by Sadie Moss
They seem to have it well in hand, so I jump in to help Echo. He’s managed to take the creature he’s fighting to the ground and get its feet tied up so it can’t move, but the heavy beast is splayed across his lower half, effectively pinning him in place. I fashion my net again and toss it over the thing’s head to drag it off Echo. My muscles bunch and ache under the weight, but I get it away from Echo before it can do any damage. It snarls and snaps the whole way, trying to lunge at me as I walk backward, tugging it along.
I silence that nonsense with a sharp tug on the weave.
Echo and I turn in time to see Paris employ the new little slicing trick I’ve learned. Except he’s very close to the beast, and while it does eviscerate the creature, the motion also covers Paris in thick, yellow blood.
“Oh, are you—? Farsing piece of—” He swipes at the goo on his face and then gives the felled monster’s body a swift kick.
Echo laughs, and Callum just grunts as they all come to join me. When Paris sidles up beside me, he’s still wiping dark yellow blood from his body, and the stench is overwhelming.
“We need to find weapons. Or make weapons,” I say, shoving my hair out of my eyes. The battle didn’t take long, but using that super strong weave has left me feeling worn down and strangely jittery at the same time, as if I’ve stood too close to a bolt of lightning. “If we have to use the weave every time we come across dangerous wildlife, it’s going to—”
I cut off at a strange hissing sound, as if someone is letting out a big breath. But all three of my men are watching me intently, their lips closed.
I glance at the three beasts that lie dead on the ground, wondering if we’re in some strange realm where death doesn’t stick, and they’re about to stand up and strike us again.
Thankfully, they’re all still resting on the dirt, but something is happening.
The beast closest to me seems to be… melting. Disintegrating before my eyes, its skin and fur sloughing off and its bones crumpling inward. Then the other two begin to do the same, crumpling in and fading into the ground until nothing is left but a thick yellow ooze that slowly sinks into the ground. Within less than a minute, the beasts are all gone. Not a trace left of their bodies—no bones, no skin, no blood.
As if they never existed at all.
“They returned to the earth,” Paris says, coming to stand beside me. He’s managed to wipe most of the blood off his face, though he’s still grimacing with distaste.
I nod. “The way animals on earth die and then are reclaimed by the earth.”
“Only on a much faster timeline,” Echo adds from behind us. “It’s incredible.”
“Yes. It is oddly beautiful.” I chew my lip, staring at the pristine ground. Then I look at the wet stains that still decorate Paris’s clothes and grin. “Too bad the blood didn’t just vanish like the bones.”
“Yes, too bad.” The blond messenger makes a face. Then he nudges me with his shoulder. “You all right?”
I nod, lifting my fingers. “I’m well. But I still feel like I’m touching the weave, even though it’s been minutes since I last used it.”
“You wielded it like you owned it,” Paris says, grinning. There’s a hint of pride in his gaze as he leans in to kiss me, careful to keep his dirty clothes away from my dress.
A warm glow suffuses me as our lips meet, and I sink into his kiss and his approval. Fighting with the weave did feel almost frighteningly intense, but knowing he thinks I did a good job goes a long way toward easing the weariness that came after we won the battle.
A shadow falls over us, and I open my eyes as I break the kiss, expecting Callum to have drawn up beside us. But the shadow isn’t just slanted over Paris and me—it’s over everything.
I pull away from Paris’s arms and glance around, confused. The shadow is growing darker even as I search for its source. Then Paris tugs on my arm and points at the sky.
“Up above. Look.”
One of the moons has begun to drift in front of the sun, eclipsing the light. I watch, utterly fascinated, as the moon turns into a black disc in front of the sun’s brilliant globe. It’s moving quite slowly, but every fraction of an inch is yet more darkness dashed across the landscape. I imagine when it covers the sun completely, the realm will turn as dark as night.
“Should we get moving?” Echo asks, directing his question to Callum. “I’d hate to get caught unaware out here by more beasts while the world is in shadow.”
“And while we have no weapons,” Paris adds, his attention still on the eclipse.
Callum’s steady green gaze catches mine and he asks, “Did the madman give you any idea of where we should travel to find this Weaver?”
“The madman said a lot of things,” I say with a sigh. “Most of which made no sense at all.”
I think back to those dark moments in my cell, listening to the ruined man and his wild ravings. I knew less at that time about what we would be walking into here when we arrived, but even knowing what I do now, nothing he said makes any sense at all. “He said something about fighting our way to the Court of Ancient Power. But he really didn’t give me any indication of a direction—or even what to expect when we got here. The poor man was out of his mind.”
“What does your intuition tell you?” Echo asks, his fingertips brushing my hair away from my neck. “There is no wrong answer, little soul. We just need to decide which way to go.”
It’s only as his fingers cool my skin that I realize how warm it is here. The air itself seems hotter, as if it’s kept warm by the powerful magic that suffuses the atmosphere.
“Let’s go that way,” I say, pointing toward the horizon to my left. “The beasts came from that direction. So if anything, we know if we walk that way, we’ll find life.”
12
The slow eclipse continues until eventually the sun is firmly hidden behind the moon as we venture into the unknown landscape.
We have no idea where to go, only a vague sense of direction, which means it’s unsafe for us to use the weave to travel. Especially given just how strong the magic is here—traveling via the weave might send us off into space to join the five moons. Plus, we don’t know where we’re headed, which would make weave travel that much more dangerous for us.
The realm is cast in a night-like haze from the hidden sun, making travel not so much difficult as it is dangerous. All of us keep our sharp gazes trained on the surrounding landscape, looking for more beasts or threats, though all is still for the moment. The landscape changes constantly, just as it does in the Unclaimed Expanse. One moment, I’m looking at a long, craggy mountain range on the horizon; then I blink, and it changes to a lush forest and a sky full of stars.
Changing landscape aside, the place is beautiful and wild in a way that outshines even the Unclaimed Expanse. Everything, even recognizable objects like rocks and trees, looks slightly foreign. It’s as if we’re walking across another planet entirely.
I’m lost in worries over how we’re going to get back to earth—if we even can—when the ground suddenly changes right in front of me. What was hard-packed dirt speckled by rocks is replaced by a sand-like substance and a steep hill that pitches down ahead of me. I don’t notice the change until I’m already stepping into the sand, but I quickly yank my foot away and step backward to assess the situation.
Echo isn’t so lucky. He was a few steps ahead of me, and the change has placed him directly in the sand. I hold my breath as I watch him swing his arms out to his sides for balance. He gazes down at the sand, testing the solidity with one foot.
Callum stands beside me, one hand hovering where his sword’s hilt should be as if by habit. “Brother?”
“It appears safe,” Echo calls over his shoulder, still holding the same position. He takes a tentative step forward—and falls into the shifting sand, sinking up to his elbows in the granules. He freezes, holding his hands over his head. “Disregard! Not safe.”
“Quicksand?” Paris asks, looking at Callum.
“No, I don’t think so. He’s not sinking any deeper. Pockets of some kind, perhaps.” Callum grabs the weave and begins twisting together a rescue rope. “We have no way of knowing what’s under the sand, however. Deeper pockets that could suffocate us, or even creatures that could eat us. I doubt it’s safe to continue this way.”
“We’ll have to go around,” I say, pointing at the rocky soil that creeps around the edge of the massive sandpit.
Callum tosses his weave rope, and Echo grabs hold. While Callum and Paris heave him from the sand, I stand by the edge of the pit, waiting until he’s close enough that I can grab his hands.
Finally, he collapses on the ground beside me with a grin. “Well. That was fun.”
The moon finally begins to creep away from the sun, shedding more light on the world around us. I help Echo to his feet, and we all take a moment to appreciate the beauty of the moon’s dark disc sliding away from the sun’s light. Then we forge ahead, changing our path to go around the sandpit.
This is how we travel for some time, adapting to the ever-shifting landscape and facing any new threats as they come. We’re lucky enough to avoid the attention of any strange beasts, but it often feels like the land itself is just as dangerous as anything with fangs and claws.
Time passes, though it’s hard to track here. Each moon takes a turn in eclipsing the sun, while the sun doesn’t seem to move at all. It remains firmly planted at the same point high in the sky. We become familiar with the moons’ patterns though, and eventually figure out that the largest of them takes the longest to traverse across the sun. We use this period to sleep in the night-like conditions.
On our fourth “night” in the realm, we find a small cave for shelter and lie together on the barren ground. I curl up in Callum’s arms, my fingers entwined with Echo’s while Paris takes first watch.
All the walking and constantly being on edge in the face of danger has worn me down, and I fall asleep immediately.
I’m in the dungeon in Kaius’s palace. My cell is exactly as I remember it—I swear I can even feel the cold wind coming in through the barred window and the damp stones cutting into me through my dress. I’m sitting on the floor, and I’ve just yanked the brick from the wall, while the madman raves in the cell next door. I pull the brick into my lap, ready to go lie against the wall and enact my plan. Lure the guard in, bash him with the brick, get the keys, and get out.
But then my ears pick up on what the raving man is muttering.
“The place where the moon goes down,” he says with sing-song cadence, the words all coming out in a rush so that they blend together. “Down, down, down to where all magic lies. The Weaver reigns where the magic lies.”
I pause, the brick heavy against my leg and the madman’s words echoing in my mind. I’m fairly certain I didn’t hear him say this when I was in the dungeon. He said a lot of strange things, but not this. Although I have to admit to myself that when I was focused on pulling that brick from the wall, I blocked out almost everything else.
Suddenly, the scene changes. I’m no longer on the floor holding the brick but running through the corridors with the guard’s key as I peer frantically into cells searching for my men. I recognize that the next cell is where Callum waits for me, and relief rushes through me as I round the edge of the barred door. I note too late that the cell door is standing wide open, and a split second later, I realize Callum and I aren’t alone.
Kaius stands over Callum, a vicious dagger held in the god’s right hand. Blood stains the blade and drips from the pointed tip onto the dirty stones. Callum’s beautiful green eyes are wide and unseeing as his life’s blood spills from his body onto the dungeon floor.
I try to scream, but the sound sticks in my throat.
It’s too late to save him. Callum is gone.
I have to get the others. To free them before Kaius kills them too.
Turning, I race away from the dark tableau, seeking Echo’s cell nearby. But when I reach him, I find that the vicious god has arrived first, and Echo is already gone.
Dead.
“No. No. No,” I mutter, the sound broken and weak.
Panic and fear war within me, and I back away from Kaius’s leering, maniacal grin. My heart beats faster, feeling as if it might explode from my chest. Something tells me I need to get to Paris, and I sprint away from Echo’s dead gaze, racing as fast as I can to my last messenger’s cell.
My feet slip on the damp stone floor as I launch myself around the corner and into the dungeon cell.
But once again, I’m too late.
Just as I enter the room, Kaius’s dagger tears through Paris’s throat, and a delicate spray of blood arcs from his beautiful skin. His blue eyes plead with me as he collapses to the floor, the light inside him snuffing out before he hits the stones.
Everything in me dies with him.
Rage boils up inside me, and I scream until my throat turns raw. I let all my pain and fury coalesce into a primal shriek, then I leap across the cell, my fingers curved like claws.
I’ll rip the eyes from Kaius’s head.
I’ll tear the skin from his bones.
I’ll destroy him for taking them from me.
But the god snatches at the air with a gleeful laugh, and his magic winds around me in mid-leap. I fall to the floor, my momentum stopped by his bindings, though I struggle against them, still fueled by my hate.
The sharp-faced, arrogant god approaches me, his grin a slash of mocking white on his face. “You aren’t so strong without the messengers, are you, little soul?”
I scream again, my heart torn into pieces by the nickname falling so easily from his lips. He has no right to call me that. I buck wildly on the hard stones, trying to find any opening in the weave that binds me, any soft spot where I might get a grip on the magic and rip it away.
But there is none.
Kaius kneels beside me, a sneer curling up the corner of his lips. He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re filthy with love, you pathetic soul. You reek of it. As long as you love, you’ll always be weak.”
Then he reaches for the weave again.
And this time, I know he’s going to kill me.
13
I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to watch Kaius end my life—extinguish my very existence. With the last of my strength, I conjure up an image of Callum’s face.
Echo’s.
Paris’s.
At least I was able to love them, if only for a short time.
“Sage!” a gruff voice says.
Startled, I open my eyes. I’m no longer at Kaius’s mercy, nor am I on the floor of his dungeon. I’m back on the ground in the third realm. I jolt fully awake, recognizing that I just had a nightmare at the same moment I realize debris is whipping around the cave. It’s as if a funnel cloud has manifested right in the cave with us, which wouldn’t be out of the norm for a strange world with shifting lands and odd weather patterns.
But I know innately that it’s not strange weather causing this. It’s me reacting to the stress of my nightmare, exactly as I did during the first night I spent at the messengers’ house.
Paris stands over me, his hands raised as he uses the weave to keep the swiftly moving rocks and dirt from hitting us, while Callum and Echo sit on either side of me. Callum’s strong hands are wrapped around my wrists.
“Wake up, Sage. Let it go,” Callum commands.
Something about his stern, powerful voice drags me from the last vestiges of the dream, and I burst into tears.
“You idiot,” Echo groans, wrapping his arms around me and gently turning me into his body. He speaks over my shoulder to Callum. “She had a nightmare. You can’t just tell her to ‘let it go.’”
Echo’s clove and plum scent surrounds me, and I cling to it, burying my face in his chest as I fight through sobs I can’t control.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” But Callum’s voice softens, and his large hand
rubs slow circles on my back.
Between his warm touch and Echo’s arms around me, I start to feel a little more level-headed, though I still can’t stop the tears. The dream felt so real. Every moment was so vivid, as if I truly saw them dead, watched as Paris was murdered right before my eyes.
The whipping wind in the cave slowly dies down, and the crackle of the weave vanishes. Paris sits down beside Echo, his fingers brushing through my hair. The panic inside me that’s still clinging to the horrors of the dream begins to subside once they’re all three with me. All three alive and soothing me.
The dream was terrible, but now that I’m no longer in the grip of terror, I realize it showed me something very important.
These men are more than my soulkeepers.
So, so much more than that.
When I thought I had lost them, it wasn’t my soul that cried out in agony. It was my heart.
I gently push away from Echo’s hold, placing my hands on his chest as I look up into his dark eyes. He looks so worried, his gaze raking over me and his thumb brushing over the tears on my cheek.
“I love you.”
The words are rough, my voice husky from crying. Without waiting for him to reply, I lean in and kiss him, uncaring that I have tears on my lips. His hands come to rest on my hips, and just as he always does, he responds with a hunger that matches my own. Heat blossoms between us as our lips move together.
Before it can spiral out of control, I break away and turn to Paris. Though Echo still holds my hips, I clutch Paris’s shirt and pull him closer to me.
“I love you,” I tell him, then I kiss him too.
A pleased growl rolls from deep within his chest, and he nearly yanks me from Echo’s arms in his bid to get closer to me. I’m already lightheaded from Echo’s kiss, but Paris’s soft lips have turned that woozy feeling into deep, overwhelming desire. It takes effort to extract myself from his kiss and roaming hands, but I’m not done. There’s one more thing I have to do.
I turn on my knees to face Callum. He’s silent, his face expressionless but for a glint in his eyes that I can’t read.