Those had been good days. Difficult, sure, and rather demanding, but I could sleep better back then. As soon as I’d put my head down, I’d drift off to other worlds, and I’d dream of the travels I’d go on, if I ever got the chance. Now, about ten thousand years later, not much had changed in the landscape itself. But the people were different. I was definitely different. Time had a way of doing this to us.
Warping us, molding us to the events that had the greatest impact on our hearts, then making us remember what we’d been like. I almost couldn’t recognize myself anymore. Nethissis had been one of the few creatures who’d made me feel more connected to that younger version of me—her passion for living, her curiosity, her determination and titanic ambition. Her fearlessness… the way her yellow eyes sparkled whenever the Word taught her a new spell… I’d never see that again, and it hurt so much.
Soon enough, I left the Eritopian system behind, with its streaks of pink and orange stardust. Maybe I’d never see it again. I certainly couldn’t exclude the possibility, given what I was about to do. At least I would leave a true legacy behind. Kailani and the girls would carry on with the work of the Word. Some measure of peace was welcome, in these circumstances.
The spell bubble darted through the In-Between, the cosmos unraveling around me with its colorful galaxies and voluminous asteroid fields, its endless rivers of stardust and exploding red stars. I’d modified the interplanetary formula to a new level, and I could now breach the very fabric of time and space with it. It ate up an entire serium battery and about eighty percent of my own energy—which was a lot more than what had been used to additionally power an interplanetary spell, to begin with.
It was also extremely volatile and dangerous, as passing from one dimension to another with this spell bubble was an unstable process. I risked instant disintegration, but I’d had no other choice. All the portals that the witches had built in the In-Between for GASP had security cameras on them, all fitted with red lenses and motion sensors. Using an invisibility spell to get to the Fire Star would’ve landed me in the spotlight, and I wanted everyone to think I was out by the sea, away from the people and not wanting to be disturbed.
This journey had also been a good opportunity to test this spell. Fortunately, it worked, though the pressure of the passage from the In-Between into the Supernatural Dimension had given me a nosebleed. Everything stretched around me, coming apart in swirls of black and light and neon colors, before it all went back to normal.
The spell bubble was now capable of producing a wormhole through which it could pass from one dimension to the next. My heart was in my throat for the briefest of moments, before I saw the fae planets ahead in all their elemental splendor.
I’d made it.
The light around me vibrated nervously, readjusting to its natural form and speed, while I took deep breaths and wiped the blood from my nose. My head hurt, but I would eventually be all right. This wasn’t something that a healing potion could fix, unfortunately. I recognized the pain. I’d felt it before, whenever I’d pushed myself with the Word. It transcended the physical realm.
But I’d made it. Nothing else mattered. I’d made it, and I could use it again. I could finetune its formulas and the mineral quantities; I could add more serium batteries, too… I could perfect this new interplanetary travel spell before sharing it with my apprentices, with Kailani and the rest of GASP.
The Fire Star rose before me, big and bright and beautifully reddish storm clouds gathering over the vast blue oceans, almost covering them completely. I pushed through its atmosphere and steered my way behind the royal palace, where fewer fae could see me. No one was expecting me, anyway.
That quickly became obvious when dozens of palace guards gathered around the bubble spell as it landed between the artesian fire fountains. As the light dissipated around me, I stood slowly with my hands up in a defensive gesture, hoping one of the uniformed fae would recognize me. None did, to my dismay.
“It’s okay,” I said, smiling. “I’m Lumi. Here to see Taeral?”
The guards moved in closer, their hands glowing amber—a threatening display of power. I’d come here unannounced, right outside Sherus and Nuriya’s palace. After everything that had happened, I couldn’t exactly fault the fae for being extra cautious. The fearful looks in their eyes reminded me that the Hermessi trauma was still fresh for most of them.
“Lumi. Of GASP. Come on,” I said, rolling my eyes. There wasn’t much patience left in me, especially since the travel spell had basically drained most of the energy out of my flesh. All I wanted to do was talk to Taeral and sleep for a few hours to recover before leaving again.
“I know you,” one of the guards finally said.
“Perfect timing,” I replied.
He motioned to the others to put their hands down. “She’s a friend of the kingdom,” the young fae with light blue eyes said, then shot me a polite smile. “The prince is in his study, madam. I can take you there, if you’d like.”
“Took you a while to recognize me,” I replied dryly, my nerves frayed and exhausted, sensitive and impatient.
“I haven’t seen you since the Blackout,” he said, his voice faded. “It’s been a long time. Besides, I was under the Hermessi’s influence last year. My mind is still a little blotchy upon returning from the dead, to be honest.”
“Most of us are like that,” another guard chimed in, the atmosphere suddenly relaxing around me. “You’ll have to forgive us.”
“No harm done,” I offered. “If you could just take me to Taeral, that would be much appreciated. Oh, and I’d be most grateful if you tell no one about my presence here. I’m on a secret mission.”
“Discretion advised?” the first guard asked, and I nodded briefly. “So be it,” he added, looking at the others. “You heard the swamp witch. No one can know.”
The guards stood back, watching me quietly as I followed their colleague through the back gardens. Everything here had been rebuilt and regrown, probably with a little bit of magic from the Witches Sanctuary, too, after the Hermessi’s attacks. In the back of my head, I could still hear the Shills roaring and screaming, tearing into the fae…
It was quiet inside the palace. I would’ve liked to say hello to Sherus and Nuriya, but I had an important mission ahead. The guard brought me to the first floor and all the way outside Taeral’s study. He bowed before me. “You’ll find him inside. The prince has been spending most of the day here,” he said slowly. “It’s good to see you again.”
I found his words surprising and raised an eyebrow. “Why? I don’t really know you; you certainly don’t know me.”
“Your appearance is always auspicious in our world. In the darkest of times, we’ve had you to rely on,” the guard replied, hands behind his back. “I never had the chance to thank you personally for everything you did, but if it weren’t for you, and His Highness, the prince, and all your GASP friends… we would’ve all died. So, thank you.”
For a moment, everything that had made me get involved with GASP in the first place came back to me, fresher than ever. The fire in my chest. The determination to do something right, to change the course of history, to save lives and build better worlds. It was for people like him… this guard whose name I didn’t know, whose name I’d likely forget, anyway, given how many people I met on an almost daily basis. This guard was alive because of my work. Because of our desire to do good.
Acantha had died so that he may live, in a way. I wondered whose lives Nethissis had indirectly saved.
“You’re too kind,” I whispered, my eyes stinging.
“It is the least I can do,” he replied, then bowed once more and left me standing outside the study door. My gaze settled on the brass handle, my hand itching to touch and turn it. I was already moments away from doing something that Derek would’ve certainly frowned upon—but all I could do was hope I’d be discreet enough to get away with this.
I went inside, finding Taeral behind his desk, poring o
ver papers. To my surprise, Eira was sitting next to him, double-checking the same papers before rolling them and tying them up with gold thread. Each of the pages was tagged with a series of handwritten numbers, which Eira then recorded in a massive leather-bound logbook.
They both raised their heads, their eyes lighting up at the sight of me.
“Lumi!” Taeral gasped, a broad grin stretching over his handsome face.
Closing the door behind me, I smiled back. “Tae. Good to see you again.” I looked at Eira. “And you, Miss Dorres. It’s a pleasure to find you here, on the Fire Star.”
Eira got up and rushed to hug me. I welcomed her embrace, the physical contact relaxing me, ever so slightly. She was always a sight for sore eyes.
“Well, Eira has become quite a staple of the Fire Star.” Taeral chuckled.
“I take it you two are doing well,” I replied, looking at her, then at him. They both nodded, love glowing between them—an invisible yet powerful bond that could not be denied. The Hermessi had brought these two together in ways they’d never thought possible.
“I’ll be honest, I like it here more,” Eira said, her cheeks blushing pink. “I miss Cerix sometimes, sure, but I’ve found a true home on the Fire Star.”
“The irony of which does not escape me,” Taeral said. “Who’d have thought? A semi-water elemental settling so well in a fire world.”
“It takes water to temper the flames, doesn’t it?” I replied, smiling.
He nodded, as Eira joined him back at the desk. There was another chair in front of it, for guests. Taeral motioned for me to take a seat. “It most certainly does,” he said. But the joy quickly left his expression as he remembered our shared loss. It was easy to tell that he’d been forcing a happy face, and that it was wearing him out. Only now was I seeing his true self. “I’m sorry about Nethi,” he added, sadness darkening the amber pools of his eyes. “I wish we could do something to bring her back.”
“Tae,” Eira cut in, frowning at him.
“I know, I know,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “I can’t use Thieron to revive her, anyway. I don’t have that kind of knowledge.”
“Plus, Death would be furious,” I said. “Thank you for the kind thought, though. I figured you’d have considered it by now, but it wouldn’t be right. We cannot go around reviving people, no matter how much we love them.”
“The natural balance, yes. I know that, too,” he replied, leaning back into his chair. “It’s just so unfair. After everything she went through…”
Eira sighed. “She will be missed, for what it’s worth. I’ve rarely met creatures with strength like hers.”
It became increasingly difficult not to cry again. Whenever I thought of Nethissis, my tear ducts got out of control. Taking several deep breaths, I willed myself back to calm nonetheless.
“How have you two been?” I asked, not yet ready to get down to business.
“Good, actually. I’ve been given more royal duties,” Taeral replied, briefly glancing at the papers before him. “I’m signing invitations to join the fae army. They’re personalized, and Eira’s helping me keep track of them.”
She pointed at the logbook. “This is a list of qualified fae who’ve recently turned eighteen. We’re sending a scroll to each of them. It’ll take us a day or two to get all of them ready.”
“You’re strengthening the Fire Star’s army,” I murmured. “Good. A solid defense is never a bad idea.”
“Yeah. I’m training the new recruits myself, which is why my father thought it would be a good idea for me to sign the invitations.”
“He’s asked me to help,” Eira replied, trying not to smile.
Taeral shrugged. “You’re a wicked soldier. It would be a crime against the Fire Star not to have your input.”
Eira put her hand over his, squeezing gently. “Aw… You flatter me.”
“Just telling it like it is. Why should I be the only fortunate one to behold you every day? I’m sure the recruits will love you just as much.”
“I doubt they’ll love me as much as you do,” she replied.
“You’re right. I love you most. But I won’t mind if they all develop crushes on you. They’ll want to become good soldiers. To impress you. It’s a win-win for the Fire Star,” Taeral said, flashing her a cool grin. It made her laugh lightly.
“Taeral, ever the practical spirit,” I said, my heart growing fonder as I watched them. Only then did I notice the sparkling diamond on Eira’s finger. That was new. A good sign, too. “How did your parents react to your engagement?”
They stared at me for a moment, before they noticed my gaze fixed on Eira’s ring. Taeral took a deep breath. “They were thrilled!”
“That was after Nuriya said, ‘Finally!’, of course,” Eira added.
“Congratulations,” I said. “I hope your union will only bring out the best in each of you.”
“Thank you,” Eira replied, her joy fading again. “We didn’t feel like it was a good time to announce it, given what happened with Nethi. We thought we’d wait for a little while longer.”
“She’d be so happy for you.” I sighed.
“Lumi, now that you’re here, we were actually wondering,” Taeral said, his tone more cautious than usual. “Would you like to officiate our wedding? I couldn’t think of anyone better, especially after what we’ve been through together.”
His question took me by surprise, and I was speechless for a good long minute. “I… I’d be honored,” I finally said, partially thrilled to take over for Ibrahim and Derek for once. They’d been doing most of the weddings in GASP, usually in tandem with one of the local rulers—like the Daughters of Eritopia. “I’ve never performed a marriage ceremony before. I have, however, picked up a few things since I’ve joined GASP.”
“My mother thought we should ask Derek, so the two of them could officiate,” Taeral said. “But I’d like you to do it, instead. You mean a lot to us, Lumi.”
Something grew in my chest, three sizes bigger than before, warmth spreading through my body as I looked at Taeral and Eira. They were truly a life-size cure for any kind of grief, purely by being themselves. That was such a rare and precious quality. Of course I’d join them together before the world and the universe itself.
“You just need to let me know when you set the date,” I said after a long pause. Soon enough, my main objective came back into focus, and I felt compelled to set everything else aside. “I need to talk to you, Taeral.”
“I figured you wouldn’t be in the mood for a casual visit,” he said.
“No one knows I’m here. I’d like it to stay that way,” I replied, eyeing him and Eira carefully.
“We won’t tell anyone,” Eira replied.
“Not even if GASP people ask us?” Taeral wondered, and I shook my head.
“No one. They all think I’m mourning at my summer house. I’ve left enough magic clues around to make it clear that I should not be disturbed,” I said.
“Okay. Got it. How can I help?” he asked.
I looked at Eira for a moment, deciding that I could trust her with this, too. She and Taeral were basically one. If I put my faith in him, I put my faith in Eira, too. “I don’t believe that what happened to Nethissis was an accident. Regardless of what they’re saying over on Visio, I simply cannot accept that.”
“I thought you’d say that,” Taeral muttered, lowering his gaze.
“We said the same thing,” Eira replied, giving me a pained frown. “Something’s not right there.”
“I would like to investigate, but the Aeternae have been very clear about any additional foreign presence on Visio,” I explained. “Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone butting into my business. I want to go there, but I can’t use any of the traditional methods, because they would immediately spot me.”
“They would definitely see the interplanetary spell coming,” Eira said. “The Aeternae have their eyes on the sky at all times.”
Exhaling sharply, I dove
right in. “Exactly. I need a Reaper’s help for this.”
Taeral stilled, his eyes wide. He wasn’t shocked, per se. He seemed surprised that I’d asked so quickly, without easing him into it more. I could tell he’d expected me to ask, for I was one of the very few people who knew about his… extracurricular activities since the Hermessi apocalypse had been thwarted.
“I was hoping you might be able to find me a Reaper to take me to Visio, unseen, undetected,” I continued.
“I’ve been using Thieron to quietly observe the Reapers around here and in Eritopia,” Taeral said. “But I haven’t let anyone see me. You want me to just walk up to one of them and ask for help? They’re loyal drones, Lumi. They won’t just say, ‘Yeah, sure, let’s do this.’”
For the past few months, Taeral had been learning to use Thieron better. He’d told me a few weeks back during one of our post-Hermessi follow-up meetings that he’d figured out how to make himself invisible to other Reapers, and he’d spent nights treading the In-Between with them, eavesdropping on conversations and the few spells they cast, depending on their assignments. Not all Reapers handled reaping, exclusively. Some were given other, so-called administrative tasks, though Taeral had never gone into detail about them. He’d picked up a few death spells along the way, too—nothing too flashy or powerful, given that he was limited as a living being, but good enough for him to practice, since he was destined to become a Reaper once his life was over.
He could move from one planet to another, but only on more local levels, within the same solar system, mostly. He could hide and reveal himself to the living, the dead, and those in between alike. He could even bind spirits to a certain place using a string of runes he’d picked up from the other Reapers. He could also reveal Reapers in his proximity, as well as spirits and ghouls, even when the latter did not want to be found.
Only Eira and I knew about it, since Death would’ve blown a fuse if she ever found out. As far as she and the other Reapers were concerned, Taeral was merely safeguarding Thieron, waiting for Death’s release in order to return it to her.
A Shade of Vampire 79: A Game of Death Page 5
