Page 36 of The Reaping Rose

Chapter 13

Elorie

Falling through the prison is like being a stone in the ocean.

My arms do nothing to stop my descent. The weight on my chest is so heavy I can hardly catch my breath. The more I blink, the murkier my vision.

There’s an end somewhere below, but I’ve yet to reach it.

I fall and fall and fall through black obsidian. Consciousness blinks in and out as fast as one falls asleep.

One moment, my mind is alert, a hundred thoughts battle each other. The next, without even realizing it, I slip into one of them, and I’m drifting. Clinging to a memory. It’s distorted and twisted, but it’s carved from something I’ve seen. From places I’ve been.

The hallucination ends as quickly as it began. One after another, I slip in and out of dreams. Until my eyes fly open, and I finally land with a thump on something soft.

The obsidian walls of the prison gleam gold here instead of black. Paintings decorate the walls. A vase at one end of the room is filled with bright-blue flowers, and for a moment, I think they’re morning glories. But the longer I gaze, the more they crumple in on themselves.

No, they don’t crumple.

They drip.

They melt.

Like paint sliding down a canvas, the image is recreated into something else the longer I stare at it.

My fingers splay on the cerulean blanket beneath me. Smooth silk that is nothing like the sharp stone in the prison. A lamp beside the bed casts a warm glow around the room as a door snaps shut, and a figure enters.

“Malachi.”

“Don’t you mean your king?” The gleam in Malachi’s eyes is maniacal.

“You aren’t my king.” My teeth grit. “You don’t deserve your crown or your kingdom.”

He hums, stepping into the room, and I move to the edge of my bed. This vision isn’t like the other memories the prison showed me. Carved from places deep in my mind and brought back to life. This is something different.

“You’re wondering how you’re here.” He crosses his arms, leaning against a bedpost.

“Where am I?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere.” He waves his arms out. “In the prison. The Ley Court. Your mind.”

In a flash, he’s in front of me, tapping my temple. I shove away, putting some space between us.

“Your thoughts seem as good of a place as any for this conversation.”

“You’re in my head?” I glare.

“Or you’re in mine.”

Unease slithers through me. “How?”

Malachi reaches for the orb around his neck. The moment his fingertips touch the opaque glass, it glows so bright his blond hair turns a pale gold. His blue eyes sparkle like a shifting constellation in the night sky.

Fear swells in my belly as the orb twists between his finger and thumb. A gods-touched object, powerful enough to reach me inside the prison. Worse, it reached inside my mind.

I shove that thought down. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?”

“How we can help each other.”