by Ali Winters
Silas picked up the last book and flipped through it until he came to a passage about the Underworld. He stared at it for several long minutes, then ripped it from the binding and turned it to ash.
The flames danced in his palm, and he thought back to what the Moirai had said. He was to prepare his successor. He sneered down at the smoldering embers and crushed them in his hand. Nothing but black ash remained when he opened his hand again. Small pieces fell from his grip, floating to the stone floor.
There was not a Guardian alive who could hold a fraction of his powers. Caspian was close. Yet the power he would need to take on would rip him apart from the inside out, slowly and painfully, until there was nothing left. One thread of his existence at a time until he was destroyed, leaving an imbalance in the world that could not be righted. He’d not been created to hold so much power.
The Moirai were convinced that this girl, born a Watcher, was meant to not only become a Guardian, which in itself seemed impossible, but was supposed to hold his powers.
Silas scoffed. Oh, she was powerful, he would admit that much, but he doubted that she could, in anyway, be as strong as she needed to be.
Then there was the question of her opposite. If Nivian were to become the next Fate Keeper, who would take Yeva’s place? For Yeva was his and he could not balance the power out with another. There were so many unanswered questions left. How would he transfer his powers if he were gone? Nivian’s opposite must be in place before she could take on his role. Did the Moirai have a plan for that as well? One thing he did know was that it would not be Caspian.
Silas closed his eyes and swallowed, a rock forming in the pit of his stomach.
Unless he had gambled away the soul of the one who would belong to her. He had made a grave error.
With each passing second, the responsibilities heaved upon his shoulders grew heavier and heavier. There would be time—he had to keep reminding himself of that.
He brushed the soot from his hand onto his cloak and sat the book down atop the stack, and looked at what he had done. Ash littered the ground at his feet and covered the edges of his cloak, as it brushed along the stone. Silas turned from the pile, ready to put some distance between him and what he had done. He stopped when a small book clattered to the ground, the sound echoing through the empty room.
Silas turned on it with a glare. Bending down, he scooped it up. The Either. He frowned. It was a strange title that made little sense. Surely it could not be a book about choices or comparisons. Silas could not recall reading the small tome or where it had even come from.
He turned it over in his hands and opened the binding. The fresh leather creaked in protest, as though it had never been opened.
The heavy stone doors flew open. Silas jerked his head up as Caspian stormed in, their gazes snagged on each other’s. Caspian crossed the room in a few short strides. His anger nearly palpable on Silas’s tongue.
Silas set the book down on the stack. He would scan it later and destroy what he needed to.
“What happened over the last several hours?” Caspian demanded.
Silas blinked at the anger rolling off of him in waves, then he asked, in the most calm and casual voice he could muster, “What do you mean?”
Caspian’s face fell, stupefied at his response. “W-what? You cannot be serious.” His shoulders slumped as he rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “Silas, are you saying that you did not notice a thing.”
“Nothing.”
His Second took in a deep breath and blew it out. “The others might not be powerful enough to notice if the head Guardian goes missing from all known realms for several hours.” Each word came slow and measured, but Silas didn’t miss the barely contained fury dancing behind them. “But if you remember, you made me powerful enough to sense it. This was nothing like when you hide, there was a complete void. So tell me—” Caspian dropped his arm back to his side and stared Silas dead in the eye. “Where have you been?”
Silas stayed quiet for a long moment. He hadn’t thought about the absence of his power when he’d left. The two men met each other’s gazes in a silent battle of wills, drawn out between them like a vast chasm.
“Where were you?” Caspian nearly shouted this time, his raised voice snapped Silas from his trance.
Silas had never had to assert his authority on him, he’d never wanted to. Pretending to be superior because of his position was an unpleasant thought, and he hated it. But there was too much that must be done, must be kept secret, and he, alone, had to carry the burden.
His distaste for such an attitude did not matter, and so he donned the mask because it was necessary. Silas lifted his chin a fraction and said, “Mind your place, Caspian. It is you who answers to me, not the other way around.”
Caspian paled. It was then that Silas could almost feel a change throughout all of G.R.I.M.
He had asserted his authority over every last Guardian in only a few words. Now they were no longer equals, but they were his underlings. His Reaplings. And his word was law.
“Silas…” Caspian started. He dipped his head in the beginnings of a bow.
But Silas couldn’t take whatever he was about to say. “Now, if that is all, there is another task for you.”
He turned and strode toward the hidden room where Nivian lay, and Caspian’s footsteps followed obediently behind. He stopped along the back wall and glanced over his shoulder at the other man. Caspian stared straight ahead, as if he could see Nivian waiting on the other side, where they’d left her.
Silas let him have his thoughts but said softly, “No one outside of this room is to know about what we do on the other side of this wall.”
Caspian faced him, taking in the quiet threat of those words.
Silas placed his hand against the wall and pushed. A section fell away and the fire along the bottom edges burst into life. It seemed days ago since they’d last been here, but, in fact, it had only been hours. Both men stepped inside, and Silas closed the room off behind them.
“What are we doing here?”
“We will attempt something that has never been done before. I do not know if it will work, but that is a chance we will have to take.”
Caspian furrowed his brows, his frown deepening. “I do not understand.”
Now would come the tricky part. The part where he must say enough to satisfy his Second, but also make it seem as if it were an idea he hatched out of curiosity and not an order given by the Moirai.
Silas motioned to Nivian. “I would like to try something with her.”
A look of horror distorted Caspian’s face, his chest rose and fell faster, breath shallow. “No… please. Have we not already I done enough to her? I have taken her life… what more can be done?”
Silas held up a hand. “Please, calm yourself.” He sent a quick glance toward Nivian. “I would think you would be happy with what we are about to attempt.”
Caspian stilled.
When Silas saw that Caspian would not make any further protest, he spun and crossed to the altar. He ran a hand over her head. Her clothes were still soaked with river water. For a long moment, he waited, watching her until Caspian joined him at his side.
With a wave of his hand, Nivian’s clothes incinerated. Flame consuming them as it washed over her from her head to her feet, but not scorching her. Silas reached down and picked up the chalice, positioning himself at Nivian’s side. He slid his right arm under her neck and lifted until her head lulled back.
“What are you doing?” Caspian’s voice cracked.
Silas didn’t answer, only pressed the rim of the chalice to her lips, using it to open her mouth just slightly. He angled the cup and let a few drops flow past her lips. It was slow and tedious but nothing short of life could make it easier. When he managed to get enough into her, he sat the chalice down and angled her chin up, making sure the Waters of Soyala were able to become part of her.
Silas lay her back down and tried to hide his uncertainty. He had n
o idea what the ceremony would be like.
Caspian had stepped forward and brushed the back of his knuckle over her cheek.
“What will we do to her?” he asked quietly.
There was no reason to keep him in the dark any longer. It hurt too much to see the heartbreak his friend was going through. He could not imagine that pain.
“There is a chance she could live again.”
“That is impossible, you know that. She has been reaped,” Caspian snarled.
“Yes, indeed she has,” Silas said, with infinite patience. “But with your help, she could live again.”
He wasn’t sure what response he had expected to that, but Caspian only looked down at the girl as if he hadn’t heard. As if he hadn’t been furious with him seconds before.
“She is to become a Dark Guardian.”
Caspian’s hand froze, his breathing halted. “What?” he croaked.
“I told you we would attempt to do something never done before. You must have noticed something strange about her powers in all the time you’ve spent with her.”
His Second nodded.
“It is because she was never meant to be a Watcher. Her life energy is that of a Guardian.”
“Why did you not just tell me? Is this what you meant when you said there was a chance—” he trailed off as doubt edged into his words.
“I thought you would want this,” Silas offered. “This ceremony will have a higher chance of success with your assistance. Are you willing to try?”
“Yes, but—”
That was all he needed to hear. “I will tell you more later, if you still wish it.” Silas pulled out her watch, still alight with her power and molten gold in his hand. “But we must start the ceremony now, while her life force is still strong enough. Please stand at the foot of the altar.”
Caspian did as instructed and placed his hands on her ankles.
Silas wove his hand through the air above the watch and called forth her soul first. He let his eyes slide closed and breathed deeply. Then he began to speak. Words formed on his lips, words ancient and raw, words of the old gods. He had memorized them before he burned the pages as Hades demanded, reciting them in his mind over and over as the pages became ash. Each one held a tangible power that filled the room.
He opened his eyes and, for a long painful second, nothing seemed to happen.
Silas opened his mouth to start again but stopped when the smallest spark rose from the watch. It grew, bright and blinding. Her soul…
It wove and danced though the air, guided by Silas’s hand. He set the watch atop her chest and raised his other hand, letting his power flow over her, creating a shield that covered her body. Caspian echoed his movements, enforcing the barrier.
Her soul spread out like a blanket and lowered until it hovered an inch above her body. The two Guardians lowered the shield, guiding her soul to where it belonged. It pushed and writhed against them, wanted to go back to the Underworld, to where it should go, just as every river flowed toward the sea. After a long moment, it sank, becoming one with her body again.
That was the easy part. If they couldn’t get her life force to return then her soul would wither and die.
Silas motioned with one hand, calling to her life force. The thread rose from the watch as easy as they all did. It hovered, swaying, waiting for a command. He flicked his wrist, twitched his fingers, and the life force slithered over Nivian’s still form like a snake hunting prey. Her life force leaped, bucking against the shield they created. Her soul had been nothing compared to the strength of this.
Silas could feel a bead of sweat form on his brow. The strain of using his power to keep it near her quickly drained him. No doubt Caspian also felt it too.
It stilled, then turned black as it dove for her heart.
He continued chanting as black lines formed across her exposed flesh. A pulse of power burst from her, pushing on the shield. He nearly lost control. From the corner of his eye, he could see Caspian stumble slightly, jerking forward.
Sweat dripped down his brow as he strained to hold the warring powers in check. They needed to blend with her, needed to become part of her again as she was reborn.
Nivian’s eyes flew open, clouded and unseeing, her dried lips parted. Her hands clutched at her chest, clawing and scratching. Red lines, dotted with tiny beads of blood, formed where her nails dug into her skin. Nivian gasped as her back arched, then a scream ripped its way from her throat, piercing the air.
Silas tried to reach out toward her, to keep her from hurting herself, but the continued pulsing of her life force warring within her, trying to escape, was too much.
It was unlike any scream he’d ever heard before. So full of pain and agony. As if she were dying again and again, a thousand times over.
All he could do was watch. Her dark eyes met his, seeming to stare through him. She blinked, and slowly a dot of white… No, a pale blue, the color of deep, arctic ice, appeared in her irises. It spread like frost until it consumed every spot of warm brown.
Finally, her voice faded, leaving the silence that followed almost deafening. Nivian collapsed back onto the smooth surface of the altar and went still. No twitch or breath stirred her.
Silas frowned down upon her face. What little color she had from life faded, making her even more corpse like. Her sun kissed skin paled as though she’d never seen the sun.
What happened to Caspian, falling for her, was something all Guardians were susceptible to. He would have to prevent her from falling into that trap once she awoke… if she awoke at all.
Silas waved a hand over her forehead then pressed his fingertips to her temples and sent in the full force of his powers.
He searched and probed as he untangled the lingering memories and feelings of her previous life. They must be sealed away, shut off. If she knew what had happened to her, that she’d been reaped and made into a Guardian, she might do something to put them all at risk… perhaps even do something that would forever destroy the balance of life and death.
It was easier to block them off to dissolve over time than he had expected. At last, he reached the lingering moments of her death. He shroud them in darkness, but they pulsed and cut at the shield. Silas gritted his teeth as he bore down, creating a wall around them. Perhaps, in time, they too would dissolve, but for now they must remain buried.
Silas started to pull back but stopped. Her heart must also be shielded.
His eyes flicked to Caspian, who remained standing still as a statue at her feet, clutching at his chest and staring wide eyed at her face.
Guilt seeped in and churned his stomach. He would make Nivian forget him, forget her love, and everything she had felt for him. Remembering anything, feeling anything, would risk the barrier on her memories to crumble.
Silas sent his powers surging toward her heart. He built up a barrier, not one to keep her from feeling, but one just strong enough to temper her emotions. The balance would remain the forefront of her existence.
She must be ready for that day when she would have to do what was needed. When he finished, Silas withdrew his powers. His gaze flicked to Caspian, once, and guilt gripped at his heart. He would have to lie to the man, as much as it pained him. He couldn’t tell him that he stole every part of her from him.
Nivian twitched, then gasped, her eyes flying open again. Pale blue irises stared up at him, full of anger, and all he could do was stare back.
NIVIAN
LIGHT BLINDED HER as she struggled to draw breath. Then her lungs mercifully remembered how to work, and she pulled in a dry and painful breath. Black filled the edges of her consciousness, and she struggled to hold on to the fragile thread keeping her tethered to the waking world.
There was too much happening for her mind to process. Her insides felt as though she were being compressed into something far too small to contain herself—her powers—and at the same time, the unbearable feeling of being stretched too thin.
She would snap if it
did not ease.
A scream filled the air. Strange but close. So close.
Could that cry belong to her? The ache of the sound echoed the shattered pieces of who she was, echoed the pain she felt at being shredded from the inside out.
Faces flashed before her mind’s eye, faces she knew, faces she cared about. Her family. She reached for their names, wanting to keep them close to ground her. But each time she nearly identified one, it was snatched away.
Then all she had were the faces.
Then those, too, vanished, as darkness fell over them.
Nivian tried to speak, to call out, but her body refused to obey. She blinked, and the man in the black cloak, smiling at her, cracked and shattered into dust. She sought dozens of other faces, and those too vanished. Her heart longed for the names and memories of them, and yet… that connection frayed, thread by thread. She was losing her grip, holding on to sand with a tight fist. Each memory like a grain of sand escaping her hold.
Everything she had ever felt, everything she held dear, was being ripped from her violently, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She swallowed, her throat burning as if it were on fire. Warmth bloomed in her chest. It was the only thing left, the only thing that held a spark of familiarity.
Nivian clung to it and dove as she felt herself spinning out of control. The power surrounded her, a sparkling gold fading into the blackest night with countless stars as the only light.
The power coiled around her, wrapping around her veins, her heart, the marrow of her bones, snapping and crackling with energy. A darkness that felt like light. Something that belonged to her, and she to it.
She blinked. Once. Twice. And all she could see was the shadow of a man hovering over her, gray eyes piercing down to her very soul.
They were not eyes she recognized.
They were those of something that filled her with anger. The wash of ice cold water all around her came rushing back in a violent wave. Dark coal black eyes. The pain of drowning.
