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My eyes are locked on the ledge, waiting to feel something… Nothing but satisfaction comes. Suddenly, my father’s voice cuts through the death hanging in the air. “I find much more joy when I can devour their souls and watch their weak vessels turn to ash. But death is death.”
When Whiro consumes—feeds from—a Fae, all that is left is a pile of ash at his feet. He doesn’t need to feed, it’s more because he can. If one simply dies with their soul intact, their body remains. Unlike the Corrupted who remain in the Court of Ashes, guarding the court we left from until Whiro needs to use them. They walk amongst the deserted land with souls that are tainted. Poisoned. A stab to the heart will disintegrate them.
A guttural rumble of approval catches in my ears from behind. It draws my gaze to my father—an entity made solely for death and destruction—who turns on his heel before I feel the pull of his power.
“Come,” he commands as he continues walking along a very narrow path. Both sides are encased by a sea of thick, smothering fog, hiding the never-ending void beneath it.
Turning to follow, I obey.
CHAPTER TWO
Emma
The path we silently walk along looks like it’s floating above a forbidding, dusky sea. Gehendra is what most would imagine the deserted depths of death to be like. A vicious misery that clings to the mountains, with a lifeless chill that hums no song of life. Just a broken music box that will never play again. And like the Court of Ashes, there is no stream of air to catch the locks of my hair in its current. The whole realm ceases to breathe.
A skittering echo grates behind me as the ghoul follows from a mindful distance. I keep my steps equal to Whiro’s as I swivel my head, noticing how the umbra of the sky matches the deadly hue of the black blood running through my veins. A shadowed moon hangs above, with a dim reddish glow spilling from its edges. It looks like it’s breathing fire into the realm, but no warmth is offered. The power slithering within my body masks the chilly air, making me numb to it as white puffs billow out of my nose with every exhale.
There are many jagged stone bridges, all crossing over each other from above and interconnecting with other parts of Whiro’s castle. Towering spires rise so high, it looks like they are piercing the moon to make it bleed crimson. Broken mountains are scattered across the distance, suspended on the smog of midnight that swirls along the entire bottom of this realm.
With a subtle breath in, my nose crinkles as a sliver of my curiosity piques. The scent of what I know Death smells like would be that of the Court of Ashes: something foul, or rotten. Even though there is still a constant smell of smoke with ashes dangling in the air, there’s also an undertone of something cloying mixed with it. Borderline sweet, with a tinge of bitterness.
“What did you feel when you killed the Fae?” Whiro’s voice cuts through my thoughts as if he meant to startle me, but it won’t work with this newfound power settled into my soul. I’m too unbothered to be scared. And this power stops him from invading my mind, because it allows me to be strong enough to keep a shield in place that he can’t penetrate.
“Nothing,” I say without hesitation as I continue to keep pace with him.
My eyes zero in on the back of his head as it slightly nods. “Do you wish to know why he was sentenced to die?”
I keep my feet steady on the deathtrap of a bridge, while specks of stone fall off into the void below with the vibration of each step. “Does it matter? Death is death, after all,” I speak calmly to his back, repeating the words he said earlier as we keep trudging forward.
I’m unsure of where he is leading me, but we are approaching the mouth of a mountain brushed with the night sky. The jagged peaks stretch across the land that is attached to the towering castle looming hauntingly above. The same castle I’ve been kept in, and I am just realizing that if one can’t use shadows to travel, the only way in is up the steep, uneven steps. They are chipped so badly that they look one breath away from crumbling to nothing. They have no railing, no wall, and are the same width as these bridges: wide enough for a single body. If you fall and die before you reach the main entrance, then so be it.
Whiro stops abruptly and twists to drag his eyes over me. I halt my steps, keeping my lips sealed together as I wait. He assesses the attire I’m provided here, which is a long, raven-colored dress tunic with dual slits on the sides that kiss my hipbone. Matching black leathers hug my legs with boots to finish it off. My brown hair has been woven into twin braids that fall against the back of my shoulder blades to keep unruly strands from covering my face.
Mostly, it’s to keep them from covering the scars embedded around my neck. A reminder of a life I lived before, and one that I secretly try to remember more of. The part where my heart found those to cherish. But every time I try to hang onto a memory, the hellish whispers drag me back into the dark. I don’t allow my thoughts to convey in my void eyes, shielding myself from my father’s critical stare.
Without a word, he spins on his heel and continues taking fluid steps. I’ve noticed over the time span I have been here that he’s softened towards me. Only slightly, because he would still devour my soul without a second thought. But I’ve pleased him enough to remain breathing for another day. Although, a tinge of acid burns in the back of my throat that there may be a reason for all the tasks he’s had me complete. There is something that has burrowed under my skin that makes me question his actions towards me, yet I’m clueless about them.
He guides me through a series of tunnels once we reach the mountain, swallowing us whole as it blocks the semblance of the crimson haze that was given by the devilish moon. Dark, glistening spikes are scattered along the top, like cemented icicles that could kill in one strike if severed. The musty scent of wet, old stone fills the air as I watch a crystal droplet slide off the tip of a spike and splash against the earth.
Various clicking sounds merge and echo out from a tunnel to my left. Boisterous grunts funnel out, accompanying the dark silhouettes of hunched ghouls shuffling towards us. Whiro and I keep moving as they become motionless when they notice our presence. One smacks another in the chest before they lower on their haunches as we pass.
Before Whiro brought me out of the tower, he told me about the ghouls, and how there are no secrets between them. The news from another travels at lightning speed as if they share one mind. So, I find my chin raising an inch higher, my shoulders squaring out just slightly, knowing they heard of my shared power with their master. With their God. And that they know what I’m capable of.
Whiro pays no mind to them as he takes a right and leads me down a wide staircase. There are no lanterns or torches lit to offer the soft glow that blankets the tunnel, and my curiosity piques again when I notice the source of the light streams from where we are headed. Halfway down the steps, a strong aroma of jasmine washes over me. The floral scent overwhelms my senses to the point of suffocation.
The heel of my boot barely touches the final step and I pause, completely unsure of what my cold eyes are seeing. There’s a cadence hovering in the air and it feels like…life. Like a distant memory of wind dancing through my hair as I fly under a sea of stars with strong arms wrapped around me. Like the first breath when you break through the water. Of racing hearts and heated skin.
And for the first time since honing this cursed power and becoming this weapon, a tremble skates down my spine. A feeling that I’m not used to, that I shouldn’t experience anymore. But also caring about how it makes me feel, which fucking concerns me.
There are hundreds of wide steps winding around in a circle on the outer edge of a silver pool, spiraling up along the perimeter of the mountain. And in the middle of it all is a waterfall streaming from above in the center.
Craning my head back, I drag my eyes up to towering heights. It’s as if the mountain was completely carved out, hollowed to an inch of its life. A shell of monstrosity. The sheer flowing water that moves silently in the middle comes from…nowhere. The peak of the mountain opens to a small circle of light with no connection; it just exists.
There are brushes of little white jasmine flowers wrapping around the cracked pillars that stand tall along the edge of the staircase. Flowers that are in full bloom and thriving in the realm of death. Standing out so brightly against the black, splintered curve of each pillar.
Suddenly, an image flashes of blinding silver eyes looking at me through a midnight sky. There’s a dimple attached to a pure smile that causes my breath to hitch as my gaze remains fixed on the flowers. A glimpse of light in a world of darkness.
I shake my head to clear away the memory that felt like lips of warmth that kissed my heart. Whiro stops at the bottom of the platform, right where the stone and water meet. I calmly approach him. He keeps his back to me, staring out at the iridescent liquid filling the entire expanse of the cave.
