by Rye Brewer
His eyes widened before he laughed. “How old do you think I am? I’m even younger than Sara. Nivia was born several millennia ago.”
“Oh. Of course.” I could’ve melted into the floor, I was so embarrassed. I wasn’t thinking clearly. “Do you know anything about her, though?”
For the first time, he seemed reluctant to share. “Nivia is a complicated subject for shades. What she did… It was forbidden, of course. So they struck her from our memories.”
I gasped. “They erased her?”
“In effect, yes. It was as if she never existed. I guarantee if you were to speak her name among a group of shades, they would act as though they’d never heard it before. Because, as far as they know, they haven’t.”
I didn’t know how that was possible, but there were so many things I didn’t understand. “Wait. You know who she is. How do you know when they don’t?”
Again, he hesitated before he answered. “Custodians study under other, older Custodians when they’re young. It so happened I studied under one who didn’t believe in withholding information because of petty politics. He was a purist. Even a bit of a rebel. He taught me everything he knew.”
“Wasn’t that dangerous?” I had the feeling shades were very serious—at least, they were if Allonic was an example.
And they had erased an entire existence because she went against their rules. Not exactly a fun bunch.
“Yes. It was dangerous. They executed him for his transgressions.”
I gasped—not just at what he said, but how he said it. Like he was only reporting a bit of news. Nothing more. Then again, he’d had plenty of time to get used to it.
I turned back to the sarcophagus and thought about Nivia and what it had taken for her to do what she did.
Of course, I hated her for taking over Mom’s body, but I felt sorry for her. A little. She loved Valerius so much she was willing to stop at nothing for him.
I touched the glass again and sighed. “They really have a love story, those two. Don’t they?”
“Love is for fools.”
I looked at him, surprised, and he was smiling smugly.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. Did we come all this way so you could quiz me? Or perhaps you wanted to have a tender, sentimental moment in which we talked about love.”
“I’ll thank you to drop your attitude,” I snarled.
So, he was like his sister, after all. I should’ve known.
“Well? Why are we here? You haven’t done anything yet to show me why I had to bring you here.”
“I came here because I wanted answers!”
“What answers? What questions?”
I threw my arms in the air. “What do you think? I want to know where they went—Nivia and Valerius. I want to know where I can find them!”
“Why would you come here? Do you think they created a map for you to find?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “There’s a simple answer to the question of where to find them. You’ve wasted my time and energy.”
I sputtered in surprise. “Don’t talk to me that way!”
“Oh, be quiet. If you had only asked if I had an idea of where Valerius went, I would’ve reminded you he named Lucian as the one who left him the way he was. He said he wanted revenge. Now, he’s in the body of Lucian’s son. Who better to approach Lucian without arousing suspicion? Add to that the fact he’s traveling with someone who resembles the woman Lucian was once in love with—the woman he lost to your father.”
I wanted to scream and maybe claw at his eyes for speaking to me as if I was a child, but I was too busy feeling dumbfounded.
“Why couldn’t you have simply told me that in the first place? It could’ve saved us a lot of time.”
He rolled his eyes. “You never told me why you wanted to come here, remember. My part of the bargain only entailed escorting you where you wanted to go.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Then take me to him. Please.”
16
Sara
I had experienced a lot of things. Chained up and tortured by Marcus. Chained up by a witch. Shooting lightning out of my hands. Finding out my mother was alive.
Even with all that, getting used to traveling via portal was something I didn’t think I would ever manage. Not that it was difficult—it almost felt like stepping through water, except there was no water on the other side. It was unnerving, going from one place to another like that, jumping into a totally new environment in the blink of an eye.
ShadesRealm was cool and breezy and beautiful, with the smell of fresh air and flowers everywhere. I stepped through the portal, and, all of a sudden, I was in the middle of one of those horror movies humans enjoyed so much. The ones that start on a dark and stormy night.
“What’s happening?” I yelled over a crack of thunder.
“Welcome to Hallowthorn Landing.” Sirene smiled as she raised a hood over her dark hair.
I wished I had one of those and a cloak to go with it—the sky was dark gray, bordering on black, as if it was ready to let go at any second and drench all of us.
Lightning streaked between the rolling clouds, occasionally carving its way down from the sky to the surface of the water, and another crack of thunder made me cover my ears.
We were on a port, standing on a sidewalk made of wooden planks. There were docks up and down the plank sidewalk and boats tied there. They rose and fell on the choppy, storm-whipped ocean waters. Beyond the port was a series of sharp, jutting rocks for waves to crash against.
I wondered how many boats had crashed against those rocks.
There was a town behind me and to the sides and beyond that were huge, ominous mountains with rocky ledges—I could see them outlined against the bolts of lightning.
A chill went down my spine as I made out the tall, leafless trees lining the mountains. Their limbs were fingers pointed at the sky. The entire effect was eerie and unsettling.
“People live here?” I asked Sirene. I had to cup my hands around my mouth to be heard.
“Of course. It isn’t always like this.” She patted my arm. “Come. We’ll go to the fortress.”
“Fortress?” I mouthed to Mom, who shrugged.
I glanced in the direction Sirene was leading us and saw what she was talking about—carved into the side of the nearest mountain was a series of fortress castles that loomed over the rest of the town. They each stretched maybe a hundred feet up and were covered in narrow windows that let light shine through, making it look like the mountains themselves were lit from the inside. Who could’ve carved them? How long had it taken? Was it magic?
Sirene pointed to the fortress on the end, almost hanging over the water. “If it’s possible to help you, if not reverse your condition, the person who can do it for you is right there.”
“And that’s where we’re going?” I asked.
I didn’t know how to tell her I wasn’t sure I wanted it reversed. Once I had it controlled, I wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone or anything again. That would be a nice change.
“It is.” She gave me a reassuring smile.
I didn’t feel so sure. In fact, I shuddered at the thought of having to stay there. Yes, lights came from inside, but I couldn’t imagine living in a castle carved from stone. It had to be cold and damp in there, and there was no telling who else lived someplace like that.
“How long will I have to stay?” I asked with a shudder.
Nothing so far was the way I’d expected—not that I’d known what to expect.
The fact Sirene didn’t answer—all she did was smile the same smile—wasn’t helpful.
I glanced to Mom for a little assistance.
She only shrugged again and took my arm as we started to climb the series of stairs carved into the mountain. They were crumbling and slippery in the spray coming off the choppy ocean, and my feet slid more than once, but Mom bolstered me.
Once we came a little closer to the fortresses and I could make out det
ails, I noticed a large group of young people coming out of the fortress next to the one we headed for. They all wore dark cloaks and walked with their heads down and their hands drawn up into their long sleeves.
Sirene must have noticed the direction I was looking.
“They are students,” she explained, raising her melodic voice over the roaring surf.
“Students? Like me? Will I be training with them?”
She shook her head. “You’re a special case, what with your being half-vampire.”
A special case. More like a freak.
What would they think of me, if they ever even knew about me? No, they could never know. They were witches, and they would hate me.
I started to crackle and imagined myself shooting off lightning that would rival the bolts dipping down to kiss the ocean.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, clenching my fists tight and hoping I could keep things under control.
Mom slid an arm around me and squeezed.
That was answer enough, and it calmed me down. The crackling stopped. I reminded myself that was why I was here, so I could control myself. It made the looming, stone fortress that grew bigger and bigger the closer we came seem a little less scary.
We came to a huge wooden door fitted with iron spikes—I wondered who or what the people who owned these fortresses were trying to keep out.
I also questioned how we were supposed to announce our presence—Sirene’s tiny fist wouldn’t make a sound against the heavy door, no matter how hard she knocked.
As it turned out, it didn’t matter—the door creaked open as soon as we stepped up to it. It swung slowly on screaming, straining hinges that chilled me worse than the nonstop thunder and lightning.
I wasn’t hopeful about what we would find once we were inside, considering how foreboding the exterior was.
And I wasn’t too far off the mark—there were torches lit along the walls and iron chandeliers full of candles that dripped wax onto the stone floor, so the cavernous entry hall was well-lit, but I couldn’t help feeling like I had just stepped back into medieval times.
The tapestries on the walls were faded and worn, but I could make out the stories they told. Dragons and monsters and the powerful witches and wizards who’d defeated them.
Ships on the water, mountains—Hallowthorn Landing?—and a storm. What had happened during the storm that it deserved to be embroidered in a tapestry?
It was easier to ask myself questions than to imagine living in such a sparse, dank, ancient place.
On the other hand, Mom’s face glowed with enthusiasm and fascination. Her eyes sparkled the way they used to when I was young and times were good.
“Come. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Sirene sidestepped a glob of dripping wax as she showed us the way through the entry hall.
Our footsteps echoed off the stone floor, and I lifted my gaze at one point to see how high the ceiling was. I couldn’t make it out—it was so high, I couldn’t even see it. I tried to shake off the sensation of eyes watching me from up there in the shadows and told myself it was just nerves.
My thighs burned as we climbed yet another set of stone stairs—at least these were even and dry, not like the ones outside—until we reached the second floor.
The hallway stretched almost endlessly in both directions and the same torches dotted the walls. There was a plush, blood-red runner lining the hall and muffling our footsteps as Sirene led us past door after door.
I wondered who was behind those doors. Or what.
I realized we hadn’t seen anyone yet.
“Is this all right?” Why I whispered, I didn’t know. Maybe because I was still overwhelmed and more than a little scared.
“What do you mean?” She seemed to glide down the hall, she was so graceful and fluid.
“Is there anyone here? When they see us, will they get angry?”
“Oh, no, everything is all right. You don’t have to worry the way you did before.” She glanced at me over her shoulder, and I believed her. Something about her frank, honest eyes gave me faith.
We reached Mom’s room first—the bed looked like it had been carved hundreds and hundreds of years earlier and could’ve slept five or six without anybody touching.
Another intricately embroidered tapestry hung on the wall behind the head of the bed, and thick, faded curtains hung from the four posts.
“Sara, your room is the next one down—there’s a door connecting these two rooms, by the way.” Sirene showed me, opening a door carved into the wall to the left of a wide, deep fireplace.
My room was just like Mom’s, except the tapestry and color of the curtains hanging from the bed frame were different.
“I’ll take Sara from here,” Sirene announced in a soft-but-firm voice.
Mom got the message and went to warm her hands at the fire blazing in the hearth.
I swallowed back my fear as I continued down the hall, following Sirene past another dozen closed doors until we reached the end of the corridor. There was another door there, in front of us, and my heart raced faster than ever when Sirene opened it.
The first thing my eyes fell on was the view outside the glass doors at the opposite side of the room. From behind those doors, the storm clouds and lightning weren’t as threatening.
I could see the raging sea and jagged rocks—waves crashed against them and almost hypnotized me. I could’ve watched them all day and forgotten the reason I was here.
Sirene wouldn’t allow for that, of course.
“Wait here,” she instructed as she walked toward the door.
“What?” I felt the energy building inside me as my anxiety grew.
“You’ll be fine. Just relax and remember to listen to those helping you.” She left then, closing the door behind her.
“Terrific,” I whispered, glancing around.
I wondered if I should sit in one of the ornate wooden chairs along both walls. They were intricately carved with waves and birds and clouds, but appeared about as comfortable as the floor would’ve been.
The style of furniture made me think the fortress went back to the medieval era, or what the history books had taught us the medieval era looked like.
Hadn’t anybody ever thought about redecorating?
I turned my attention back to the glass double doors and stared out over the water. What was on the other side? Where was I in relation to the rest of the world? Was I in the human world anymore? Probably not—I had never heard of a place such as this, where fortresses were carved out of the mountainside.
The door opened again, and my stomach dropped.
I took a chance and turned to see who had come in.
A man. An absolutely gorgeous man.
My eyes went wide when I took in his jet-black hair, eyes resembling obsidian. He had a big, powerful body that moved with a cat’s grace as he went straight to one of the chairs and sat down.
He wore a black robe that matched his hair and eyes, and he arranged it around himself before turning his attention to me.
“Hi,” I whispered, then giggled nervously.
I had no idea what to think or how to act, or even who he was. The fact he didn’t reply wasn’t helpful.
His face never moved.
I turned away, facing the water, and willed myself not to pay attention to him.
Which was impossible.
It was his eyes—specifically, the way they bored holes into my back. I could feel him watching me and didn’t know why. It was creepy.
“Who are you? Do you live here?” I asked over my shoulder, wishing he would say something. Anything.
He didn’t answer.
My pulse raced. A flush crept over my skin. I felt my palms getting clammy.
“How long has this fortress been here? Do you know?” Still nothing.
I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself not to get upset, but it was too late. The surge of energy had already started, a tingling sensation began in my core and moved through my
arms.
Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let it get to you. Control this.
“Who are you?” I asked again.
When his silence was the only thing that greeted me, I turned to glare at him.
He had the same blank, unflinching expression on his face as he did before. As though I was an exhibit he was observing.
The tingling overwhelmed me, and, before I knew it, I lost control. Bolts of electricity shot toward him from the ends of my fingers.
I gasped in horror and wished I could take it back.
But he only smiled slightly then raised his hands before the bolts reached him. His reflexes were incredibly sharp.
Suddenly, a glittering opaque wall of ice appeared in front of him and blocked the bolts. I assumed they would hit the floor—instead, the ice wrapped around the bolts then vanished.
Just like that, it was the two of us again, and I was breathless with surprise.
“A toddler has better control than you.” His voice was deep, rich, and condescending.
Disgust with him and myself mingled and brought hot, angry tears to my eyes.
“You’re a jerk,” I growled.
My emotions roared and churned like the stormy ocean outside the doors, and the tingling didn’t go away.
It worsened.
He was right.
I couldn’t control myself. I was worthless. Dangerous. Useless.
In a last-ditch effort to get away from him and myself, and my situation, I flung the glass doors open and rushed out onto the balcony.
Instantly, the wind caught my hair and blew it around my face in a cloud. The crashing waves and roaring thunder mingled together and drowned out the racing of my heart.
Lightning flashed and danced—the sizzling bolts jumping from my fingertips were nothing in comparison. They dissipated in the gusts of wind, wind that carried salty spray up to my face to mix with the salty tears streaming down my cheeks.
It had started to rain, but the balcony over mine kept me mostly covered. Still, the ocean water in the air moistened my clothes and hair. It didn’t matter, even when the rain started coming down in curtains so hard it drowned out the sound of the thunder and crashing waves. I would’ve rather stood out here and drowned than go back inside to face him, whoever he was.