by AR Colbert
The hall was too large to be called a room. It reminded me more of the size of the convention center where my high school prom was held. Only instead of blue and green brocade carpet and gaudy chandeliers, we were surrounded by stone. It wasn’t any less beautiful, though. The red-gold glow held an enchanting quality. Enchanting and terrifying.
The air was cool and damp; chill bumps dotted my arms. There was one main aisle down the center of the space, with rows and rows of wading pool sized openings in the floor on either side. I paused near the entrance to peek inside one of the pools. These were the source of the glow, but instead of being filled with water, they were filled with a heavy mist, like a low-laying fog swirling at an indiscernible depth.
“We don’t have to stay here.” Tate’s voice cut through the silence. “There is nothing to search in here. It’s just the pools.”
He said it so casually, like we were at a water park. But there was an inescapable weight in the air. These were souls. Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives. Real people whose lives were taken from them. They weren’t just pools.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved deeper into the hall. “The tablet can wait. I need to…” What did I need to do? Pay my respects?
I was dead center in the large room, turning in a small circle to examine the space from every angle. Tate stepped closer to me, presumably to move me along, but I wasn’t finished yet. Kneeling down, I examined one of the pools more closely as I vaguely registered him stopping behind me.
I don’t know what I expected to see. Souls weren’t visible. At least, I didn’t think they were. Thinking back to the incident with the fractured attack on Abby’s dad, I remembered Osborne extracting the con-artist’s soul through a silver box, but I never saw inside. Was it full of this same swirling fog? Were these the souls?
I tilted my head, examining the mist. How many fractured souls were in here now? The hall was massive, and each pool was large enough to hold hundreds of those little silver boxes. Certainly some of them were evil, like Rasputin’s Manticorians. But how many of them were mistakenly taken? I could have been in one of these pools if my luck had played out differently.
Warmth spread across the left side of my body as Tate dropped to his knees beside me. I looked up to see his eyes reflecting the emotion I fought inside. Perhaps he’d had the same thought.
“I’m glad to be on the outside of these pools right now instead of swirling around inside with the others.”
A flicker of hurt pinched Tate’s features. No, not hurt. Regret. “I’m glad, too. If I had carried out those orders—” He grimaced, unable to finish the thought. “I’m so sorry, Ev. I didn’t know.”
I turned back to the mist. “How many others do you think were wrongfully taken? And do they know where they are right now? Do they know what happened?”
Tate stared thoughtfully into the mist for a long time. I was wondering if he planned to answer me at all when he finally spoke again. “A few months ago, I would have said none of them were wrongfully taken. I honestly believed that every fractured soul belonged here. But I’m not so sure about anything anymore.”
“It just doesn’t seem right. They could be here for an eternity, just… waiting. Waiting for another piece of themselves that might not even exist anymore. Maybe they aren’t fractured at all. Maybe they’re just different.”
I thought of Sean and Abby, and how they could never be together or else they’d risk having fractured children. It wasn’t fair. The Keepers were amazing in many ways, but they really got it wrong when it came to managing relationships.
“What if it’s all a lie, Tate? What if the fractured aren’t inherently evil? They just don’t know how to manage their powers because they’ve never had the opportunity to learn. All these lives…” I swallowed and bit back the tears that had come unbidden to my eyes. This was making me much more emotional than I expected. “All these lives could have been saved. Things could have turned out differently for them.”
I turned to find him staring at me. The air between us practically sizzled with the electricity of our bond, as though it grew more powerful with the weight our emotion. “What if things could turn out differently for us, too?”
If the laws around the fractured were a lie, how could we be sure the curse between lovers of different Keeper races wasn’t a lie as well? This bond between us couldn’t be imagined. It was as real as the air we breathed. And I couldn’t believe that the universe would be so cruel as to make us soulmates only to kill us with some Keeper curse because we fell in love.
Love. There was that word again. And as I stared into those warm glowing golden eyes, I knew it was true. I knew it in the marrow of my bones.
Tate’s gaze dipped down to my lips, and before I knew it I was leaning into him, welcoming his kiss. My eyes closed, and I held my breath in anticipation. But when his lips came, they met me with a chaste peck on the forehead before I immediately grew cold.
Opening my eyes, I found him standing in the next row over. He must’ve run away from me as fast as he could.
“Have I done something?” I asked, incredulous. It wasn’t like me to be so bold, but I knew I wasn’t imagining this connection. He’d admitted as much. “Because I thought there was something special between us. When we kissed at the convention…” I shook my head, unable to put that feeling into words. “But now… now it’s like you’re afraid to come close to me at all. What is it? What happened?”
Tate squeezed his eyes shut, hands balled into fists at his sides. I’d upset him somehow.
My cheeks warmed with embarrassment. I was such a fool. This wasn’t love. Not for him, anyway. I remembered back to the conversation I had with Rasputin about how Tate was using me for my power. I couldn’t have believed it was true at the time. I still couldn’t believe it. But why else would he be so hot and cold? Why would he pretend to be crazy about me one minute and then refuse to show me any kind of affection the next?
With a deep breath, I steadied my chaotic emotions and made for the exit. This hall was full enough. I didn’t need to add a fractured heart to the mix as well. Tate stood between me and the cave beyond, but I put as much space between us as possible as I stormed ahead. His grasp on my arm caught me off guard.
I spun in place, but before I could speak, Tate’s mouth covered mine. I leaned into him, not of my own control, but under the orders of some ancient need that had been awoken. My fingers twisted into his hair as he pulled me even closer with a hand curving around my waist. I was his. He was mine. There would be no separating us now.
The kiss lit a fire in me, white-hot. It started in my chest and worked its way through each of my limbs until my entire body was aflame. But it still wasn’t enough. It could never be enough.
I don’t know how long it lasted, but all too soon, Tate pulled away, leaving me breathless and panting in my place. “That,” he said on shaky legs, “is why I’ve tried to keep some distance between us. This thing between us, whatever it is, is too much for me. I’m not strong enough to resist it. And I know once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
I nodded, understanding and agreeing with every sentiment.
“You’re too important, Everly.” His grin and the way his gaze raked over me left my belly in a knot. “As badly as I want you, I can’t get you killed. Save the world, first. Deliver us. Then we can really ignite this bond. Screw the consequences. Even if the curse kills us, I can’t think of a better way to go.”
Chapter 8
I was so cold. I tossed and turned, rubbing my arms to bring some warmth back into my flesh, but it was no use. Wrenching open my eyes, I realized I wasn’t in my bed anymore. I was floating, rolling in the waves.
But this wasn’t water. It was too cold to be water, and I was drowning—impossible for an Atlantean. Shivers wracked my body as I searched for the surface. I needed oxygen. I couldn’t breathe. My legs thrashed and kicked, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t swim.
It was only then that I
realized I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by hundreds of other beings, non-corporeal, all fighting to find a surface that didn’t exist. All drowning in our own sorrows. They couldn’t speak, but I knew who they were.
The fractured.
Together we clung to the faintest wisp of life in the Hall of Souls.
I wasn’t fractured! What was I doing here?
What were any of us doing here?
I fought against the cold some more, refusing to let it drag me down. If I allowed it to take me to the dregs of the bottom, I was certain there would be no coming back.
The others fought alongside me, each of us engaged in our own private war. We would not succumb.
Something sparked in my chest at thought of a battle. Athena. I had the strength of a warrior goddess brewing inside me. I leaned into the spark, fanning it into that now familiar white-hot flame. It melted through the cold, providing me strength as it extended from my chest to my shoulders, down through my arms and legs. I was stronger than the cold.
I would not succumb.
The white heat fully engulfed me now in the protective shield of its flames. I was invincible.
A yell escaped my raw throat, burning as it erupted and shaking the hall to its core. With one final surge of strength, I thrust myself up up up until my face broke through the surface of the pool.
I gasped for air, sweaty and tangled in my sheets. A dream. It was only a dream. I repeated the words out loud, rubbing my temples and willing my heart to stop racing. But a hint of heat remained in my chest, tugging me from my bed.
I stood, sliding my feet into slippers, and my hand found its way to the doorknob before I had a chance to consider what I was doing.
My body gave me no choice in the matter. I had to find Tate.
I knew the way to his rooms. In fact, after an afternoon of searching for the missing piece of the tablet, I knew my way around the palace and the inner part of Shamballa far better than I’d ever expected.
But there had to be more to it. After all, we still hadn’t gotten any closer to the tablet. What other secrets did Agartha hold?
There were no guards outside of Tate’s suite. They were either remarkably trusting of everyone in the palace—including me—or they didn’t actually care much about Tate’s welfare. My money was on the latter, especially after seeing the crowds following Osborne in the park. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Osborne had somehow paid them to leave Tate unattended.
My blood was beginning to boil again as I silently pulled open the door. His sitting room was dark and quiet. No one in sight. My teeth ground together as I realized how alone he was in here. These people should be ashamed of themselves for leaving their interim king unprotected.
Finally I reached his room, and I was fully prepared to take up the position of guard outside of his door just as soon as I could confirm he was safe. But the moment I saw his still, sleeping face, all traces of anger completely dissipated.
He looked like an angel. I wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him and snuggle his peaceful sleeping form. But I didn’t want to disturb him. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure why I was standing in his room at all. It had seemed like the right thing to do when I awoke from my nightmare, but now it just seemed childish.
And yet, I couldn’t pull myself away from him. I told myself I would just adjust the blanket to cover his bare shoulder, then be on my way. That was it.
But it wasn’t. I knelt down at his bedside, admiring the way his dark lashes fell across his cheek. I was fully aware of just how stalker-like my behavior was in that moment, but I didn’t care. I loved this man, and I cherished every moment I was with him.
The feeling was so strong, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My voice was barely audible as I said the words aloud. “Maybe we’re soulmates. Maybe we’re not. But one thing is for sure: I love you, Thaddeus Castellanos.”
His eyes didn’t so much as flutter. He was still passed out cold. But that didn’t stop the world from shifting. First I noticed the light—pure, unfiltered, without a source. It filled the room, gently illuminating the space like the first rays of morning sunshine.
Then I felt the warmth in my chest. Or maybe it was there all along. But it grew hot—hotter still, until I was reunited with that white-hot flame from my dream. And suddenly, I knew exactly what I had to do.
With one final look at my love, I turned and silently left his rooms behind. I tiptoed down the stairs, finding my way back to the great hall on the first floor of the palace. Amazingly, there were still no guards. No attendants. It was as though we were the only two souls in the entire city.
That was a good thing, because I couldn’t imagine the guards would have been too thrilled with what I had planned next. With a final lungful of air, I stepped through the portrait of the knight, ready to retrieve a blade of my own.
Chapter 9
My friends were always jealous of my photographic memory. It was understandable. It definitely gave me a leg up when taking tests in high school. But it was never as useful then as it was in this moment—navigating the cool caves of Agartha alone.
Again, I swore I could feel the cave breathing. It inhaled and exhaled as I carefully plodded my way through its winding halls, reminding me that I was merely a visitor here. I tried to be respectful. I needed the cave on my side, just in case something grew angry with my next move.
I was going to steal the Firelake blade.
I didn’t think of it as stealing, though. It was more like returning the blade to its rightful owner. The sword didn’t belong to Everly Gordon, necessarily, but somewhere in my history I knew that it was mine. One of my incarnations, at some point in the distant past, owned that sword. And my soul was ready to take it back.
I fought against the warmth in my chest as I neared the lake. My inner warrior was desperate to be freed, but it wasn’t time. I needed her to stay put with my powers tamped down until the time was right. There wasn’t an infinite supply, after all.
I’d never felt as much strength in real life as I did in my dream when I set the warrior free in the Hall of Souls. I knew that if I did it again, she would protect me from the flames. I was betting my life on it.
The blade’s song reached me before I saw the lake. I recognized the sad tune immediately, but it was more urgent now. The blade knew I meant business this time. I was coming to rescue it from its fiery prison.
My steps picked up speed as I neared the flaming expanse of the Firelake. As I reached its shore, I began to peel back the restraints on my power. The warmth under my sternum exploded the instant I gave it space to do so. A heat that couldn’t be explained spread through my shoulders and belly, down my arms and my legs, until the tip of each toe was bursting with enough power to bring the whole cave down.
I looked down at my skin, and for the first time, I saw the white glow of my aura. I was lit from within, and instinct told me I was fully protected by the shield the white-hot flames provided only to me. Looking out over the lake, I uttered a single word. “Stop.” The flames obeyed as time jerked still.
One step. Then another. I kicked off my slippers before dipping a toe slowly into the blue flame, and pulling it out for a quick examination. There was no pain. No redness. The heat had no effect on me.
With the confidence of a general stepping into battle, I strode all the way into the lake.
The bottom dropped quickly, and the flames consumed my body after only a few steps. Frozen in time, they more closely resembled a blue version of the northern lights, and I imagined myself the subject of a painting rather than a girl in a nightgown at the bottom of a flaming pit.
The song was louder now, pleading for me to come. I stopped thinking, pushing all logic and reason from my mind as I allowed the natural instinct of my soul to lead me to the blade. I walked for some time, never wavering as my power stayed strong. There was no guessing when I finally reached my destination.
A large boulder sat at the bottom at what I guessed was th
e center of the large lake. The top of the stone reached my shoulder, and it was as wide as a small car. The flames kept their distance from the stone, offering up clearing, frozen in time around the boulder like a kaleidescope of color.
But the most striking detail was the gilded handle of a sword, plunged deep into the rock, all the way down to its hilt.
The Firelake blade.
I paused only for a moment before reaching for the handle. It was surprisingly cool in my palm, and new tendrils of power from the blade danced their way up my arm, meeting my own white-hot power at its source beneath my sternum.
Mine.
One gentle tug was all it took to slide sword from the rock. It slipped out as easily as the stick of a half-melted grape Popsicle in the middle of an Oklahoma summer. But power of this blade was far more delicious.
The blade extended as long as my arm. There was a considerable weight to it, but holding it felt natural. And the power of the blade buzzed through my entire body now, entangling with my ancient untapped powers and leaving Athena quite pleased with her new possession.
Blade in hand, there was one more thing I needed to do. I practically ran back up the steep slope of the lake bed, stopping short only when I noticed the dark figure of another person standing on the shore up top.
“Everly!” Tate’s tear-streaked face kicked time back into gear. Blue flames danced around me as I closed the distance between us, feeling much like a fiery siren emerging from her lair.
“Are you okay?” Tate’s eyes widened when he took in the giant sword in my hand, but his focus was entirely on me and my wellbeing. “I had a dream. You were in my room, and…” He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
“And I told you I love you.” Power surged in my chest again at the words.