“Truer words were never spoken.” The moonbeam stone glowed a little brighter, reacting to my concern. We really shouldn’t have both come inside when the door yielded. What kind of a fool doesn’t think to keep one person outside in case the door—the mysterious door hidden deep within a forest—was enchanted?
“How can I be of assistance?” I asked, raising the stone to see his face more clearly. The smooth, rounded rock had been with me for years. A gift from a dear friend who existed on the other side of the veil.
“Watch.” He indicated a second door, barely visible, much like the first had been. Amir tried to grip the handle, the edges, and the hinges, but his fingers kept slipping, as though every part of it was two-dimensional, a reflection of reality without substance. “See? I can’t get a grip.” Worry lines stretched across the dark skin of his forehead.
The closer we’d gotten to our neighbouring kingdom, the more attuned to his emotions I had become. One hand on his hip. The other on the back of his neck. Sure signs that Amir was frustrated he’d been unable to solve the problem himself. It wasn’t arrogance or pride that drove his frustration, but rather a fierce independence he seemed desperate to cultivate. I couldn’t blame him. Amir was a prince. Very little of what happened in his life was of his own design. Though he was kind-hearted and, of course, wished to help free Aurora from the sleeping curse that kept her trapped, he’d looked so unhappy when his parents had first given him the ultimatum.
Rescue Aurora, marry her, and bring our kingdoms together, or no longer be a prince.
I was yet to discover exactly why he’d displayed such trepidation, but whatever it was he’d been feeling the day he’d been given his mission, it had only grown stronger since.
I nodded as I considered the doorway.
“Do you think you might be able to open it? You know, the not-so-old-fashioned way?” he said, planting his hands on his hips.
“I’m not sure.” I stepped closer, handing him the moonbeam stone. I could keep its glow alive while he held it, though it took more effort than I liked to expend for something as simple as a light.
Then again, not being stuck in a damp, humid room with no ventilation and no obvious escape route was also preferable. Especially when we were there to save someone likely to take Amir away from me. Every step we took felt like another step closer to destiny. To finding myself. To being happy. Because I was with him.
If he found Aurora—if he married her as he was bound to do—it would all disappear.
Get it together. Focus on the problem. Focus on the magic. Find a way through. I closed my eyes and looked toward the door with my second sight. The physical world and all of its distractions made it difficult to see what was really there.
“What’s it like? When you look at the world that way?” Amir’s voice was hollow and deep at the same time, as though he were speaking to me from the other end of a long tunnel.
He was distracting, but how could I deny him such a simple pleasure?
“It’s magnificent,” I replied. “The world appears to me in its true colours. Shades that are impossible to describe in our tongue.”
I smiled and concentrated on the door. There was nothing of note. The whole wall appeared uniform, consistent in texture, shade, and density. It was thicker than I’d realised. There was no way I could physically penetrate it, not without considerable help. The kind of help Amir was ill-equipped to provide.
“There’s no door there. Just a solid wall,” I said. “It’s an illusion. A sick joke left behind by the one who sealed the city.”
“To give hope to anyone who made it this far,” Amir said flatly. “A cruel joke, indeed.” His fear pulsated around the edges of his aura in hot orange bursts. Breathing deeply, he calmed himself and the flashes of light dissipated.
“Yes. This curse is a personal one,” I said. “The witch who cast it didn’t just want people to fail at rescuing Aurora. She wanted them to despair.” I turned in a circle, seeking out something, anything, that might be a way through. The door we’d used to enter was, at least, still viable. I could force it open with an incantation, but after how far we’d come and with how much pressure Amir was under to find Aurora, I had to do what I could to find a way forward.
Nothing. There was nothing. Not even a crack in the maddening black walls around us. Shaking my head, I opened my eyes.
The room felt even smaller than before. The air staler. Our breathing hotter and louder.
“What do we do?” Amir asked, rubbing his neck. He seemed calmer, his question one of practicality rather than a fearful reaction.
“May I have that back please?”
“Oh.” He looked down at the moonbeam stone. “Of course.” He handed it over, and the energy in my body increased. Only a slight boost to my stores, but still, given what I needed to do, a necessary one.
“I need to talk to Red.” I made my way to a corner of the room and sat down, tucking my legs beneath me.
“Red? Who—or what—is that?”
I smiled as I thought of my friend. Her penetrating light-brown eyes. The maturity and strength of her voice. The comforting warmth of her counsel. “Red has been with me, in one way or another, since I came of age.”
“She’s a spirit?”
I placed the moonbeam stone on my lap, its soft glow throwing shadows across the unforgiving stone walls. “Yes.”
“Someone who died?” Amir was always fascinated by the Other World. The place that all beings inevitably encountered. For many, that only occurred at the end of their life, when their body no longer tethered them to this realm. For people like me, whose bond had persisted beyond birth, there were times we existed between worlds. I didn’t like to force a complete crossing, though. It was not only dangerous, but painful.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “She may have lived and died. Or perhaps she’s yet to be born. She could be a guide, destined to never cross into our realm. I really don’t know.”
“She’s not very sociable? Didn’t provide her life, or death, story?”
“On the contrary, there have been times where she’s come to me for no reason other than to discuss all manner of topics. At those times, it requires no effort on my part to see her, to hear her.” I shifted my weight, trying in vain to ease the discomfort that came with kneeling on such a hard, uneven surface. “But she doesn’t know if she’s lived. If she’s died. She doesn’t even know if she has a name.”
Amir scoffed as he considered me. His chocolate-coloured eyes shimmered as they reflected the light of the moonbeam stone. “What kind of being doesn’t know her own name?”
“It’s not her fault.” Red had been with me for nearly fifteen years. When even my parents were gone, Red had been there, supporting me, demanding nothing in return. “She’s an energy. A life force without a home. I imagine you’d struggle to remember things if you were in the same position.”
His eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. Suddenly, I remembered who I was speaking to.
“Forgive me, Highness.” I looked down to avoid his gaze. I couldn’t be sure if my embarrassment was because I wanted, so badly, for him to see only the good in me, or because I knew I’d overstepped. I had no right to speak to the future king like that.
Amir stepped forward and knelt down in front of me. Taking my hand, he angled his head to force me to make eye contact. His eyes were kind. Sincere. Safe. “There’s nothing to forgive, Talia.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. I should have enjoyed the sensation, revelled in it even. But I was numb. Perhaps preparing myself for the taxing spell I knew I’d need to cast.
I cleared my throat and pulled my hand back. “Thank you,” I whispered. He backed away to the opposite wall. He leaned back and slid down into a lotus position.
“Do you need anything from me? To contact this energy?”
“No,” I replied, squaring my shoulders. “Just don’t interrupt. Even if you think I’ve lost consciousness, or it seems as though I’m talkin
g to myself, leave me be.”
“Understood.”
With that, I closed my eyes so I might better see the shadows that exist between the two worlds. I reached out toward the ethereal veil, the boundary around me like a damp web, a web I dared not touch without being invited to do so by one of the spirits. Not usually.
Red? Red, can you hear me? I need you. Please.
Chapter Two
NOTHING.
I’d hoped Red might hear me from this side, but it seemed I would have to reach further. I took a deep breath and straightened my spine. The back of my neck felt hot as I cast my energy forward once more, this time piercing the sticky web that acted as a warning to uninvited visitors. As the threads tore open, a shrill sound reverberated through my head. Another warning to keep out. I winced as I tried to shake it off, digging my fingernails into my palm. A trick my second tutor had taught me, it was a sensory distraction from the low-level attack on my consciousness. At that moment, I existed in two places. I was in the room with Amir, but part of me was elsewhere. Somewhere. Everywhere. Nowhere.
“What are you doing?” I sensed Red’s concern as she rushed toward me with the speed and ferocity of an eagle. Grabbing hold of my arms, she pushed me back through the veil, returning the wandering part of my soul to my body.
Amir sat in front of me, hands on my shoulders, shaking me gently as he called my name. His concern was both welcome and invasive. I wanted him to care. But I needed him to let things play out as was needed.
I gulped in the air as though I’d been holding my breath. My ribs ached. My chest heaved. Coming home after an astral projection through the veil felt like being resuscitated after drowning.
I shook my head as I struggled to speak. “Stop. I’m. Fine. Please.”
Reluctantly, Amir returned to the other side of the room.
I dropped my head back against the wall and clenched my eyes closed. Another pair of hands touched me. Red.
She had my face in her hands, stroking my cheeks with her thumbs as she soothed me. “Shh. You’re safe. You’re back.”
I nodded and concentrated on my breathing, on my heart rate. As my body adjusted to the reunion with my astral self, I opened my eyes. Red smiled at me sympathetically, her eyes widening as though she was happy to be with me again.
She’d come. She’d seen me the second I had stepped past the boundary and pulled me back through.
“Why would you do something so foolish?” She dropped her hands to my lap where they took hold of mine. A familiar, electric warmth rose through my arms, a tingling sensation that only came with being touched by a spirit I trusted.
My knees throbbed, so I repositioned myself, leaning back against the wall, while pulling my knees into my chest. Red sat beside me but kept hold of one of my hands.
“I had to,” I told her, turning my head to meet her gaze. It had been months since she’d come to see me. I’d forgotten how rich and deep the crimson tone of her hair was, the beauty of the thick curls that reached for her waist. I’d spent many years wishing she were alive, that she could exist on this side of the veil, with me. It took a long time to accept we lived in different worlds and any chance I had of a meaningful connection with another person could only be found in my own realm. Not that I had any more of a chance of being with Amir than I did with a ghost only I could see.
“Why, Talia?” Red asked. “Stepping through without an escort is unbelievably ill-advised. You scared me. What if someone else, something else, had reached you before I did?”
I rested my head back against the wall and bit my bottom lip. “But you did find me. Like you always do.”
She sighed, the worry lines on her forehead dissolving. She looked around, noticing Amir and the unfamiliar location. “What is this place? Who is he?”
Shifting my gaze, I saw Amir was both fascinated and uncomfortable. He could see me interacting with Red, but couldn’t see nor hear her. “His name is Amir. He has been charged by the queen and king of Grimvein, his parents, to rescue Aurora, the sleeping princess.”
“The sleeping princess?” Red’s features tightened. “What does that mean?”
Of course. In whatever state my friend existed between our interactions, she was likely unaware of what went on in the corporeal realm. Why would she know of the curse?
“Almost one hundred years ago, the rulers of Oldpass offended one of the great witches. They’d heard rumours that suggested the witch, Tanit, had died, and did not invite her to the royal princess’s first birthday.”
“Tanit? I feel like that name means something to me,” Red said, running her thumb across her jawline.
“Perhaps. She’s quite a powerful creature to have been able to cast a spell this strong.”
Red raised her eyebrows as her hand fell away from her face. “I can’t recall anything specific. Continue. I assume the young girl grew up and faced some sort of trouble?”
“Yes,” I replied. I only hoped she was worth finding and could in fact reawaken Oldpass and renew the alliance between our peoples. Otherwise, Amir and I were risking our lives—and our souls—for nothing. “Aurora. She was given many gifts by the other great witches at her first birthday celebration, but when Tanit arrived, she gave the child a darkness, an overpowering desire to touch the needle of a spinning wheel on her twenty-first birthday. In doing so, she’d initiate the sleeping curse. From what I understand, Tanit wanted her parents to suffer. It wasn’t really about Aurora. But twenty years of obsessive anxiety about the fate of your daughter? It was an effective revenge.”
“By the gods, that’s awful. Those poor people. Knowing that every single day brought your child closer to an early grave. I can’t imagine how dreadful that would feel. All because she wasn’t invited to a party? Truly?”
“There’s probably more to the story, but it’s shrouded in legend and that’s all I know. She wasn’t the only one sent into an eternal sleep. The whole city has been dormant. No one’s been able to find a way in, or if they have, they’ve never come out again.”
“But you’ve found a way?” she asked, her voice laced with both excitement and fear.
I nodded. I wanted to smile at her apparent fascination with the tale, but I couldn’t. No matter what happened, I would be alone at the end of the story. If we found her, Amir would have a bride. If we failed, well…then, we’d probably be dead.
“How can I help?” Red asked.
“We’ve found an entrance to a tunnel that leads under the siege wall and into the courtyard of Oldpass. But, as you can see, the way is blocked. I need to break through.”
“Then we better get started.”
I exhaled loudly and looked at the prince. Raising my eyebrow, I said, “She can help.”
“She’s really here? Right now?” Amir asked as he stood up, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Does she look like us?”
“Yes, and yes,” I replied. “Red will help me find a way past the wall.”
“That’s brilliant. Can you touch her? Is she opaque?”
I looked at Red, who raised one eyebrow in response to the prince’s curiosity. She was amused by his excitement. “She’s not transparent, Amir. I suppose she’s somehow…brighter than us. The colour of her hair, her eyes, her dress…it all shines like only things made of magic can.”
“And my other question?” He waved his hand through the air, encouraging me to elaborate.
Feeling Red’s attention on me, I smiled. “Yes, she can be touched,” I replied. Then, as I considered the question further, my smile faded. “But it’s much like interacting with someone in a dream. At the time, everything seems real, feels real. But when the dream has passed, you know for certain that—as sure as you may have been at the time—it never really happened.”
“How sad.” He sighed sympathetically. “For her, I mean.”
“Yes.” I hooked my thumb around my belt, searching the floor for a way to change the subject.
“What happens now?”
“Now,” Red said, “we work.”
“He can’t hear you, remember?”
“I know, I know.” She cocked her head to the side. “But I was feeling left out.” Red crossed her arms and grinned. “Ready?”
“I am. Amir, are you ready for us to begin?”
“Hmm? Need me to do anything? Or just stay out of the way again?”
“That’s probably for the best,” Red said.
“Yes, I agree with her.”
He looked confused at my words. The little creases between his eyebrows were sweet. Innocent, even. It must be quite marvellous to remain ignorant of the shadows that surround us. “Right. Sorry. My spirit friend says it’s best for you to stay back.”
“I may be accustomed to giving the orders most of the time, but I have no intention of disobeying some kind of powerful spirit.” The prince shrank back against the door we’d come through.
Before I’d realised she had moved, Red slipped her hand into mine, entwining our fingers. My heart sped up, and I had to suppress that old, familiar pain at knowing we weren’t truly in the same place at the same time. Why did she still have that effect on me? Her presence, coupled with Amir’s, confused the very core of my soul. He was only a few feet away, the sound of his breathing filled the space, yet I couldn’t be with him. She held my hand, like she’d done so many times before, yet I couldn’t be with her.
With the only two beings in either world to have touched my heart in the same space with me, I felt more alone than ever before.
“What’s wrong?”
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Nothing. There’s nothing wrong. Tell me what to do.”
“You already know, Talia.” She stroked her thumb across the back of my hand, as she always did when I needed her strength. Just like the first time she had found me, curled up on the floor at the age of fifteen, sobbing because my parents had signed away the next twenty years of my life in an ironclad employment contract. “Now do what you do best.”
Breathing in, I closed my eyes. The room appeared in a range of red, yellow, orange, and green hues. No concealed windows or doors, not even a decent crack between blocks. Only the door we’d entered through stood out. It was darker, less colourful than the wall in which it rested.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 16