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He awoke with a start and found himself tangled in his covers, his bed a sweaty mess. A primal, soul-wrenching scream escaped his lips at the realization he was alone, crushed by despair. “Shit!” he yelled, throwing his pillow against the wall. The gratification he had finally experienced had been far too short-lived, and she had slipped away from him once more. For a moment, he wondered if it was worth it—he was alive again, invigorated by her dramatic entrance into his life, but his newfound ability to feel passion and warmth also meant he was more susceptible to the heartache of the loss plaguing him every morning.
Nearly losing his balance as he leapt from his bed, he threw on his clothes from the previous day and stumbled out of the room, hoping to leave behind any traces of her. The near-complete portrait by the window greeted him, its inherent beauty sending another stab of pain through his heart. The small house felt oppressive, as if something had sucked all the air from the room and the walls were going to tumble down on him at any moment. His hands shook, fumbling with the laces as he tried to get his boots on, and he escaped outside, still struggling to breathe.
The niggling thought which had been a thorn in his psyche for the past week rose to the surface again. Everything about Liora felt real, from her poignant gaze to the undulations of her body against him. Despite her consistent presence and the remnants of her touch upon his skin, he remained skeptical she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, a manifestation of a lifetime of unfulfilled desires and wasted potential.
Stephen paid no attention to his path through the woods, his feet instinctively taking him down the trail he had walked so many times before. His hand closed around the crystal he didn’t remember slipping into his pocket. For a split second, he debated hurling it into the thick forest and trying to forget everything that had happened to him. It stayed in his grasp and he wandered on, a solution to his predicament floating out of reach.
He didn’t know how long he had been walking before he noticed the shift in his surroundings. His heart skipped a beat as he wondered if he had gotten lost, then almost stopped altogether as he realized where he was. The graceful arch of the branches above him spurred him forward. He increased his pace. The lack of a defined passage through the trees threatened to trip him up and errant twigs scratched at his skin, but nothing could stop him from reaching his destination.
Ignoring the first streaks of pain creeping up his calf, Stephen burst into the clearing and came face-to-face with the scene he had feared was an invention of his subconscious. The waterfall cascaded into the shimmering pool, edged by the low, flat stones rising from the verdant moss. Fine mist coated his skin as he stepped closer and the scent of dampened grass hung heavy in the air. Every detail was vibrant and crisp. It was a spectacular sight, and he knew it was not a dream.
He searched the area for any signs of Liora, but she did not appear. Confused and dejected, he moved toward their favorite place. Before he could sit down, though, something extraordinary caught his eye.
The surface of the water had transformed into something unlike anything he had ever seen. Its clear depths had been replaced by a silvery blue fog which twisted and churned below him. He climbed on top of the rock to examine it further and was struck by a cold gust of wind. Staring into the mystical haze, he sought to see down to the bottom, and came up empty.
He stood up and cast a final look around. Nothing had been explained, and there were still far more questions than answers. He didn’t know if he was risking his safety, or even his life, with what he planned to do. His instincts to shy away from potential danger were not easily silenced, but thoughts of Liora consumed his mind and he had to take his chance. Without a further farewell to the world and life he knew, Stephen took a deep breath and stepped off the rock into the darkness.
Part Two:
The View from Underground
Chapter Eight
The cottage in the woods was nearly hidden by the drooping leaves of the surrounding trees and other assorted foliage. Thick undergrowth made it difficult to access, and the only sign someone inhabited the modest building was a thin wisp of smoke floating from the chimney in a lazy spiral. A narrow stream bubbled nearby, skimming over smooth, white stones as it wound its way through the forest.
Liora sat in the center of the largest room in the house. Her eyes were closed and her body was immobile. When she focused all of her mental energy, she could see beyond the walls of her home. Faint images of the farthest reaches of her land appeared to her. She scanned the perimeter, checking for any signs of weakness which would leave them susceptible to an outside attack.
It was a normal part of her daily routine and she took care not to exhaust herself. The exact amount of time this assigned task had been her responsibility was unknown to her. As weeks turned into months and months turned into years, she had grown more efficient, and she did not have to devote as much of each day to her duties.
Though she was stronger, she had yet to find a way to escape. The solitary building in the forest served as not only her home, but her prison. Liora had no memory of her life before her arrival in the land of Marindal, and while she was allowed to be comfortable, she was displeased with her compulsory servitude. She was determined to one day break free of the forces binding her to the world in which she lived, although the path to liberation hadn’t been revealed.
Her mind reached out to the magical barrier encircling all of Marindal, and she continued to fortify the invisible, impenetrable shield deterring outsiders. When she had almost returned to where she’d started, a noise at the door interrupted her concentration. Her eyelids flew open and she rushed across the room to the house’s sole entrance to greet her visitor.
“Tirani!” She grinned. “I was wondering where you were!”
A squat creature with metallic copper skin crossed the threshold. “This basket is heavy! I didn’t want to spill anything,” she said, referring to the wicker container sitting atop her bulbous, featureless head. One of her seven appendages had been holding the handle for additional balance, and she used it to move the parcel up to the table.
Liora pulled back the lid to examine the contents. “Oh! The bread is still warm!” she said. “Perhaps I’ll have a piece now before I get back to work.”
“You should. It won’t reheat as nicely as the stew which is also in there.” The claws at the end of Tirani’s legs clicked on the wooden floor as she skittered over to a cushion in the corner. She plopped down on top of it and watched Liora prepare a light, simple meal. “How are things today, my dear?”
She sliced both the loaf of bread and a bright red fruit which had been beside it, and layered the pieces with some cheese she had pulled off a shelf. “There’s a disturbance in Sector 17. It’s nothing major. I’ll repair it quickly after I eat.”
“It’s good you caught it before it became a bigger problem.”
She shrugged. “I just do whatever I have to do, I guess.”
“Whatever keeps us safe.”
Liora offered some of her food to her friend, who declined. She took a bite out of her neat little sandwich and glanced out the window. “What’s the news from the castle?”
“Our lord and his troops are away, goodness knows where. We can speak freely.”
“We always do!” She laughed. “He trusts me now. He doesn’t keep as close of an eye on me as he used to.”
“One can never be too careful,” Tirani reminded her.
She finished the sandwich and stored the remainder of the food for later in the day. After brushing the crumbs off the table, she proceeded toward the back of the room. Next to where Tirani had taken her brief respite stood a door leading to the cellar stairs. Liora pushed it open and beckoned for the arthropod to follow her.
