather than later.”

  “How about leaving me in peace now, then?”

  “Soon. I have another question to ask first.” He looked utterly unapologetic for changing the topic of our conversation. “Have you gotten the answers you came here for yet?”

  Of all the things he could have asked me, I did not expect that to be it. I stared at his darkened profile in silence, trying to discern why he would ask such a thing. It mattered not to him.

  “No,” I replied simply, letting my gaze fall back to the vast body of water before us.

  “And if you do not get them?”

  “Then I will search for them elsewhere.”

  “And if you do not find them?”

  “Then I will seek the source of the controversy—my mother.”

  He hesitated only slightly.

  “And if she is elusive?”

  “Then I will find Ares and ask him.”

  I heard Oz shift beside me, undoubtedly staring at me as though my reply was the most asinine thing he had ever heard. Perhaps it was. Sourcing answers from the one who, by all accounts, would order my death on sight was not the sanest plan ever proposed.

  “I wish Casey were here right now,” he murmured.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I do love it when he calls you batshit crazy, and that is precisely what that idea is. Bat. Shit. Crazy.”

  I shrugged ambivalently—a habit I allegedly shared with my twin.

  “My mind is unsettled. The feeling is foreign to me, and I do not enjoy it. I cannot rest as easily as I used to when I was content to simply know that she had given me up. When I knew not of my family, my true father, and what I am—what I was to become.” I felt the heat of anger rising within me, and I fought to contain it. The swell of emotions surrounding the mystery of my abandonment threatened my calm—the indifferent façade that I had so long held in place.

  Something in me had changed with the birthing of my wings. When I became whatever it was I had been destined to become. It was yet another circumstance I needed to adapt to. Unfortunately for me, I was doing a poor job of it. “I need to know the truth, even if it results in my death. That is an outcome I would accept. But the torment of never hearing the reasons behind her actions is an unacceptable fate. I will not allow it.”

  “And you think that Ares is the place to find truth?” he asked incredulously.

  “I do not. But if all else fails and he is my last resort, I will use him, come what may. I would rather die trying than not try at all.”

  I looked over my left shoulder to find him still staring at me, his jaw flexing wildly—his wings twitching behind him. They were begging to unfurl.

  “You will not die,” he said, barely restraining the anger that clearly coursed through him as well. “But as your father has told you before, there are fates worse than death.”

  His reply was enigmatic and heated, precisely what I had grown to expect from Oz. Fallen or Dark, some aspects of him seemed to change very little.

  “Such as?” I asked, baiting him. It may have been a dangerous decision, but I was frustrated and irritated, which made me feel like pressing him. I wanted to see just how much it would take to make him snap.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, his glare ferocious.

  “Like angering a Dark One.” He punctuated his statement by standing and snapping his wings wide.

  “Is that what I have done?” I asked, uncurling from my seated position to stand against him.

  “Not yet . . .”

  I leaned in closer to him.

  “Then I shall try harder next time.”

  With some effort, I forced my wings through the flesh and clothing that entrapped them, and extended them to their limits. They may not have been as grand as Oz’s, but they were a sight to behold. A muscle to flex.

  It was only seconds before he closed the distance between us, his bare chest in my face pumping wildly.

  “I don’t have to be your enemy, Khara, but that does not mean I won’t be. Do not push me.”

  “I will push if it pleases me,” I said, straining my neck to bring our faces closer together. “In fact, I may do whatever the fuck I want. This is my home. Not yours.” I hovered there before him; the proximity of our bodies became something I was
increasingly aware of as the seconds dragged on.

  He leaned down to my ear, his lips grazing it lightly.

  “This is not your home, new girl,” he whispered. “Be careful whose doorstep you lay your loyalty upon.”

  I felt the soft brush of his feathers on my bare shoulder when he stormed off past me, leaving me alone on the shore—exactly how I wanted to be. But now there was no peace for me there. He had tainted my haven.

  I could not shake the impact of his final thoughts. If his words were true and the Underworld was not my home, where was it that he thought I belonged? It was clear I was not one of the Light Ones, as I had assumed I would become. Surely he did not believe my place was with them.

  And why did he allude to my loyalty being misplaced? If his allegations were against my father, Oz was wrong, plain and simple. Hades had always done his best for me. There was not a traitorous bone in his body where I was concerned. I would not believe that about him. Ever.

  Frustrated, I threw a stone into the water, and it splashed wildly. A drop of the river’s water fell on my skin, burning a hole into it within seconds, again reminding me that what belied the Styx’s calm exterior was not to be underestimated—a lesson best applied to my dark-winged chaperone, perhaps.

  12

  It took far less time than before to locate Drew when I returned to the Elysian Fields to talk to him. Though it had not been an unpleasant place before his arrival, it seemed brighter now with him in it. Happier. More full of life, ironic though the thought seemed. Drew had an infectious inner strength and joy that could not be contained.

  I hoped those qualities would serve him well when Hades tried to send him back to the world above.

  The last time we had seen one another, Drew had not remembered me. Oz assured me that should change with time, though my confidence in his words wavered minutely when I approached my brother. I was in his periphery, choosing my angle of approach intentionally. Something dissonant inside me stirred with every step I took. I wondered if I would not be able to handle his unknowing stare and if I had therefore chosen to avoid it.

  However, without warning, he turned to face me, his eyes narrowing for a moment.

  “You . . .” he said curiously. “I know you.”

  “Yes. You do,” I replied as I came to stand before him. “I have been here to see you before.”

  “No . . .” His voice was soft and distant; his brow furrowed while he fought hard to recall the memory he sought. “I know you. From somewhere else. I . . . I just can’t remember.”

  “It will come,” I reassured him, realizing that I could not possibly present him with the choice I had intended to when he could not even remember who I was. It would have been cruel and unfair, two things he did not deserve. Especially when he was already somewhere he should not have been.

  Without another word, I turned to leave him, walking away slowly. I could feel heavy eyes watching me. Just before I would have been too far away to hear him, he called after me.

  “Khara!” My feet stopped instantly. “Your name is Khara.”

  I looked back to see him running toward me, confusion still marring his expression, though it was apparent his mind was clearing.

  I could not withhold the ghost of a smile that his remembrance had brought forth.

  “Yes. It is,” I replied, turning my body to face him. “I told you that when we last saw one another.”

  “That’s not it,” he said, shaking his head in frustration while he strained to remember something else. “I found you . . . in . . . in Detroit.” His mind was working vigorously, trying to keep up with the demand he placed on it. The effort was evident in the harsh set of his features. “I tried to kill you—”

  “You almost did,” I corrected. “But you stopped.”

  “I stopped,” he whispered to himself. “Why did I stop?”

  Judging by the expression on his face, he was asking himself and not me, so I allowed him to work through his memories unsupported. When his gaze snapped up to mine, disbelief in his eyes, I knew he had fully recollected that night in the alleyway.

  Not saying a word, he threw his arms around me, tightening his grip as though I would otherwise slip away. Perhaps I already had—in a sense.

  “How could I forget you?” he asked shakily. “How could I forget the sister I had only just found?”

  “That is not your fault, Drew. Bear it no mind.”

  He pushed me away from him gently, capturing my face in his hands.

  “Why are you here?” His words were commanding, just as they had been at the Victorian when he was able to compel those around him to answer. Unfortunately, that ability was lost to him in death. With any luck, it would return when Hades righted the injustice of Drew’s death.

  If he could.

  “Fear not, brother. I am here of my own volition. I am not dead.”

  “Fear not,” he muttered under his breath. “You always said that, didn’t you?” His question was rhetorical; I only smiled in response.

  “It is why Casey insists upon calling me batshit crazy.”

  “Yes . . .” he said, enlightenment dawning in his eyes. It was all coming back to him slowly. “Where is he—wait! He is here, too, isn’t he? And Kierson? And Pierson . . . did he—” He stopped short, unwilling to state aloud the fear that now ran through his mind.

  “He is well, as far as I know. He is still in Detroit.” Drew exhaled heavily. “Do you remember anything about what occurred before you awoke here?” I asked.

  “No. Not yet. I am still missing parts of that day. The day after you left.” He turned hurt, angry eyes to mine. “Why did you leave without consulting me first? It was a selfish and irresponsible thing to do, going to the Underworld with him. Alone.”

  “The opportunity presented itself, and I was loath to let it pass. There are things I need to obtain here. Answers that I could not possibly have gotten above.”

  “You cannot trust him, Khara,” he said curtly, his expression souring. Though he had lacked any memory of his former life when he entered the Elysian Fields, it now seemed almost fully restored. Except for the day following my departure. “I know what he did . . . how he nearly damned your soul.”

  “He did.”

  “He betrayed us.”

  “He did.”

  “Then how, Khara, can you align yourself with someone you know will only do the same to you again? It’s only a question of time.”

  “He seems to have a vested interest in my well-being,” I told him, keeping my answer vague. I did not wish to upset him by sharing the depths of Oz’s bizarre obsession. An obsession that even I did not yet understand.

  I only knew that a small, carnal part of me enjoyed it.

  “Oz is vested in himself. Do not let him fool you.”

  “He does not, Drew. I see him for what he is, but you must trust my judgment. If he has plans to betray me, then they are unlikely to transpire during my time down here. For now, all is well.”

  “Until it isn’t,” he replied caustically.

  His statement was true enough. Nothing was certain until I knew precisely what Oz had planned for me. Claiming that I was his could have been little more than a ruse—a way to capitalize on whatever ties bound us.

  “Drew,” I said warmly, directing the conversation back to my original purpose. Now that he seemed to remember his former life, I thought it best to put forth my offer. “I came here to tell you something. I have a possibility that I wanted to raise with you.”

  “What is it?”

  “If there were a way to return you to Detroit and have you resume your life there, working for the PC, would you take it even if its failure would result in eternal damnation?”

  He eyed me tightly.

  “Is that not where I am now? With the damned?”

  “The Elysian Fields are reserved for the noblest souls residing in the Underworld. You will find that it is filled with many warriors, both PC and otherwise,” I replied, keeping my tone e
ven, my expression soft. “There are other realms here that one would never willingly enter nor wish to be condemned to. Where the worst of the world have been relegated to in death. That is where you would be sent, should this plan fall short of success. Hades seems to think that failure is precisely what will happen if we attempt this, but I am less convinced. So I am bringing this to you for your consideration. If there is even the most remote chance that I could see you freed of this place, then I would very much like to see that plan through. But the decision is yours to make, and you should weigh it heavily. The Fields of Oudeis would be your soul’s undoing, of that I am certain.”

  “Who would be responsible for sending me back? You or Hades?” he asked plainly.

  “Hades.”

  “And you trust him?”

  “Implicitly.”

  “Has he done this before?”

  “No. Regretfully, he has not. It is an ability he has always had—to send worthy souls back to their former lives—but he has never seen fit to invoke the magic before. He hasn’t deemed any other soul pure enough.”

  “Why me?” he asked, a solemn tone overtaking his voice.

  “Because I vouched for you. I do not believe you belong here, for I have never known a warrior nobler than you. Not even Kierson possesses such an inherently strong moral compass as you do.”

  He thought for a moment, then laughed aloud.

  “Not when it comes to monogamy, that’s for sure.”

  “Indeed,” I agreed with a hint of a smile that faded far too quickly. “Please think about all I have told you. You need not answer yet. I will come back to receive your reply.”

  “I’ll do—”

  “No!” I interrupted, staving off his reply with my outstretched palm. “I know what you wish to tell me now. I told Hades it was what you would do, but I implore you to fully consider the weight of this decision. My father is convinced we will fail, and I fear that the blame would be on me that your soul was forever lost to the nothingness of the Oudeis. That is an unacceptable fate to me on myriad levels.”

  “Okay,” he replied softly, taking my hand in his. “I will give this decision the consideration you feel it deserves. When you return, I will give you an answer.”