Fire in the sun, p.17
Between Soul and Vessel: A Dark Fantasy Romance Series (Between Life and Death Series Book 4), page 17
Her hand fell over mine, clutching it in thanks.
I was reminded of when I had found her, barely alive, on the floor of a tent in one of the mortal king’s training barracks. Her body had been laden with bruises and wounds—both new and old. Looking at her, I had thought she was not long for the Living Realm. I still remembered the way her weak hand had reached for me—as if her soul understood I was Death, and that I could make her suffering end. I had seen thousands of mortals die before, but in that moment, something came over me—perhaps it was because of Sage and the way she cherished the living. Before I knew what I was doing, I had picked Lyra up and taken her to Ezra.
Removing my hand from Lyra’s shoulder, shadows swarmed into my palm, conjuring two towels and a set of clothes. I handed them to Lyra. She placed them beside her, used one towel to cover Harper, and then proceeded to wrap herself in the second.
When you lived as long as we immortals did, nudity didn’t bother us. It was our natural state, after all. But mortals were modest creatures.
Turning my attention to Kaleb, my shadows weaved a third towel, and they placed it over top of him.
As I sauntered over to Folkoln and Saphira, my umbra swirled around me—dressing me in a pair of leather pants, a simple black tunic, and a set of black boots. Black and silver rings wrapped around my fingers, Sage’s white feather weaving into my hair.
“We’re still missing a few,” Folkoln said, black eyes scanning the river as I stepped beside him.
“We’ll find them,” I stated. “Can you sense anything?”
“No, but for all I know, the river could be interfering with things. All I can sense are the emotions rolling off of you three. Which, other than the small one’s sadness and fear, are relatively bland.” He rolled his neck, looking at Saphira and giving her a lopsided grin. “How’s that tail treating you, sis?”
“Fuck off,” she snarled, and crafted a long black dress that reached down to the stone ground, its neckline a plunging v cut. Beneath the silk fabric, her tail twitched from side to side.
Folkoln leaned back, eyeing it. “Nice try, but it’s definitely still there. I wonder if it’s going to be permanent?” He tapped his chin.
“Do you know what will be permanent?” Saphira snarled as she shot Folkoln a look so deadly that I could feel the daggers pierce him when it landed. “The imprint of my heel, stamped on your face.”
Folkoln inhaled, and when he exhaled, smoke curled from his nose. He groaned in ecstasy, “Yeah, that’s the stuff.”
“You emotion-sucking leech,” Saphira hissed in disgust.
“Would you two shut the fuck up?” I growled at my inferior siblings, pinning them both with my gaze. I looked back to the river. “I’m trying to decide what to do.”
They grew silent.
Saphira stepped around Folkoln, toward me. “If I may . . .”
“You may not,” I cut her off, my face shifting to hers. My anger was leashed, but my words had bite as I spoke between clenched teeth, “Your tongue speaks nothing but lies and treachery. I will not have it poison my thoughts.”
“Understood,” she said coldly before she spun on her heel and headed down the river, clipping a thunderous pace.
Good. That should get rid of her, at least for a little while.
I could only hope she kept going and didn’t turn around—one less soul to concern myself with.
Folkoln opened his mouth to say something, but I shot him a look that made my intentions clear—I was not in the mood to discuss anything that had to do with Saphira.
Proving he had half a brain cell, he shifted directions. “So . . . what’s the plan? How are we going to find the others?”
“Tunnel makes it pretty clear. We have two options. Go the way Saphira went or head upstream,” I answered, mulling over what made the most sense. “Whichever direction we go, we should be doing sweeps of the water.” I jerked my chin to the river. “They could still be down there.”
Folkoln glanced in the indicated direction. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, then, “We could split into two groups. One group goes downstream, the other goes upstream. We’d cover more ground that way.”
I shook my head. “Splitting up is counterproductive if our goal is to get the group together. Besides, we know nothing about these lands and what lurks in them. It’s better if we stick together.”
“Fair enough,” Folkoln replied. “So what do you want to do?”
“I think we do a quick sweep of the water. If we find nothing, we head further downstream. If some of the others did surface further up the river, then hopefully they’ll travel the same direction as us. We’ll leave a message, written on the wall, with an arrow pointing downstream so they know where to find us.”
“Alright. I’ll go back in, see if I can locate anyone else before we move ahead.”
“Don’t get lost,” I ordered, my tone serious.
“I’m insulted you think I would,” he said with a cocky, arrogant grin before he dove into the waters with little care, as if he were going for a leisurely swim. I looked down, peering beneath the surface, watching the souls as they drifted by.
This river reminded me so much of the Da’Nu.
Turning away, I walked over to the wall of the cave, contemplating what message I should leave behind. I didn’t know who or what might be lurking in this place so I wanted to make sure it was something only Fallon, Ryker, or Soren would understand.
Then, it came to me.
Slowly, I waved my hand from left to right, and my shadows went to work. Tiny bits of rock sputtered out from the wall, as if they were being removed by chisel and hammer.
When I was done, sitting over an arrow that pointed downstream, were the words—Four found their feet, two need time.
Sage
The snow crunched beneath our boots as Artemesia and I ambled through the camp, chatting with one another about insignificant things like the weather. It was nice having a light conversation with her. It felt nostalgic. Simple. Easy. But best of all, it served as a distraction—one that kept my mind occupied, away from the heavy throes of sadness.
A man walked toward us, a deer slung over his shoulders. That was one thing I had noticed about this place—there always seemed to be a steady stream of game brought into the camp. To the extent I wondered what they did with it all; surely, they couldn’t eat that much meat. Following behind the man were a boy and a girl who looked maybe a year apart.
“It doesn’t matter, mine is bigger,” the girl huffed as she held up the sizable rabbit she had caught.
“Yeah, but I caught two!” the boy snipped back. Sure enough, in his hand, strung by their hind legs, were two jackrabbits.
“That’s enough, you two,” the man scolded them softly. When he reached us, he dipped his head and said, a bit out of breath, “Good day, chieftain.” He nodded to me, and I returned the gesture.
“Good day,” Artemesia greeted him. “Nice looking buck you got there. Where did you find it?”
He nodded over his shoulder, toward the woods—the branches of the green spruce trees were dolloped with fluffy snow. “Near Cocoah Lake.”
“It’s been a good spot lately,” Artemesia stated, then introduced the two of us. By the time she did that, the kids had started to argue again over who was the better hunter.
The man shot them stern looks, but the flicker of his grin made the look fall flat. Heaving the deer further up on his shoulders, he looked at us and said, “Well, I suppose I better get going before these two end up in a fistfight.”
“Fair enough,” Artemesia chuckled, blue eyes glancing at the children. “Go easy on your father, you two.”
“Yes, chieftain,” the boy and girl replied in unison, flashing big, toothy smiles before they raced ahead, following after their father.
I watched them for a moment, wondering what that must feel like—to have your little ones trailing after you. I wondered what it was like to teach them how to hunt, to watch them grow . . . to tuck them in at night and kiss their foreheads. I wondered what it was like to have a place for your love to go, rather than it all being stuck inside your chest, yearning to be spent, but no child to give it to.
Grief drifted to the forefront of my emotions, standing there with her solemn face. She took me in her arms, wrapping them around me. The weight of her hug was crushing.
“Sage?” Artemesia asked, her hand clasping my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I took a breath. Then, another. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” I answered. That was the strange thing about grief, it was constantly coming and going, ebbing and flowing, always changing. One second, I felt okay, but by the next, I was breaking all over again.
“I think that’s a pretty normal way to be, all things considered.” She offered me an understanding look. “We can go back to your tent if you would prefer.”
“No.” I shook my head. “The outside air is good for my soul.”
As soon as the words left my tongue, the wind picked up ever so slightly. I felt the cool breeze run its fingers through my hair, felt its touch dance across my cheek, and it reminded me of Von—of the promise he’d made to me in the arena. That promise was what kept me going. It kept me from fracturing apart and reverting to the person I’d been before—the broken goddess of nothing, lying on the floor in the empress’s dungeon, covered in her own urine. Yes, being outside was exactly what I needed.
“Alright,” she said, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before we continued forward.
As we walked, I took in the world around us, marveling at the mountains. They stood like royalty—towering and majestic, wearing crowns of sparkling, craggy stone and cloaks made of rich, lush forests.
“It’s strange,” I started, thinking out loud. “The tents are familiar to me, but this place isn’t. It’s so beautiful, you’d think it would have ingrained itself in my memory.”
“That’s because you’ve probably never been here before,” she answered. “The clan was originally from the Centeria region, but we had to relocate here.”
“Why?” I asked curiously.
Artemesia took a breath before she replied. “The empress held up her end of the bargain. She left the clan untouched as her war raged around us. However, after it was finished, the realm became unsafe. The empress didn’t harm our clan, but she didn’t protect it either.” She shrugged her shoulder. “Mobs beget mobs, and when they learned the men and boys of our clan lived freely, well, you can imagine how well that went over.”
I could see the flames of history burning in my sister’s eyes, telling me where this part of the story was headed next.
She continued, “Two other clans, who were previously allied with ours, joined together and attacked us in the middle of the day. They burned our homes, slaughtered the women, and tried to take the men and boys. Those of us who survived were forced to run into the forest.” She paused for a moment, her eyebrows weaving together. “There, I saw a deer with a strange white marking on its neck, and it led us all the way here.” She gestured to the mountains. “That was many centuries ago. For all I know, the empress probably thinks our clan was wiped out during that time. I’ve done all I can to keep a low profile, hoping she’d think I returned to the soil long ago.”
“If that’s the case, it’s probably a good thing she doesn’t know you are still alive,” I answered, thankful they had been able to escape.
“Agreed.” Her eyes flicked from side to side, scanning our surroundings before she whispered, “I need to show you something.”
We stepped inside a tent where the air smelled of tobacco.
Chests lined the perimeter of the tent, piled on top of one another, some of which were open, showing off the rich pelts inside. In the middle sat a table with large maps strewn about, their curling ends held down with weights. Sitting on the thick papers were small, carved animals that looked to be strategically placed—rabbits, deer, elk, and so on. Standing around the table were a few women and a couple men. An elderly woman rested her weary bones in a chair, a pipe in one weathered hand and a carved deer in the other. Their gazes swung up to meet ours.
“Chieftain,” the elderly woman said, and they all bowed their heads.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to pass through,” Artemesia replied.
“Of course,” said the woman standing near the end of the table, and they all began to move.
One of the men helped the elderly woman stand up. He handed her her cane, which she took as she sucked on her pipe. Smoke curled from her mouth as she relied on her cane to carry her over to a chest. She plopped down on it, an audible sigh leaving her lips.
The men picked up the table and moved it, careful not to knock too many of the pieces over. Next, the women crouched by the edge of the rug and began to roll it up. Underneath was a wood floor. The one waved her hand over top of it, and then—
Part of it opened like a trap door.
I peered into the vast hole in the ground, but I couldn’t see anything.
One of the women moved to stand in front of it, turning her palm face up, and a small ball of fire grew in it. She raised it to her mouth and blew. The fireball burst forth, shooting into the hole. It bounced from side to side, lighting sconce after sconce, until a path of never-ending stairs appeared.
“Come,” Artemesia directed before she began to walk down them. I followed after her.
I did not know how long we descended into the belly of the mountain, but when we reached the bottom, Artemesia looked to me and said, “Welcome to Veshameer, the Hidden City.”
Stretching before me was a vast network of streets, shops, and homes, all carved from stone. I eyed the shop sign closest to me, noting that it did not contain words, but rather a picture—a loaf of bread, a few swirls placed over top.
“There are many languages spoken here,” Artemesia stated, her attention fixed on the sign, “so shops use pictures instead.”
“That makes sense,” I replied. “How many people live here?”
“Thousands.”
“Is that why you need so much meat?” I inquired, although I was fairly confident I already knew the answer.
“It is. Unfortunately, animals do not fare well down here, and so the clan hunts all winter long to supply the city with meat. But we only supply a third of it. The rest is purchased with gemstones and diamonds mined from down here,” she answered.
Underneath the bakery sign, the wood-slat door opened, and a man and a little girl walked out. The smells of rising sourdough and cinnamon wafted toward me. I breathed them in. With his little one in tow, the man rushed over to Artemesia. “I do not have much, but it would be a great honor if you would accept this bread, savior.” He held up what I imagined was the bread wrapped in a creamy beige linen, offering it to my sister.
Artemesia placed her hand on the linen, gently pushing it back to him. “I am so honored that you would gift it to me, but you and your daughter need it more than I do. So please, keep it.”
“But you do so much for us,” the man replied, his voice wobbling with emotion. There was something about the way he looked at Artemesia that was familiar. It was the same way the people in the Cursed Lands had looked at me—with admiration so deep you could feel it in your bones.
“And yet, it doesn’t feel like I’m doing enough,” Artemesia responded honestly.
“But it is,” the man said as he gently pulled his daughter up beside him. “This is my daughter—we named her after you. She wouldn’t be here if not for you.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” Artemesia said kindly, smiling at the two of them.
After the man and his little girl said their goodbyes, Artemesia and I continued ahead. Every once in a while, someone would come over to us and offer Artemesia something, which she would always politely decline. With every interaction, it was evident how much they respected her, and how much she cared for them.
Some time later, as we walked down a residential street, I asked, “Did you rescue all these people?”
“Some of them directly, yes. Others are descendants of those I’ve rescued over the centuries,” she answered, our paces perfectly matched. “When I saw what the empress was doing to males, I felt so . . . powerless. It took me a great number of years to realize I wasn’t.”
“You’ve done a good thing here.” I looked at her. “Do you remember the first person you saved?”
“I do.” A light chuckle passed her closed lips, her mouth curving ever so slightly as she reminisced. “My very first rescue was a young boy. After that, things just . . . well, they spiraled. Once I got a taste for saving lives; I couldn’t stop. I still can’t stop. Although, as I bring more and more people back, the weight on my shoulders increases. If the empress were ever to discover this place . . .” Her lips thinned. “It would be the end of all this.”
Shadow
Three days had passed since Avriel told me about the empress’s plans for her.
Plans that filled my lungs with a fiery rage. The kind that could burn a person to ash, if I let it get out of control. Something I refused to do. I wouldn’t let it, wouldn’t let my anger and frustrations consume me, because now there was something much larger at play. The only female that I had ever cared for was going to suffer the same fate I had experienced every time the empress commanded me to go to her bedchamber.
I would do everything within my power to prevent that from happening to Avriel. I wouldn’t allow that horrible excuse of a man to touch her. Which meant I needed to keep my fucking wits about me.
Avriel had learned Victor was planning to leave with her early next month, which didn’t give us much time to figure out how we were going to escape together. Still, I didn’t trust that grimy fucker around her, and I knew we were already working on borrowed time.
That was why it had absolutely gutted me to go to Virtus City for today’s soul crusher games. Avriel had told me to go, telling me we needed to act normally. Otherwise, we would arouse suspicion. It had taken everything within me to listen to her, although I knew she was right.
