by Ana Calin
“What she thinks she saw,” Draven reminds me in a pressing voice. “Xerxes, we all knew this mission would demand a fuckton of us. We knew it would cause us pain, and suffering, and it might even claim our lives. It’s a fight that Queen Cerys has to participate in, and she’ll have to cope with her own losses.”
I need to punch something, so badly. I kick myself before I can fall deeper into this miserable state, and direct my attention to the shadows crawling on the walls and the ceiling like pools of tar. They move away from me, as all things dark and hellish do from something even darker, but I follow, opening up my senses to them.
They emit the same kind of energy I sensed from the shrouded visitors a few hours ago. Tartarian energy.
“These are spirits from Tartarus,” I tell Draven, reaching out for one of them, letting it feel that I won’t harm it. It crawls carefully to my finger, but doesn’t quite dare touch me, like a starving but wary animal. “Spirits similar to the one that took Nazarean’s shape.”
“You mean they could take the shape of animals, too?”
“Not only that. They have the potential of becoming anything she needs them to be.”
“She called them forth when she was angry. So it’s her emotions that channel them into this realm, but it will take time for her to learn how to control them.”
I watch the creatures shimmering on the ceiling. “Do you think you can deal with them in a non-violent way now?”
Draven stops behind me, his intense eyes on the shadows. “I can neutralize them. Channel them back to where they came from.”
He steps in front of me, opening his arms, leaning his dark head back. An aura of shadow emerges from him, attracting the creatures to it like a magnetic field. The shadows shriek as his aura intensifies, pulling them into it and incorporating them.
When he’s done, and he turns to me again, heaviness falls over my heart. I have to walk back out there again, and face Cerys. I have to face the pain in her eyes, and deal with what I’ve done to her.
“Do me a favor,” I manage in a hoarse voice. “When we’re at the Palace of Realms, she will have to share an apartment with Kareim, and I won’t be able to watch her with the attention of the entire Council and all the realm leaders fixed on me. You do it, even if you have to use your less orthodox skills.”
Duke Draven has a very special set of shadow skills, with spying as one of his strong suits. Being a duke of shadows, he is unbeatable when he wants to remain unseen. He nods, the promise dark like coal in his eyes.
Every step I take down into the pub hurts. When I find Cerys, I wish I could take all of her pain into myself.
“Draven was able to neutralize the shadows,” I tell her. “They’re Tartarian in nature, the same kind of spirits as Nazarean is and, if you would train and learn to control them, they’d probably take the shapes of animals too, and act as your familiars. You could probably build a whole army of them. But sadly, we don’t have time for that now. Your training will have to wait until we have this whole thing behind us.”
Her mouth curls up in a bitter smile. “You know what, you’re right. I was tapping into the magic down my bloodline because I thought it would be of use to us at the Palace of Realms. Of use to you. But I see you have all the support that you need. I will save my energy for afterwards. For when our bond is severed.” She stands, Nazarean leaping elegantly from the table into her arms. “So the room is clear?”
“It is.”
She makes a show of craning her neck to look up at the populated stairs. “I suppose Duke Draven will be ready with McTarvish’s room soon as well, and you and your courtesan can resume whatever it was that I interrupted.”
She heads back to her room with Marayke, while all the others stare at Zestari and me. The courtesan smiles proudly, but her triumph that hurts Cerys so much will be short lived. Soon she’ll find out what actually happened in that bedroom, and that she’s no where close to my heart or even my bed.
Cerys
“THERE IT IS,” MARAYKE says as we stop to take in the hills before us, covered in thick woods, clouds of mist floating through them. “The Caledonian forest.”
I stare from the top of the mountain at the vast wavy territory spreading ahead of us, and a feeling of mystery and danger permeates my skin. Everything about the sight is unique and special.
“Fascinating, seeing it like this,” I whisper. “In the human world there’s hardly a trace left of it.”
“Well, it exists here, and it’s filled with power.”
“I can feel it.”
Delving into the Caledonian forest is an experience in itself. It sends chills and sensations over my skin, creeping under the leather I wear, carrying the breath of danger within thick clouds that blot out the sun, plunging the entire territory into what resembles an eternal half-shade.
“This place is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” I whisper to Marayke, who looks just as reverent towards our surroundings. The forest takes my breath away, not only with its landscapes, but also because of all the magic I feel floating on the air.
But soon a thin layer of air closes around us like a bubble as the guards close in from the rear and drive us closer to Xerxes, who leads the procession.
“The magic in this place might feel good, but it’s one of the most treacherous things in the world,” he tells us. “It could lure you away from the group. We’re now protected in a bubble of magic, but that protection can be breached. So whatever happens, don’t stray.”
My lips don’t move, but inside my head I’m calling him all kinds of offensive things. I’ve been trying to stay away from him for the entire journey, gladly keeping behind him, content with Marayke and Draven at the rear. Xerxes never liked the distance, though. He’s happier with the proximity now, I can sense that, but I’m far from comfortable with it. It makes me physically ill, because I simply don’t believe in us anymore. How could I be so blinded by a mere illusion? And now that it splintered to smithereens, it hurts like a mother.
One thing is for sure. After this is over, I have to get as far away from him as possible. Distance should help dull the pain. How could he do this to me? I mean, I understood when he first told Zestari that he would need her comforts that night that he did it in order to deflect any suspicions the others might have had about us. But why did he have to go all the way with her? He only did it for his own personal pleasure, that’s why.
Marayke starts telling me stories about the forest in an attempt to fish me out of the dark place I’m sinking into. It’s working more or less. At least it takes my mind off the pain, but when the spires of the Palace of Realms appear in the distance, piercing the clouds of mist, her words fade.
The closer we get, the more my eyes widen. Tall, and black, the Palace looks like an ancient monument with spiraling towers that appear made of wrought iron. On a closer inspection I discover it’s black granite and anthracite. The place is entirely made of stone, like some great troll fortress. It’s placed in a clearing that’s swarming with people flooding in from all directions. We had been sharing the forests with so many others, entire processions heading for the same place, and we didn’t even know it.
“That’s how powerful the forest’s magic is,” Marayke explains.
As for Xerxes, he doesn’t seem surprised.
“I told you the woods were treacherous,” he says over his shoulder. “One last thing before we get in there,” he tells us all. “Whatever you do, never run out of the Palace alone at night. The woods will project illusions, mostly the illusion that you’re alone, but danger will be lurking everywhere. None of those who ventured out there at night was ever heard from again.”
We head towards the wide entrance of the Palace along with entire throngs of people, all of them glittery and majestic, surrounded by guards and courts, and marching soldiers. We seem to be the smallest group of all, and yet the crowd moves to the sides to let us through first.
“We are the very reason they’re all here,”
Marayke whispers. “They’re bound to grant us priority.”
Only that we’re not here to enjoy special honors, but to answer to the Council for a conflict with Hell. We’re defendants, not honored guests, or at least Xerxes is. My heart beats in my throat. I don’t think the tension from all these staring people can get any worse, but when we enter a large hall prepared for a royal reception, it does.
There’s Samael, just at the base of the podium where the welcoming committee awaits. It’s comprised of two beautiful angel women with flowing blonde hair, sapphire eyes and wings like storybook fairies, and two demons whose presence alone is enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
But Samael, the Archangel of Death, is a whole new level of scary. I’ve seen him in this form before, when he visited me in the royal chambers three days before my wedding. He projected himself as a man first, but then he allowed my mind to make its own projection. He’s got large, reptilian wings, and his face is that of a horned crocodile, his entire body covered in alligator’s skin. I know that’s not his real form. He appears to each person as their own projection of death unless he actively takes a shape of his choosing, which is usually bearable or even pleasant to the eye, but it still makes my skin crawl.
“Cerys,” Marayke says. “You’re not breathing.”
“There he is,” I reply with a tremulous whisper. “Samael, right there. Cursed realms, I think he’s looking at me, too.”
My eyes fly over to Xerxes, and find him staring daggers at Samael, too. His irises are aglow with fire. For a moment I’m afraid that they’re going to jump at each other’s throats right here, and my pulse skyrockets.
“Dear guests,” one of the angel women begins as the aggression between the two main guests fill the room. It’s obvious she can’t wait for everyone to arrive, as was probably originally planned. “The Council would like to thank you for responding to the their call on such short notice. But, as you know, the wellbeing of all our realms was threatened due to conflict between two of our most powerful members. What’s going to happen here within the next week—” She goes on introducing the great event with capable words, gripping the crowd and causing them to move closer and thus fill the space between Xerxes and Samael in such a way that they can’t reach other without having to swim through a sea of people.
But that doesn’t do much to ease the aggression between them, and I can’t tear my eyes away. Muscles ripple in Xerxes’ jaw, and I feel an overwhelming urge to support him. It dawns on me, what the love for a bonded mate truly is. No matter what he did to me, cheating on me with that hateful wanton, I still want to see him free of this. I can’t bear to even think of him imprisoned, or suffering. I can’t even think about his death without feeling like I’m dying inside myself.
“Come on.” Marayke grabs my arm and leads me away. I realize I was so focused on Xerxes and Samael, that my mind had drifted away completely from our surroundings.
“The welcoming speech is finished already?” I inquire as she makes way with me through a quickly forming line that leads towards the podium where the two angels and the demons stand. An intricately ornate banister separates them from the crowd, the podium high enough that people need to reach up uncomfortably to take whatever it is they’re handing out.
“Already?” Marayke says. “That chick has been talking for half an hour, I thought she’d never shut her fucking mouth.”
“Cursed realms, it felt like minutes to me.”
“Yeah, you seemed pretty caught up in the stare-down between Xerxes and Samael. But now the welcoming committee is handing out the keys to our accommodations, and we better secure a room for ourselves before you get stuck in one with Kareim.”
My heart jumps into my throat.
“Yes, we better.”
Marayke shoves a few fancy looking courts aside, and snatches a golden key from one of the demon’s hands. The courts whine and protest, but one glare from her is enough to silence them. They move back, making room for us. They obviously don’t want to feel her elbows jabbing into their ribs again.
“Getting one of the good rooms is a matter of battle,” she says, holding the key in her hand like it’s a trophy. “If I were a royal, I’d send my generals instead of my courts to get one for me, but most of the realm leaders only know Council conventions from stories, so they don’t know the best way to do things.”
“You’ve been to one of these conventions before?”
“Cerys, I’m a Fire Realm general. We’re basically the only ones the Council ever cared to have around at these things. We’re the best mercenaries in all the realms, and therefore the best bodyguards.” She narrows her eyes, looking playfully to the side as if she were reconsidering for a moment. “Well, us, the winter fae, and the dragon shifters. It’s true, on those occasions there were plenty of rooms available, but it was a matter of amicable fighting to get one of the very best suites. And guess what.” She flips the key in the air, and catches it expertly in her hand again. “I got us one of the top ones.”
She winks and grabs my hand, dragging me back to our group just as Draven returns with a key, too.
“Guess what,” she tells him playfully. “I got us one of the Divinity Suites at the top.”
A glimmer crosses Draven’s otherwise impenetrable dark irises. “So did I.”
They give each other a strange look. I take it as a thing of amicable competition between them, but after Marayke and I have stepped onto a cloud that’s going to take us up to the spires, I find out it meant more than that.
“Xerxes and Draven got a room on the same level. That means that you’ll be closer to him than we dared hope. You should be able to sneak into his room tonight, I’ll cover you.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” I react sharply. “I will never forgive him for what he did. I would betray myself if I did. When this is over, I’m leaving him, Marayke.”
“Leave him? Are you insane? First of all, you can’t do that, but even if you could, that would mean that Kareim has already won,” she snaps. “Why the fuck are we going through all of this trouble if you’re giving up your bonded mate anyway?”
“We’re doing it for the Fire Realm, for our people, and because the alliance between Xerxes and Lysander is a great thing that the realms never even dared hope would one day happen. We could achieve peace throughout the realms, Marayke. Universal harmony and happiness. There’s so much more at stake here than the relationship between Xerxes and me.”
She opens her mouth to say more, but Xerxes’ and Draven’s cloud rises next to ours, and I turn away. I won’t even look at him, even though every time our eyes meet I can see he’s trying to convey an explanation for what happened, an explanation that it wouldn’t be safe for him to speak out. But what could he possibly say that would take this heavy pain off my chest? He. Slept. With. Her. There’s nothing that will ever undo that.
The ride goes too fast, and I grow dizzy too soon, even though I try to hide it from Marayke. I don’t ever want to project the image of a damsel in distress again, especially not with Xerxes’ fiery gaze on me. I can feel it heating up my back through the leather.
The cloud stops high in the tallest spire. There are only a few levels left above us, and countless of them spiraling downwards under our feet. I hold on tightly to the banister, making sure I don’t lose balance as I step onto the landing. Once there, I risk a glance downwards. A second later I wish I didn’t, because I go dizzy, lose my footing, and fall back into Xerxes’ arms. Fuck, when did he get so close to me?
I yank myself away as if he burns, and square my shoulders, facing him.
“At least we’ll be close to each other,” he says, staring at me intensely. It’s the first moment of privacy we’ve had in this entire journey, and the way he’s looking at me puts a burn under my skin. It’s like he craves me with a passion that’s almost violent, and that does things to me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply, picking Nazarean from my shoulder, and taking h
im in my arms. His purring against my chest comforts me, it balances me out. “What matters is that we get through this alive, and that we save the Fire Realm. If everything goes well, we could achieve something unprecedented—complete harmony within the realms. That’s worth any sacrifice to me.” I can’t keep the sting out of that last one.
I make to pass him by, but he catches my arm.
“Cerys.”
Another cloud reaches our level, and servants scurry off of it, Zestari and a few of our people at the rear, forcing him to let go and take distance.
I huff, following the servants to a set of arched double doors, intertwining twigs engraved into them. I can still feel Xerxes’s eyes on me as the servants open the doors to our suite.
“Welcome to your Divinity Suite,” Marayke says, enthusiastic and satisfied with herself. I’m gawking at the waterfall cascading down a wall and into a river that flows to the windows, and snakes between them down the spire. She heads right over to the super large bed in the shape of a lotus. “This is what I call supernatural luxury.” She throws herself onto the mattress with her arms open, the fluffy purple pillows seeming to swallow her completely.
As for me, I still can’t get a grip. Can’t believe a place like this actually exists. It looks and even feels like heaven. The windows are open arches that look outside to rolling hills and mountains covered in ancient forest and white mist. And the walls, they’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. They seem made of flowing glittering rock.
“It’s terrifying to even think about it, but I could get used to this,” Marayke says.
“Why terrifying?”
“Because this is the Palace of Realms. No one dwells here for longer than is necessary.”