Beneath the alabaster sp.., p.12
Beneath the Alabaster Spire, page 12
But no, there were just fifteen. They appeared to be sleeping inside tight, coffin-like chambers, but she sensed their sharp intelligence. Though their eyes were closed, they were not asleep, but in some sort of stasis, in a grand chamber at the center of what she assumed was the prison—Nihil. The heart of the limen pulsed behind them, an enormous knot of life-giving dark power: the aether that filled not only the threads of reality on Okairos, but made magic possible everywhere, in all worlds.
The wardens were winged, just as Finn was, their skin varying shades of subtle blues and greens. Unlike Finn’s true form, they were taller, and grander somehow, their features more severe. Harlow wondered if it had something to do with their proximity to the heart of the aether, which flowed around them, into them and out of them. The aether was more alive here than she’d ever seen it and the wardens were absolutely breathtaking in their power.
As the shadowy magic moved, she saw where the missing wardens should be: there were two empty chambers. Two of the wardens were missing? What did that mean? A sharp burst of fear sliced through her.
Seeing the prison for herself, it hit home what a dangerous gamble it was to house any elemental being that ostensibly fed on aethereal energy so near its actual source. As she looked around, she understood the risk. Her spirit body was a pure vehicle for her second sight, which meant she saw the threads of power here more easily than she would in the waking world.
The guardians—the wardens—channeled aether into the great web that was the prison itself; not a physical building exactly, though it had form, but a spell so complicated she could barely track the intricate threads that bound the place together. As she examined the spellwork, she saw that the wardens themselves were the conduits for its power, all that stood between the prisoners and what they likely wanted more than anything in all worlds.
As if by instinct, Harlow traced the dark source of magic; it made up the very walls of the chamber, spreading into vast spaces that she sensed, rather than saw, in her spirit form. There were countless smaller cells, but four that were vast. One was empty, but the others were occupied. Her curiosity piqued, she tried to sense what was inside them from the outside, but could not tell.
Harlow wasn’t sure what she could do in this space, but she badly wanted to see what was inside those chambers. She pressed into one, sliding between the walls of the spell easily in her non-corporeal form. It was a little surprising that her presence didn’t trip any wards, and she wondered if being a Strider made her somehow invisible here. As her second sight adjusted to the chamber, she recoiled in horror. The thing imprisoned there was nothing like any elemental being she’d ever read about, or could even conceive of.
Its attention moved slowly, but she felt when it turned towards her. She was but a speck of dust in comparison with it, and yet, it sensed her. Its size was inconceivable, and though she could not make out its form, her spirit understood that it was a thing of nearly pure malevolence, which should not be possible—all things were a mixture of what she understood as good and bad, even elemental creatures. She froze in abject fear as it laughed. The thing was sentient.
Hello, little bird.
Its words were not words. They were bloody shrieks and tortured wailing. They were little more than an impression, but one that filled her with despair. She pulled away from the Ravager, for that was what it had to be, as quickly as she could, but she felt it in every fiber of her being as she re-entered the stasis chamber.
See you soon, it called after her as she retreated.
Harlow’s spirit form threatened to pull apart from panic. It was vital that she regain control of herself, as there was no guarantee that her consciousness would reassemble in her body on Okairos if she disintegrated here. She stumbled towards the wardens, thinking to steady herself nearer to the knot of aether they guarded.
The largest of them opened his eyes, which glowed with the same light as the Illuminated’s. There was no doubt that, whatever power the Illuminated had, they were one and the same with the Ventyr. There was something regal in his expression, as well as deep sadness.
“Strider,” he whispered, a smile forming on his impossibly beautiful face. His features were stronger, more rugged than Finn’s, but there was a resemblance between them, she thought. Some hint of affinity.
When he spoke again, he had a voice that would have sent her to her knees, had she been in her corporeal form. “Go home, child. It is not safe for you here.” His hand stretched out before him, and the shadows he channeled from the heart of the limen surrounded her, pushing her backwards, out of the dark world at the center of all life.
Her eyes flew open. Finn was staring at her. He was back in his alternae, his jaw slightly slack as he took her right hand in his. Her entire arm was covered in black, iridescent feathers. The feathers dissolved before their eyes, melting into her shadow magic, which flowed around her ink-stained hands.
“You started to shift,” he said.
“How long was I gone?”
Finn glanced at the clock. “Gone? What do you mean?”
Had no time passed? How was that possible? “I was angry,” she replied. “And then… I think I was in Nihil. I think… I think I saw Ashbourne.”
“You saw him?”
She nodded. “And the generals. They were like you… I must have been hallucinating.”
He shook his head. “You weren’t.”
“The Illuminated are the Ventyr,” Harlow said.
“Yes,” Finn replied, his shoulders slumping.
“That’s not all I saw,” Harlow choked out. She did her best to describe the Ravager, but no words could capture its terrible essence.
Finn rose far enough to slide back into his chair, dragging her with him into his lap. They were silent for a long time, breathing in time with one another. When he finally spoke, his voice was weary. “No one can ever find out that you know this, Harls. Promise me you won’t tell anyone else.”
Part of her railed against the idea of having another secret, of keeping a secret for the Illuminated. But when she thought about the fact that Connor McKay had beaten his only son within an inch of his life for just telling Cian, literally the most trustworthy person ever, that the Ventyr existed, it made more sense. She had no trouble imagining that Connor, or any of the elder Illuminated, would kill her and anyone they thought she might have told about all this. This was a secret they wanted kept at all costs.
As much as she hated to admit it, after coming in such close contact with one of the Ravagers, if there was any possibility that what Finn had said was right, that somehow Okairos was safer than other realms—hidden somehow—then keeping this a secret made more sense than telling. It excused nothing about the way the Illuminated had operated here for the past two thousand years, but she could agree that if Okairos was beyond the reach of those creatures, and the rest of the Ventyr, then maybe secrecy was necessary.
“All right,” she agreed.
“Stay away from that book.”
She nodded, but he took her chin in his fingers. He didn’t grip her hard, but his hold on her was firm. “Promise me.”
“I will,” she whispered. He didn’t need to explain further. She already understood. Children were precious to the Illuminated, and Connor had tortured Finn to drive his point home.
He pulled her tighter against his chest, playing with her hair. Both of their breathing slowed. “The Ventyr are dangerous, Harlow. They have a limited ability to travel between worlds, but when my parents came here, they were looking for easier ways to do so, and not to explore or create alliances, but to serve their endless desire to conquer.”
“Isn’t that what they did to us, though?” Harlow asked. She didn’t want to make Finn feel bad. She understood he was nothing like his parents, but there was something she didn’t feel he was acknowledging.
“Yes,” he agreed. There was no but. “I don’t think my parents’ generation knew any other way to behave. If it matters at all, I think they love Okairos and want to protect it.”
Harlow let out a derisive huff of air, rolling her eyes. “That’s one way to put it.”
“They’re evil. I know that… I’m just not sure they ever had a choice to be any different.”
Harlow thought of the noble expressions on the guardians’ faces. The way Ashbourne had looked at her when he sent her home. It was nothing like Connor or Aislin McKay, or any of the older Illuminated. “Are you sure that’s true? The wardens were different somehow.”
Finn’s bottom lip quivered and his eyes fluttered shut. “No,” he said, voice hoarse. “No, I’m not.” He stared into the dark fireplace.
She stroked his cheek, pressing kisses to his cheekbones, his brow, then finally his lips. “I understand why you need to believe there could be good in them.”
He glanced at her, visibly cringing at her words. “Do you?”
She kissed him again. “You’re the only good thing they ever did. You are what’s good about them.”
His eyes fell to her engagement ring, which he touched. “You are what’s good about me.”
She shook her head. “That is not true. You are what’s good about you. You, Alaric, Petra… You’re all good in ways they aren’t. The three of you chose something else.”
Finn’s jaw clenched, as though he couldn’t quite trust what she said.
She gripped his chin now, a mirror of what he’d done to her before, turning his stormy eyes to hers. “It is a choice to be good—to do good—one you make every single day despite them.” His eyes misted as she spoke. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“You are?” he asked, his voice breaking over the words.
“I am,” she replied. They stared at one another as her words sunk in. “Everything you are, everything you’ve done, everything you’ve endured… I am so proud of you.”
He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “What did I do to deserve that kind of love?” he murmured. The look in his eyes was full of gratitude she didn’t want.
“Nothing, sweet boy,” she said, pressing yet another kiss to his lips. “You never had to do anything for me to love you this way. It’s not something you can earn.” The blush blooming on Finn’s cheeks sent heat through her. He looked so damn happy. “It’s not something you can lose, either.”
He hugged her tight. “I love you, Harlow,” he breathed into her hair as he lifted her, carrying her to bed.
Chapter Eleven
The next day felt like autumn, a Nea Sterlis autumn, mild and blessedly sunny; but a storm was raging out at sea, though the weather reports said it was unlikely to come ashore. From the terrace off the kitchen, the view of the imposing clouds was menacing. Harlow sat outside, sipping her last cup of coffee for the afternoon. If she drank much more, she’d be unlikely to sleep.
The household was all out at their scheduled activities, she and Axel the only ones left at home. Even Larkin had gone to the pool with the twins and the Wraiths. They’d asked her to come along, but Harlow was still shaken from her trip to the limen. Thea knew something was wrong, but when she’d pressed her about it over breakfast, Harlow had snapped at her, which started one of their silent wars.
Harlow hated to keep a secret from her family, particularly Thea. She’d worked so hard to mend her relationships with them, after everything that happened with Mark, and having to keep a secret so monumental from all of them bothered her. A heavy thump caught her attention. The auburn cat was back, and it rubbed its face against her calf.
“Hello there,” she crooned, patting her lap. She wasn’t sure if the big feline would consent to be held, but she felt like offering.
It didn’t take her up on the invitation, instead leaping onto the table next to her, staring into her eyes. Its expression was fiercely intelligent, as though any moment it might open its mouth and speak. She chuckled at her own foolishness.
“May I scratch your ears?” she asked politely, stretching her fingers towards him.
He bumped her hand with his head and she gently rubbed behind the massive ears, feeling the muscles in the cat’s neck as it strained towards her, purring. “Aren’t you sweet?” she crooned.
It glared at her, pawing her hand away as if to say, “Don’t underestimate me.”
“You are very fierce,” she said. “Obviously.”
Axel chirped from the doorway and the red cat jumped down from the table to bump noses with him. The two of them leapt onto the wall and disappeared down a steep ledge that ran along the sea wall to the next terrace over. Harlow couldn’t watch. Though she knew it was probably safe for a cat, Axel was her baby and she hated to watch him navigate such spaces.
She waited a moment, then rose to peek over the balcony at them. They were facing away from her, watching something intently below. She followed their gazes, but saw nothing. The red cat turned, its topaz eyes alight with awareness and it looked straight at her and yowled, then looked back at the spot below where Axel’s gaze affixed. Harlow saw nothing at first.
The red cat hissed just as Axel growled. Both cats’ fur stood on end, their tails doubling in size. Harlow peered again at where their attention was affixed. She took a few deep breaths and then engaged her second sight. Sure enough, the threads were disturbed, just in the spot the cats were looking. There was something there, rendered clumsily invisible by spellwork.
“Not so clumsy if I missed it the first few times I looked,” she muttered.
Harlow marked the spot where the disturbance was. It was near the door to the beach below, bouncing against the villa’s ward. If she could get down there before whatever it was disappeared, she might be able to get a better look at the thing. She rushed down the stairs that led to the seawall level. Footsteps followed her, and she glanced behind her.
Finn grinned at her, caught sneaking. His hair was still damp. He’d been surfing earlier in the day and had made a trip to the market. His hands were full of groceries. “Hey there, gorgeous. Where are you off to in such a rush?”
“Axel and his cat friend found what’s probing us. Somebody’s made whatever it is invisible, rather badly, but still… It’s at the beach door.”
Finn set the groceries down. “Okay. And you’re going to look?”
She nodded, urgency filling her. “We should hurry before it gets away.”
Finn grabbed her arm. “Let’s take this slow, okay? Whatever it is, it might be a good idea to pretend we don’t see it, don’t you think?”
Harlow rolled her eyes. “Or we could grab it and take it apart.”
They stared at each other for a moment, both thinking. “Something about the Great Pineapple Debate has been bugging me,” Finn said.
Harlow threw her arms up in the air. “What in seventeen hells does that have to do with anything? You want to argue about pizza right now?”
He snickered. “No. Though you’re wrong. It’s a superior topping.”
Harlow glared.
“No, what’s been bugging me was the angle the video was taken from. Like the camera was on the ground,” Finn said, taking her hand and kissing it.
Harlow couldn’t remember the video itself. She tried to avoid watching anything Section Seven posted. “What’s weird about that?”
Finn pulled her towards the beach door. “Even if a person had taken the video, it would be odd for the camera to be on the ground. Maybe table height, but the angle was strange.”
Harlow couldn’t really see the significance, and she was worried they were going to miss whatever the thing was altogether.
“How did you catch sight of it, if it’s invisible?”
“My second sight caught the spell. If I’d known what I was looking for, I’d probably have caught it sooner. The cats hissed at it.”
Finn nodded. “Cats see through spells easily. Did you know that?”
Harlow sighed. “Of course.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, drawing her toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “So, think with me for a minute. What if we have a fight in front of it and see what happens?”
He had a point. If Section Seven, or one of the other gossips was utilizing some kind of surveillance device, then having a fight in front of it might trigger some kind of reporting. It was the kind of thing she wasn’t used to thinking yet, but of course he was. She smiled, agreeing. “And then what? Just let it go?”
Finn nodded. “You use your second sight to see if you can get a better look at it, but we’ll be having a fight about something.”
“Like what?” she asked as his hands slid under the light sweater she wore. It had been chilly in the house all day and she’d pulled one of his sweaters on over a bathing suit. She’d meant to go swimming this afternoon. The warm days were numbered, after all.
“Did you have to be wearing this?” he asked, his fingers grazing over her hips, tugging at her bikini bottoms. “It’s going to be very distracting to be rude to you while you’re wearing something so hot.”
“Focus,” she laughed. “Was anyone with you today when you surfed?”
His forehead wrinkled. “Kate, of course. But we ran into some of her friends on the beach. Some kind of bird shifters, swans maybe?”
Harlow’s heart leapt. “Was one of them Leto Vipointe?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. She wouldn’t stop touching my arm.”
Harlow snickered. “This is almost too perfect. Kate and I used to argue about that girl all the time.”
Finn frowned. “Because?”
“Because she’s a hideous flirt!” Harlow smacked his arm. “You are so oblivious sometimes.”
He shrugged, kissing her nose. “I think about you a lot. It doesn’t leave me a lot of room for noticing other people that way.”
His face was so open and earnest that Harlow had to kiss him. She raised up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. “I’m really sorry about this, okay?”
Finn started to say something, but she threw the door open and stalked out onto the beach. “Don’t follow me,” she sneered, her entire countenance changing.
