“So you accept that even if I gave you immortality, it might not last forever,” the Unending murmured without taking her eyes off Keryn’s collapsed body. Spirit stood over it, an arrogant grin slitting his face as he sheathed his scythe and turned around to face the Darklings.
“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t make the most of it for as long as possible,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’m not advocating for you giving your immortality to everyone. I just don’t think you should let Death dictate these terms.”
“Maybe I should. This power has brought me nothing but trouble and misery. Almost five million years wasted in captivity because the people I turned immortal betrayed me. Never again,” she replied, and I could feel the regret in her voice. If she could go back and do it all again, she would never have made the Aeternae—by giving immortality to the Trakkians she’d found living here. Consequentially, the vampires would never have existed. And I might have died of dengue fever somewhere in the Amazon jungle during one of my trips with Esme long ago.
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” I said. “Had it not been for you, I doubt I’d still be around. GASP wouldn’t even exist, and many worlds would still suffer at the hands of evildoers. It has come full circle, Unending. You might have made a mistake, but better days will come.”
She gasped, her eyes widening as she stared at Keryn’s body and the Spirit Bender. “Tristan, you might actually be right,” she whispered. “Look!”
Ahead, the world started coming apart at the seams. Colors and matter gradually faded away as the memory disintegrated. I recognized this moment, though I had yet to come up with a term for it. I had seen this before, and I understood what it meant.
“We need to dig deeper into Keryn’s life,” I said. “We need to go back to her very first day, or as close to it as possible.”
The Darklings and the grass were disappearing. “My memory is fading.”
“It’s because this is such a distant moment,” I said. “We need to find a way to stay anchored in it.”
I pulled her closer to Keryn and the smirking Spirit. I cared very little for that bastard, and I could only focus on getting the Unending closer to herself. We’d come so far. It would be foolish not to fight our way back to the very beginning.
“How can we do that?” she asked, trembling in my grip.
“Do you see a gold thread anywhere?” I started looking around. “Think about your life before this moment. Go back further; go back as far as you can. We need a gold thread to hold on to.”
“I don’t… Tristan, I don’t see one.”
“Think!” I snapped, and she sucked in a breath. For a moment, I regretted my brusqueness, but it was necessary. For her sake and mine. She paused and looked down, her attention settling on Keryn’s head. Her black eyes were wide open and devoid of life. The soul had already moved on to another vessel, soon to be born again. Among the strands of silky black hair, however, I could finally see it. A golden thread, waiting to be plucked.
A small doorway into an ancient memory.
The Unending knelt by Keryn’s head, running a hand through the grass and the black locks. She picked out the gold thread and looked up at me. “You’re a brilliant man, Tristan.”
“Hold my hand,” I said. As soon as we touched again, I felt her life force rushing through me like a tempest, rattling my senses as though I’d touched lightning itself. Glancing over her shoulder, I noticed the Spirit Bender looking in our general direction.
No, not just our general direction. He was looking right at the Unending, who was now standing beside me once more. “How is this possible?” she wondered, noticing the anomaly as well.
“I’m not sure,” I muttered. I doubted he could actually see us. This had happened millions of years ago. This wasn’t time traveling. We were simply in one of the Unending’s memories. Spirit wasn’t supposed to be aware of our presence. He wasn’t supposed to be sentient beyond this moment. And yet I couldn’t shake the unpleasant feeling that he was looking right at us—or right at the Unending.
“We should go,” she said, and I couldn’t agree more.
Gripping the gold thread tightly between her fingers, she closed her eyes. The rest of the world vanished in an instant, Spirit included. The nothingness replaced it all, and I welcomed the eerie and tranquil sound of silence. We’d finally managed to sink deeper into Unending’s unconscious. We’d seen the first of her deaths, and now…
We’d made it. I could almost feel her freedom in the palm of my hand, like a delicate snowflake. I only had to be careful not to lose it, not to let it melt. We were so close.
Esme
Hours had passed since Petra had gotten hold of Kalon.
I’d lost track of time, staring at her and my beloved, a gold thread connecting their hearts as the high priestess had begun the transfer. In a few more hours, Spirit’s soul shard would be implanted inside Kalon’s heart, which would make him a target for Danika, the one who’d been tasked with restoring the Spirit Bender.
My helplessness made me crumble on the inside. I was kneeling in front of the open doorway, unable to get past the protective membrane Petra had put in place. She kept looking my way, grinning with a disgusting degree of satisfaction, as if she were doing all this just to spite me. The worst part? It was her own son she was sentencing to death. It was her son’s life she was destroying, and I still couldn’t believe she was capable of such an atrocity.
I wasn’t alone in my dismay. Dream, Nightmare, Soul, and Time had all stayed by my side. Lumi and the others had gone downstairs and outside, trying to figure out a way to take Petra down. Our options were limited. We couldn’t demolish the tower without affecting Tristan and Valaine’s interdimensional bubble. As Time had explained it, he’d anchored Soul’s pocket into the physical matter of the tower room. Meddling with its integrity would put my brother and the others at risk.
We couldn’t get past the membrane, either, because Petra had used obscure death magic to craft it—the kind of spell that not even Soul or Time or any of the First Tenners could untangle. She’d made it using words and sub-words that only Spirit had learned. We were pretty much screwed. Despite that, however, I hadn’t given up just yet. There was a part of me that persisted, that held on to the faintest hope that maybe we could do something before it was too late.
My chest hurt as I looked at Kalon. He was asleep, but the Black Fever was returning. Black veins spidered up his neck and across his sharp cheeks. His temperature was high, too, judging by the red blush of his skin and the pearls of sweat dripping from his temples.
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Time said to Petra.
I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the truth was she’d played her cards well. Then again, who wouldn’t? Petra had gone to great lengths to keep her family close. She’d even turned her children to the Darkling side. Kalon had been the only one to resist. It was probably why she’d found the strength to denigrate him, to turn him into a target. She considered him a necessary sacrifice, but I had no intention of letting her walk out of here.
Petra raised the smoke bauble in her hand for us to see, a stark reminder of what she had yet to do. “I think I will, actually,” she replied. Once she broke that object, Danika would be notified of our position. Yeah, we were definitely screwed, but I refused to give in.
Kalon was a fighter. He’d gone to great lengths to live as he wished. He’d taken risks to be with me, the one he loved. What kind of soulmate would I be if I didn’t come through for him now?
“The living and death magic were not meant to be together,” Time warned her. “This will all blow up in your face at some point, Petra.”
“Maybe. But until that day comes, I plan to live life to the fullest. My actions here are undeniable proof of that,” she shot back. Sitting next to Kalon, she took deep breaths as the shard began its slow descent from her heart into her son’s. At least I assumed it did. I couldn’t see it yet, though I didn
’t fully understand how the spell worked.
“Will we see the shard in that gold link?” I asked, my voice low.
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen this kind of spell before,” Time said, crossing his arms. I could tell he was still upset about how Petra had gotten into the room initially. She’d played us all, but Time had gotten it the worst—ejected from his own workspace by an Aeternae with a scythe and way too much death magic knowledge. That had to sting.
“Where are Derek and Sofia?” Soul asked, looking around. He’d been so absorbed with Petra and Kalon that he’d failed to notice we were the only ones left up here.
“There isn’t anything they can do,” Dream said. “So they’re trying to cover all the other possible angles. Roano might be the target of an invasion if Petra has her way.”
“Lumi’s still working out a way to get to her,” I muttered.
The high priestess giggled. “I wish her good luck, but the Word is no match for my words.” This was certainly not the time for supernatural puns. I rolled my eyes at her and looked away, trying to focus on something else while I put my thoughts in order. Anxiety had me by the throat, its grip tightening and making it harder for me to breathe.
I shot to my feet and moved away from the open doorway, leaving Soul and Time there to continue their scowling contest with Petra. As I walked, I hooked my arms through Dream’s and Nightmare’s arms and pulled them back with me. Neither said a word as we descended the stairs, putting two levels between us and Kalon’s room. I needed us out of Petra’s earshot.
Downstairs, I could hear some of the Seniors growling and cursing. Ridan and Hunter held them back, insisting they had no place up here. An army of Aeternae couldn’t get past that membrane, no matter how hard they tried. Arya mentioned something about ripping Petra’s head off with her bare hands, followed by Ridan’s dry chuckle. But our people were right. The Aeternae, even the Seniors, were useless against Petra. Hell, even the First Tenners were having trouble.
I wasn’t sure how all this might end. I couldn’t imagine a world without Kalon, but it hurt me even more to think that his brothers would be left on their own without their older, wiser, and kinder sibling. Leaning back against a wall, I exhaled sharply as I stared at Dream and Nightmare for a long moment. I found myself hypnotized by their identical yet opposite features. Even the tailoring of their tunics was the same, though Dream’s was mostly white, and Nightmare’s was mostly black. They had the same cheekbones and thin lips, but Dream was tanned with long white hair, and Nightmare was pale with long black hair. There was one thing they had in common, one thing that remained dominant in their appearance—the galaxy eyes. The windows of the universe itself, nestled beneath their eyelashes, keepers of secrets and life and death.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?” Dream asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Huh?” I replied, my mind still jumbled as I tried to focus. I’d brought them down here for a reason, though I couldn’t immediately remember it. I’d had an inkling of an idea. Something had crossed my mind so fast, so subtly, that I hadn’t been able to grab hold of it.
“You keep staring at me,” Dream said. “Perhaps my humor flew right past your head.”
“A lot of things are flying right past my head,” I said.
Nightmare smiled, his shoulder pressed into the wall next to me. “What’s on your mind, Esme? Talk to us.”
I sighed. “We’re helpless up here, aren’t we? Useless.”
“Do you really believe that?” Dream narrowed her strange eyes at me. I ended up shaking my head. Good grief, it was hard to stay focused with Kalon in actual mortal peril. There was a reason why I’d avoided getting myself emotionally attached to any man all these years, and this was it. Everything had gotten worse, and I was struggling to stay afloat and pull through, even though that was all I wanted.
“No,” I conceded. “Just wondering—Time can’t do anything to that membrane thing. Neither can Soul. The rest of us are equally powerless. So whatever that spell is, it’s affecting the physical realm, right?”
“That is correct,” Nightmare replied.
“What about your realm?” I asked. “The realm between life and death.”
“It has nothing to do with it. It’s a physical spell, anchored to the living world. As in-betweeners, we cannot bypass it ourselves because of the elements of death magic that were used to make it,” Dream said.
“And you two. Your ability. What is it you can do, exactly?”
Dream and Nightmare stared at each other for a second, and it appeared that lightbulbs had just been turned on inside their heads. I’d only asked in order to ascertain whether their abilities might do something against Petra—something that Time and Soul and all the other Reapers had failed to do. To be honest, I wasn’t all that sure about where I was going with my line of questioning. It just felt better to talk and explore options instead of keeping quiet and watching the disaster unfold.
“Esme, we can reach into people’s dreams,” Nightmare said. “We can feed on the energy harness by simply being alive. You see, when people sleep, their minds and souls open up, like… I don’t know, preserve jars. The lid gets popped off, and we gain access to their spiritual energy. Whether they experience good dreams or nightmares, it doesn’t really matter. They’re producing soul energy, the kind my sister and I can feed on.”
“But you’re onto something here,” Dream added, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Because the dreamworld is like another world, all on its own. Another realm that is only faintly tied to reality and the plane of the living. Petra’s magic doesn’t extend there.”
“Wait… what are you telling me?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat.
Above, Time and Soul were hurling curses at Petra. I could hear her laughing. She was enjoying this moment, and I would’ve loved nothing more than to make her choke on it. Nothing I had in mind was enough to make her suffer the way she truly deserved, though. And revenge, though appealing, wouldn’t do much to help Kalon right now. Therefore, if Dream and Nightmare had a better solution, I was all ears.
“One of us might be able to reach out to Kalon through his dreams,” Nightmare said. “Normally, my sister and I do that to feed on the energy I mentioned. It’s something only we’re capable of doing—treading this line between reality and the subconscious. The latter is only slightly removed from the former, just enough to give us a way in, despite that doorway issue we’re currently dealing with.”
“But because of that doorway issue we’re currently dealing with, neither of us is capable of planting dreams or nightmares in Kalon’s head. We can only hitch a ride on what’s already there. Well, one of us can.”
Nightmare nodded enthusiastically. “If Kalon is having a good dream, my sister can get to him. If he’s having a nightmare, I can get to him. It’s as simple as that.”
“It won’t be easy, though,” Dream reminded him. “Remember the last time we tried to get inside someone who was already dreaming?”
“Ah… right, yes,” he mumbled, lowering his gaze.
“I’m missing something here,” I said, though excitement was already flourishing inside me, making my blood pump.
“Thing is, we usually put people to sleep before we feed on their dreams,” Nightmare replied. “It gives us control. It’s how we’re able to implant good dreams or nightmares.”
It was how they’d divided the population of the last place they’d inhabited, from what I remembered. Kelara’s account of how she’d met these two had reached me after we’d all come together in Orvis. Needless to say, things weren’t looking all that grim anymore. Whatever chance we had against Petra, we had to take it, no matter what.
“Are you afraid?” I asked.
Dream scoffed. “Of course not!” She took a moment to gather herself and closed her eyes. The air buzzed around her, and my skin tingled. Hers glowed ever so slightly, and I could almost feel her reaching out and above, through the stone that had been u
sed to build this tower. I held my breath, waiting for her to smile, to tell me that she’d found Kalon and that everything would be okay. “Dammit!” she snapped, her eyes popping open. “He’s having a bad dream.”
“Ah. I guess it’s my turn, then,” Nightmare grumbled, visibly displeased.
“Dream made it look easy. Why are you so miffed?” I asked.
“Because reaching out isn’t the tough part. It’s getting through to the person that really sucks,” Nightmare said. “Think about it. Kalon has no idea what’s going on in reality. He’s under Time’s sleep spell. I can’t exactly walk in there and tell him to wake up. Man’s subconscious is not that easy.”
“But you can do it,” I insisted. “Please, tell me you can.” My voice broke. My eyes stung. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t help it. The stress and worry were getting to me, and knowing that we were so close to saving Kalon was making me all kinds of emotional.
“Yes,” Nightmare conceded. “I need to get closer to him, though, because Petra has a hold on his heart with death magic while doing the shard transfer. I need something of his. An object, a lock of his hair, anything he might have touched. It’ll help me properly anchor myself in his bad dream by establishing a personal connection.”
“You didn’t need that with other people. Dream didn’t need it now,” I said.
“Dream has her methods, and I have mine. Like I said, that golden heart string has Kalon in a sensitive spot. I need to be able to get past it and right into his subconscious if we’re to have any chance of success.”
Without hesitation, I went back upstairs. Dream and Nightmare followed close behind. When we reached the open doorway, I stayed out of Petra’s sight while Nightmare settled on the floor, crossing his legs and leaning his back against the wall. Time gave me a curious look, and I brought a finger up to my lips, silently telling him to be quiet about this.
A Shade of Vampire 85: A Shard of Soul Page 3