“Shouldhave brought a torch,”Imumbled, andIheardJungrunt in agreement.
“Nofire then?” he asked.Ishook my head, not that he could see.Ifelt him fumbling in his pockets, and he released my hand.Ipanicked in that moment of darkness untilIheard the scratching of flint, and a spark lit the wick of a candle.Thetiny flame flickered back and forth; its light caught inJun’seyes.Igasped.
TheJunbefore me now wasn’t the manIhad entered with, but the little boyIhad once known.Hewas smaller, his face and eyes soft with youth.Hegave me a quizzical look and spokewith a high-pitched voice. “What’swrong,Tori?”
Ireached out and touched his face, my fingers tracing his cheeks that were still chubby and rosy.Ididn’t know what sort of illusion this could be, but he felt real beneath my touch.
Thecurse has warped the very fabric of reality.Whoknows what you will see?
“Nothing.Let’skeep going.”Ireached for his hand again, and his much smaller fingers slipped into mine.
Wecontinued down what felt like endless tunnels, trying to follow the pathIhad memorized.Theonly sound was our breathing untilIcould hear the faintest trickle of water ahead.
“Thespring!”Jun’syoung voice squeaked, and he dashed off.
“No!Wait!”Itwas already too late, asIsaw the light from his candle disappear around a corner.Iran after him, slipping on the rocky floors asIrounded the corner and nearly lost my footing.Iset my hand on the ground to steady myself asItook the turn and stood, only to have my feet freeze in place asIwas blinded by light.
Ithrew my hands up in front of my face, blinking furiously.Thecave was filled with jungle plants, andIheard water.Wasthat the sky?Notime to think on it.
“Jun!Jun!Whereare you?”Icrashed through the plants in front of me to stumble out into a well-manicured garden, the trickling of water from a fountain at its center.Itshot a clear stream of water into the sky before it fell back down like rain into a shallow pond filled with large fish in nearly every color.
Itwas a fountainIhad seen nearly every day for two hundred years. “Niata?”Howcould this be?
Iheard a soft laugh and spun to seeJunrolling on the grass on the other side of the pond, trying to hide behind a bush.Isprinted to him and grabbed his shoulders, hauling his small body up.
“Jun, what are you doing?Wehave to get out of here.”
“Ha, you found me!”Hegiggled again and tried to pull away.
“Whatare y—”
Jun’sface dropped in horror, and a shadow fell over me.BeforeIcould turn, pain laced itself across my face as the back of my father’s hand collided with my cheek.Istumbled to the ground.
“Tori, how many times doIneed to re-enforce this lesson?Stayaway from your brother.”Ilooked up as my father lifted his hand to strike me again.Iwas the child, small and helpless.
“Father, no!”Mybrother threw himself between us, but my father’s eyes remained hard, and his hand quivered.
“Jun, move, orIwill have to—”
“No, not my boy!”Mymother wrapped herself aroundJun, hauling him away.
“Tori!”Hereached back for me, and our fingers met for just a moment before we were wrenched apart.
“Jun!”Itried to crawl after him as he struggled against my mother’s iron grasp, but pain laced itself over my face again, andIfell back down into the grass.
Itwasn’t grass but a rocky cave floor, and the sun winked out, andIwas in total darkness again.Iscrambled, screamingJun’sname over and over, only to be met with echoes.Istumbled blindly until the sound of water found my ears again.Islipped over the uneven floor asIscrambled towards it.
Theday broke through, golden and filled with the smell of ambrosia.Istumbled into the room of a fine palace.Thewalls shimmered in the early morning sun, and a fae wearing the flaming crown of theGoldenKingdomstood at the window.Itwasn’tHadeon.Infact, this man looked nothing like him.Thesound of water came from a slave pouring tea into a fine porcelain cup.Theman took it from the slave’s outstretched hand before slowly spinning towards me.Ithrew my hands up, ready to fight.
“Youcertainly enjoy keeping me waiting,” the man said.
“Apologies,YourMajesty.”Ijumped nearly a foot in the air at the familiar voice behind me.Ispun around to seeLordPlagisstanding next to…Pallas?LordPlagiswas younger, his hair still dark and his face smoother, but still had that same slimy look to him, though.
“AsIhave said numerous times, this work cannot be rushed,YourMajesty.”Thewoman spoke with no deference to the monarch before her.Shecertainly sounded likePallas, but it wasn’t her.Theywere almost twins, but this woman was older and harsher.Hergrey eyes were honed like daggers asPlagisshot her a withering look.Sheignored him.
“Whatnews do you bring me,Runya?”
“Theevidence continues to support my previous conclusions.Withevery great beast felled, the animavita of our prisoners diminishes.Itfollows the patternIhave seen in my own magic.”Shehesitated, then added, “Andin yours.”
