“Is it…?”
“Tomato soup? Afraid so,” he says. He smiles, and it’s moredisorienting than the fact he’ll never age. “Pretend you like it. I’ll have a servant fetch you something better after the meeting.”
Together, we walk through the quiet halls of the western wing, and I silently pray to every god we have that Elliot found his way home.
8
KING OF THE VAMPIRES
CORA
Idon’t retain many memories from my final days in Ochre. There are only a handful I hold inside my head, and they are the most painful of all. By themselves, they are enough to eat a person alive, to devour them whole until death feels like the gentlest option.
Maintaining these memories is an art. I keep them far enough they won’t destroy me, but close enough I never forget.
As I lie in bed that night, I feel the scratch of old memories at the edge of my mind. I don’t ignore them like I normally would. I sift through them, rejecting any that include Elliot, until I find the one I inexplicably crave.
Cora Reed
age 15
Neutral territory
Don’t stop,I beg myself. My legs are numb. Maybe from the stark cold. Maybe from the countless miles they’ve carried me. I don’t know how long I’ve been running. I don’t let myself slow enough to take a guess.
I keep moving, knees buckling as I cross the neutral territory. The ground here is scarred and black, still reeling from the witches’ curse years ago. My people see themselves as the Echo’s saviors, and yet, they destroy far more than they protect. The neutral territory is meant as a safe haven, but their magic is a disease here, contained only by the thick black ledge surrounding these cities.
I run for so long, it’s too difficult to think. I rely on instinct alone, eyes blurring against the brutal wind.
It is only once I reach an outer ledge that I pause. My legs tremble until I finally allow them to collapse. I fall to the burnt dirt in a heap, digging my bloodied fingers into the soil. I am soaked in blood. It’s splattered across my clothes, my face, my hair. It’s beneath my fingernails, dark and dried.
I don’t know where I am. I’m hoping this is the Flight Realm. In all the times I dreamed of running away from Ochre, I imagined going to the mountains. I can see them from here, but I can’t tell if this ledge borders the Flight Realm…or enemy lands.
I have heard terrible things about the Night Realm. Heartless vampires. Volatile werewolves. Monstrous fiends, neither human nor other.
I glance over my shoulder. There’s a neutral town less than a mile from where I sit now. Every town I’ve crossed thus far has been sleeping, and I’ve been grateful. Sleeping people don’t ask questions.
But in the Night Realm, the safest hours come with daylight. Most werewolf packs are deeper north. Vampires are my greatest threat, and until sunrise, I won’t risk crossing into their lands.
I may be without golden bands for the first time in years, but that doesn’t mean I know how to use magic. The power pulsing through my body feels more like a liability than a strength. It was enough toget me out of the prison, and I’d like to believe I could take any number of vampire attackers. I’m just not sure I’m ready to bet my life on it.
I let out a shaky breath. My vision is going hazy. I don’t know if it’s fatigue or if it’s an effect of using magic for the first time. All I know is I want to throw up and cry and maybe sleep for the next fifty years.
Does Elliot know? I wonder. Has he heard?
I dig my fingers tighter into the dirt and glare at the skyline. There’s at least an hour left of nightfall. I could wait here until daybreak, but that’s an hour for one of Lyrie’s soldiers to find me. To capture me before I even see them. To drag me back to the Day Realm.
I won’t escape a second time.
“Go,” I hiss under my breath. “Don’t think. Just. Go.”
I’m back on my feet. Legs pumping, eyes locked on the distant mountains. It’s easy to distinguish the neutral territory, but the realms fade into each other. In the darkness, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins.
“Focus on the mountains,” I say. And I run and run and run, far longer than my body should allow.
My breath is harsh and ragged. My heart feels ready to burst out of my chest. My vision dances with spots, and maybe that’s why I don’t see him coming until it’s too late.
He crashes against me, and I pummel into the dirt like a wounded bird. I roll twice before coming to an abrupt stop on my stomach. Letting out a rough groan, I rotate onto my back.
