by Kara Jaynes
“Put me down!” I arched my back, trying to slip away.
His grip tightened.
“No!”
The nursery door slammed open.
Rippling waves of darkness, edged with red, mixed with flickering light as it rose in my vision.
The man dropped me with a scream. Or maybe the roar was my own. I couldn’t tell.
I leaped to my feet. I was four, still a baby. I ran as sobs choked my throat. I needed to get away. “Momma!” I cried. “Momma!”
I didn’t look back. What if the man tried to grab me again?
Blackness obscured my vision. I’d lost count how many times the dark waves had come. I was struck with the sense of passing time. When I could see again, I was standing outside of my parents’ bedroom. How many times had my feet led me here, when I had a bad dream, or the nights had suffocated me with fear? Sometimes, just because I wanted to be with them.
The door was ajar. I peered through, putting my small child’s hand on the frame as I looked. My parents were in there, my father pacing the room, running a hand through his dark hair.
My mother was huddled on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, her face red and splotchy from crying.
“How could this happen to us?” she mumbled, not bothering to brush away the tendrils of hair that hung in her face. “We’re righteous people. We’re the voice of the Chosen. Why were we cursed with a rift child?”
I tilted my head. Who were they talking about?
Father sighed and paused in his pacing to look at my mother. Weariness hung over him like a cloud. “I’ve sent for a witch. She’s going to place a web of enchantment over her. I’ve heard of such spells. Our daughter won’t be able to work enchantment while the web is in place, and if it weakens, it’s simply a matter of placing a new spell on her. She might be a rift child, but no one will know, not even Glacia.”
“Or we could just drown her and be done with it,” Mother mumbled. “Keeping her will make us no better than her. We can’t shelter a rift child. Our people will reject us.”
“Our people don’t have to know,” my father said quietly. “This is our secret, my love. As rulers of the Chosen, it is our responsibility to bear this.”
“What if we can’t produce another heir?” My mother’s voice took on a tinge of despair. “What if we can’t keep her magic at bay?”
Father frowned at her, and I flinched. I knew that stern look, though this was the first time I’d seen him direct it at Mother. “We will keep it at bay. Maybe you don’t care for your daughter anymore, but I still do.” His voice turned calculating, and he rubbed his chin. “And more importantly, if she is a rift child, what does that say about us? People will think our family has cursed blood.” He shook his head. “No, we’ll have to keep her hidden from the world, but it’ll be for her own good. We’ll have Nanny keep watch on her ability, and as long as it doesn’t resurface, nothing will come of it. We are the Head Crowns. We watch over all of our people.”
Mother was already shaking her head. “She’s marked. The demons have already claimed her as one of their own.” She shuddered. “If only she had shown this sooner.” She looked up at her husband, her eyes glowing with a feverish light. “The people would see her dead, you know they would.”
“So what if she’s marked?” Father shot back. “We don’t believe in fate, in set destinies. We carve our own fate, dearest. You know this.” He was breathing heavily, as if trying to hold back emotion. He was angry. I could see it in his clenched jaw, in the tendons standing out on the backs of his hands, fingers curled into fists. “We can’t throw away our only child. Our only heir. We’ll have her taught the way of things.”
Mother laughed. “A pig would make a more suitable ruler than that thing.” Her face crumpled and she burst into tears, burying her face in a pillow. “Why did this happen to me?” she sobbed. “Why-why-why?”
“Sweetheart.” Father’s voice softened as he crossed the room to sit beside her. He ran his fingers through her hair. “Dearest one. It won’t be as bad as all of that. We’ll be all right.”
Mother’s voice was muffled, but her words gripped my heart, freezing it. “She’s dead to me,” she growled. “I hate her.”
No. I had done something wrong. What? What had I done? I pushed the door open and toddled in. “Mommy?” I walked up to the bed, peering up over the edge of it. My small, pudgy hands gripped the sheet. “Mommy, why are you crying?” I didn’t want her to feel sad.
“Get out of here!” Mother snarled, her face streaked with tears, hair wild about her face. “Get out, you wicked little beast, go!”
I began to cry. I’d done something wrong. Mother scared me, and I was bad. I’d done something naughty.
Father scooped me up in his arms, and carried me out.
“If you love me at all, I won’t see her ever again!” Mother shrieked.
Father took me out and closed the door behind us. I shuddered and clung to him, tears still trickling down my face. I was a naughty girl.
Father carried me to my room and set me down. His eyes were solemn, and that frightened me more than Mother’s screams. “Daddy?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Glacia.” He inhaled deeply and released it. His gaze hardened and his straightened to his full height. “Little one.”
He’d never called me that before. I’d always been Glacia.
“Daddy?” I called.
He shook his head and put a finger to his lips.
I nodded, eager to please him, and wiped my tears away, willing my shuddering sobs to a halt.
An hour later, a servant came to tend to me. I waited patiently for my father and mother to come to me.
They never did.
I wouldn’t see them again for twelve years.
29
Silvan
There. The last magical threads lifted and fell away from Elymas’s mansion. The fog still drifted, illusions still wandered, but I would deal with that later. It was time to end this.
I approached the door, gathering all my rage, hurt, and energy. That door was going down. I was done with Elymas’s twisted game. I could sense lesser magical barriers, set all over the door, but it wasn’t going to be enough to stop me, now that the stronger threads were gone. Now that I was angry. Running at the door, I leaped into a powerful sidekick, and smashed the door off its hinges. Magic crackled along the empty frame.
It was still dark, but dawn was in the air. Walking inside the entry, I saw that the room beyond had been woven with shadow, like a spider web, making it completely and utterly dark. I snickered as I stepped inside. Petty illusions weren’t going to be enough to hide Elymas. I might have felt a shred of pity if he hadn’t kidnapped Glacia. Any pleas for mercy would be wasted on me.
I raised my hand, pure light streaming from it, and banished the darkness to reveal an empty room beyond the entry. The tiles were worn and cracked, and the walls had damp mold creeping up the sides.
Very unimpressive in reality. Trust Elymas to shroud the place in grand illusions to pretty the place up. That would certainly be cheaper, if you had the energy to expend. How was Elymas getting so much power?
Kali stuck to my side like glue. Her eyes were wide, her breath coming quick. Her body was tense, like she expected something to jump out at her.
I walked into what would be the main greeting area of the house, a circular staircase winding up to the second level. Upstairs seemed to be the most likely place to start, and I took the stairs two at a time, Kali scrambling behind me.
I was astounded by the amount of illusion and deception Elymas had put into this place. A dragon burst out of one of the closets, causing me to shout and transform myself, nearly squashing Kali. When I’d realized that it was papers and silks strung together and covered with a web of magic, I’d torn it to shreds with my claws, then switched back to my human form. A wave of tiredness washed over me, but I ignored it. I’d have to be careful to only shift when I faced a true danger.
/> “You didn’t tell me you were a dragon,” Kali whimpered. “The world doesn’t make much sense right now.”
“We can agree on that,” I growled, striding past her.
Searching upstairs provided me with nothing. No Elymas, and no Glacia.
I thundered back down the stairs, my anger rising. When I found the mage, I was going to ring his skinny neck and—
Skidding to a halt in the entry, I almost tripped over a prairie wolf that stood by the door, looking at me with solemn amber eyes. It was bigger than most I’d seen, and it waved its tail, whining softly.
I studied it with narrowed eyes. “Are you another one of Elymas’s experiments?
The prairie wolf nodded its head in a manner that was too eager for the movement to be a coincidence.
I didn’t doubt the animal. “Show me where I can find him.”
The beast whined, and its tail drooped.
“Hmm.” Either it didn’t know where Elymas was, or it couldn’t tell me where he was.
“I’m looking for a girl,” I said instead. “A girl with blonde hair and gray eyes. She’s my age.”
The wolf-dog barked, and its tail began to wag furiously. It turned around, peering over its shoulder at me.
Definitely a signal to follow.
Together we bounded down a side passage that, in my haste, I’d missed earlier. It led to a hallway. I sensed the illusion almost as soon as I stepped into the corridor. To the naked eye the hall appeared to stretch on forever, and if I couldn’t see the lines of enchantment, I might have walked on forever, trapped in the circular hallway. I reached out and tore the carefully placed magic from the walls.
Before me, off to my left, stood a small door.
A trickle of foreboding ran down my spine as I approached it, and I noticed the prairie wolf hung back by my heels, its ears laid flat against its skull as it watched the door nervously.
“Maybe it’s just me,” Kali said, her voice tight with nerves, “but I’m getting this feeling that there’s something awful behind that door.”
I glanced at the prairie wolf. “I take it I have to go through that door to find the girl, don’t I?”
The wolf-dog nodded, its tail tucked between its legs.
I heaved a deep breath. Nothing for it, then. Where Glacia went, I went. I strode to the door and, opening it, went through.
I stumbled to a halt, staring at the figure who stood in the hall before me, my heart pounding in my chest. It couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real. But it wasn’t an illusion, I knew that much. I couldn’t see any threads of enchantment that indicated deception. It appeared that the man standing before me was as real as me.
Terror and grief clogged my throat, my heart hammering painfully. My instinct was to cower on the floor and beg for mercy and forgiveness.
When I spoke, my voice was a strangled whisper.
“Master.”
30
Glacia
I wandered a dark road. I’d lost all sense of time and place. Memories began to drift, and I had a difficult time remembering which ones belonged to me, and which ones didn’t. Or maybe all of them had belonged to me. Or maybe none at all. A lonely girl, who had no future. A forgotten princess, locked away for all of eternity.
Was I dead? Perhaps I was merely a specter, wandering aimlessly down nameless roads, observing other people’s lives.
After a time, I remembered a few things. My name was Glacia. I could recall that much. I was a girl who was being punished for my pride. But what I had done, I couldn’t remember.
And I’d lost something. No, someone. Someone so dear to me, the loss should make me weep. I couldn't remember. I needed to. It was very important.
Darkness swirled about me, the blackness shifting from dark gray to the inky color of midnight, and back again.
Sometimes I saw faces hanging like pale moons in the night. Some were expressionless, staring. Others had faces contorted in terrible agony or grief. All had the same, hopeless, dead eyes.
A small part of my mind told me I should be one of those faces, helpless and afraid, but I wasn’t. I felt hollow, like I’d never feel anything ever again. There was nothing to break.
Child. A harsh voice whispered through the nothingness. I’ve been searching for you.
A woman materialized to stand in front of me, red lips curved in a dead-white face.
I paused, observing her. A small part of me curdled with dread. I’d seen this woman before, but she hadn’t looked like this. What had she looked like?
“Why?” I asked.
Because you are mine. I claimed you.
I remembered. “You’re a demon,” I said.
The woman laughed soundlessly, and the dread intensified. Her face blurred, as if several faces were layered on top of each other, before the faces faded to be replaced with the same, ghostly woman. ‘Demon’ is the name given us by those who don’t understand us. Those who are afraid of power. Those who don’t make and seize opportunity at whatever cost.
I looked around, the darkness drifting about me, shifting in different intensities of black. It reminded me of fog. And fog reminded me of . . . what?
“Where am I?” I asked, still watching the shifting blackness.
This is the Rift. It is my kingdom. The face shifted again, a stack of transparent faces. Our kingdom.
I took a step backward, my unease growing. “What is the Rift?”
A dimension, child. It is the home of dark fae, depraved, lost souls, and us. Rift children.
“I’m a rift child.” It wasn’t a question. I knew. Wherever I was, being here had somehow dredged up my memories. I heaved a sigh. My memories. I was a rift child. That was why my parents abandoned me, only bringing me back to society when it became obvious there wouldn’t be another heir. After my magic stayed dormant under a spell for years.
The woman watched me, her eyes narrowed to slits. They were completely black, and it made her face look like a mask. She tilted her head, as if listening for something. He comes for you. A pity. He will try to hold you back, to make you less than you are.
“Who?” I asked. I shook my head. I remembered something. A stag, with large brown eyes. Except he was supposed to be a human boy, not a stag.
The dragonblessed. The woman’s red lips twisted. You are strong, child, but you are the starlight to his sun. You cannot compare to his brilliance. She laughed silently again, her mouth gaping in a grin, the ends of her teeth, pointed. Unless you claim your power. And his.
“I have magic.” I smiled, remembering. “I have enchantment now.”
But you have not claimed your true power. Your rift power. Let me help you. She held out a disembodied hand, and I flinched, seeing the fish-white fingers reaching for me. Let me help you. All you must do is submit.
Submit.
Submit.
The words rang in my head, and I stopped my ears, trying to keep out the sound. But it was inside my head. I couldn’t stop it.
“Glacia.”
The voice shattered through the demon’s force, and the woman staggered back. Face twisting with fury, she glared at me before her features smoothed again. She smiled.
How romantic. Your hero draws close. Ah, well. I have time. I can wait. In less than the blink of an eye she’d closed the distance between us, and stroked my face with her dead fingers. I can wait.
For one, horrible second, her form was a huge, towering black figure, and in that moment, I knew her.
This was one of the demons who’d destroyed my home. Silvan’s home.
Silvan! He was coming for me. His presence drew closer. But how could that be? I was here in the Rift.
Open your eyes. The demon was in female form again and smiled as its face become several at once, transparent masks of horror and despair. I can wait. It disappeared in a swirl of dark mist.
My body was confined. Imprisoned. But where?
Before I even opened my eyes, I remembered.
I was in a glass co
ffin.
31
Silvan
“Master,” I choked. Tears blurred my vision. I took a couple of steps forward before my strength gave out. Dropping to my hands and knees, I lowered my head. “Please. Forgive me.” How had he survived? Had any of my brothers?
Master glided from the shadows, and my heart quailed under his pale, gaunt face. His body was just as crushed and broken as it was when I’d found him, weeks ago. His eyes were glazed over, and the hands reaching out for me were crusted over with dried blood.
He was dead.
I couldn’t move, frozen with horror at seeing my Master dead, all over again.
Because of me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
Master’s face contorted. “You betrayed me.”
“Get away!” Kali leaped in front of me, and dropped a glass bottle. It shattered, pure light streaming from it in a blaze of brilliance before fading away. I blinked, trying to adjust my vision.
Master was gone.
“He wasn’t an illusion,” I said, my voice still quavering. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if a girl saw my weakness. I was too unnerved and overwhelmed to care. “How did you—” My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. “What did you do?”
“It was a counterspell.” Kali eyed the broken glass with a grimace. “My aunt is going to be furious. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it.” She frowned at me. “You owe me.”
“A counterspell for what?” I glanced around, my skin prickling with fear. I was shaking.
“No idea.” Kali shrugged. “Let’s keep going. I want to find Taloos and make some tracks. Don’t fancy staying in this place any longer than I have to.”
Scrambling to my feet, I looked around. I didn’t see any illusions in this room. Just dust in the corners, and peeling paint on the walls. Elymas hadn’t bothered prettying it up with illusions, like the rest of his home. What had I seen, if it wasn’t Master?
I desperately hoped it hadn’t been him.
The prairie wolf slinked by me and trotted to the far side of the room. It was there that I noticed a set of narrow stairs going down. Down into shadow.