by Jamie Magee
“My king stands with the woman who was made of his soul and wishes the same for you. He honors your war.”
“Honors, but does not stand up.”
I could tell he wanted to hit me, but he had too much respect for me, for some odd reason, to let that happen. “My king wants nothing more than for you to prevail. This is not the first act he has committed to aid you.”
“My life,” I breathed, “in The Realm.” Willow told me about the scent of mint. She meant this. I knew she did.
Rasp nodded once.
“Am I going to remember this?”
“Not if you’re dead. You’re already late.”
That was promising.
He kept staring at me, and through the pain I realized he was still waiting on permission.
“Rasp, the First of the King of Anger, I would be honored for you to take me home—and by home, I mean Willow’s side.”
He leered. “I can’t help you there.” He braced his arm around mine, and the next thing I saw was pristine blue water.
It was utterly silent. I suppose I expected millions of souls to be lined up around this body of water. I expected to feel everyone’s emotion slamming into me. But there was no one. No Willow.
I couldn’t see past the water, and behind me was nothing more than the waterfall that was moving in the wrong direction. What little trust I had for Rasp vanished at that moment.
“Where did you take me?”
“Home.”
“Where are my warriors? My people? What the hell have you done with Willow?”
He crossed his bulging arms and let his icy eyes scan the water. “The Creator often only allows you to see what he needs you to see.”
“Speaking for him now, too?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Not my gig to spit out pretty words. I don’t know what’s wrong with your eyes. But I find it odd you asked about your warriors before your woman.”
That was the wrong thing to say to me. I pulled back my shoulders as I glared at him. “You find it odd that I was searching for a way to protect her, that I was searching for a way to protect everyone she cares about. That because of this jacked up war, the only instinct I can have is to protect her, first and foremost.”
“I’m not arguing semantics with you. Do you feel her or not?”
I furrowed my brow. “Always.” That wasn’t some manly claim. I did always feel her, and right now she was scared and confused. “What the hell is going on, man? What stake do you or the King of Anger have in this ceremony?”
“We dig your girl. Honored you chose her.”
“You dig my girl?”
“Selective hearing. That’s an issue for you.”
“How do you know her? How do you know anything about us?”
“Mutual association.”
“That helps.”
He shrugged his shoulder once more.
“Are you the ones messing with her? The reason her insights were stripped, then you decided to take her down another notch by stripping her anger—something she needs?”
“Very few adore anger more than me, but your girl had a wicked overdose. This deal right here,” he said, nodding to the water, which was littered with what looked like diamonds, “would have never happened if she didn’t come out of her shell.”
“So you did put her through hell,” I growled. “Did the thought cross your mind to just tell her to calm down? To help her instead of stripping her?”
“Not my mind. I follow orders, but I know our influence has to be limited at best. We are at war, too, Sovereign.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Premature, I suppose. You do have to walk this line and take out Donalt before that title is given.”
“I’m a king of no one.” Why did I say that? I had already found hope for that title. It was him. I didn’t trust him completely and was too out of sorts to use my insights. I felt all too human at that moment.
Those icy eyes glanced around the vacant shore once more. “Sure about that? I have a feeling you have been a king for a while.”
“No. I have been a soldier in a war on darkness. Oddly, I have a feeling if you have your way, I will be switching teams before long.” Irrational thoughts were slamming into me. I was trying to count kings and emotions, trying to figure out if the King of Anger was one that must fall as well. I regretted my last words when I remembered Willow telling me she was indebted to Vade. Right as I went to take my words back, Rasp spoke over me.
“My way doesn’t count. The Creator’s does. And by the way, you only rule what you create.” He winked at me. Winked! “So don’t create evil, and you’ll do just fine.”
“You are confirming that if I take Donalt down, I’ll take his reign.”
“Not my words.”
“Why has Willow’s scent changed? Why does she now smell of lavender?”
“You tell me, dream warrior. The scents are given as a crest to represent the way the sovereign conquered his or her emotion.”
Lavender. The scent that amplified dreams.
“I conquered fear in a dream…” Rather, I killed four marks in The Realm, the land of dreams.
He let a vague smile come to him. “I heard that you did make your name in The Realm, the dream plane, but I also heard you found your soul in your dreams. That foundation gave you the courage to…let her go.”
My eyes grew wide, and I felt all too small at that moment. I had only said that aloud to Willow, and we were all alone in that moment. When I was a Phoenix, I saw the King of Anger as a fierce ruler that had gained honorable respect. I saw him as mortal—well, as mortal as I was at that moment. Rasp had given me a reason to see him more so as a God, all knowing and all seeing.
“They don’t see the intimate moments, if that is what you are worked up about,” Rasp said in an amused tone.
“They?”
He nodded once. “I told you, the King of Anger is with the woman who was made of his soul and wishes the same for you.”
I was putting it together. I don’t know how I was, but I was. That Mazing girl was obviously a First as well, and she carried the scent of honey, what my Willow had at one time smelled like.
“What king did Willow descend from? Is she set to take down a line she was born from?” That would not make any ascension an easy one.
If that were the case, Willow and I were in way over our heads. If Willow had unknowingly struck the leader of her line, then I would need every Rampart Warrior—no, make that every warrior known to man to defend her.
Rasp looked above him as if he were listening intently to someone or something. He smiled wryly. “Queen. She descended from a queen, and no, she is not set to challenge her. Your battle is what you know. Donalt.”
He listened once more as his brow furrowed and he studied me.
“You fear death, Sovereign? Or shall I say, warrior? But life is eternal. The means of the form you are in should matter not if your soul is intact.”
I shook my head in frustration. “I just wanted to give her bliss.”
“Then go,” Rasp said with a nod to the water’s edge. “Walk.”
I took one step out into the water, not knowing what to expect.
Chapter Eighteen
~ Willow ~
The burn—it was excruciating, so numbing that it stole my breath. And I wasn’t even talking about the flames. I was talking about the sharp image in my mind of Skylynn with her arms around Landen, vanishing from my sight. Everyone started scrambling to figure out what to do. I gathered from Justus that Landen had sent out a command to protect that barrier to all of his soldiers seconds before he vanished.
I couldn’t hear their words, but I could read the simple commands on their lips: move, run, hide. Somewhere in that chaos, I heard Skylynn in my head. Heard her tell me she was protecting Landen. That if Aden died, he did. That he would have drowned. He would be back and for me to hold on. I couldn’t figure out why Aden was in danger in the first place.
<
br /> I missed rage. Because right then, I had every reason to be wrathful. Downright evil. His ex-girlfriend had literally jerked him away as we were preparing to walk down this supernatural aisle. I was just hurt. Scared. The last time she ripped him from my side, Phoenix had to save me, and in the long run, he’d failed. My insights were stripped.
I wanted relief from this burn in my chest, but I was too stubborn to rush for it. I had no reason to. Landen wasn’t there.
At that moment, I felt a tiny hand slid into mine. I looked down to see Libby there. Everyone else had vanished from my sight.
“What’s going on?” I breathed.
“You’re hot, Willow. Swim. It’s fun,” she said as she walked forward, pulling me behind her. I reached my other hand to my ear, trying to understand what had happened to restore my hearing, why her voice was so clear right now. It sounded downright angelic.
“Where is everyone, Libby?”
She looked up at me like I was crazy but kept walking.
The distance between where we were and the shore of the water was vast, but each step we took propelled us across the grounds. Three steps, and we were there.
“Swim.”
She walked up the shore with me in hand, right to the shore that Landen had told me no one could reach, the shore that has a supernatural barrier protecting it.
I looked in every direction, only seeing water. Now behind Libby and me was a waterfall that was flowing in the wrong direction.
“Libby,” I gasped, pulling her to me.
She swayed out of my embrace. “Not me, you. Swim.”
I clasped my chest, feeling the burn. “I can’t leave you here. Something wicked is happening.”
“I’m not here, though.”
I quickly looked down at her and squeezed her hand, assuring myself she was real.
“You can’t use me or anyone else as a reason not to follow your path.”
“I’m not using you. I’m protecting you.”
“Protect me by leading me. Show me there is nothing to fear.”
Right then, she vanished and the only sound was the water lapping at my feet. Heaving breaths escaped my body. I backed up, but the waterfall behind me was so cold that it was hot. I couldn’t stand it.
I didn’t understand what I was supposed to do, or how. But I was craving that water. I was craving relief.
Trembling, I stepped forward and slowly started to move into the calm waters that literally bore no temperature. I could barely feel the water that rose to my knees.
The flashbacks raged out then. I remembered stepping into that pool of water that Nathanial led me through, the time I was trapped in my mind. Then I was eager. I wanted to get back to Landen. I wanted to save everyone. Now, like all the other flashbacks, I felt terror. I felt what I should have overcome or even faced then—I felt it raw.
All at once, the water started to climb over me and I felt that same sensation now as I did then. The water was freezing, but instead of letting it carry me down or to some other form of life, I fought it this time. I fought like hell itself was on my heels.
I thrashed through the water, seeing hope. There was a shore not far from me now. I would swear it had magically appeared. I swallowed my terror and fought the water to get there. What were calm waters was now massive waves that were beating my body to a pulp. The burn of the flames was gone, but I barely noticed that relief. I was fighting for air. For life. It felt like the water itself was pulling me deeper.
I don’t know how I did it, but I made it to that shore, gasping and coughing up water as I crawled across that sandy bank.
Before I could gauge my surroundings, I heard a sound that could only belong to one animal. I looked up in dismay to see a horse neighing as it reared up on its back legs just feet from me. It was a gorgeous animal, solid black with a long, flowing mane and tail.
I had made it to some kind of island. Maybe not even that; a sand dune, maybe. There was water all around us, but at least a stretch of five hundred feet was dry land. Rocks outlined one side, making me feel like I was in a bowl. I couldn’t see anything past it; the water and the sun were too bright. The horse kept backing up, and then neighing. I brought my hand to my eyes to block the sun, and when I did I could see another one in the distance calling out to this one. From where I was, it looked like it was standing on the water, but I knew it had to be shallow water. Land must be behind the distant one, and it was trying to get the overly stressed out horse with me to follow it.
The horse’s hooves were making half-moons in the sand. Each time he stomped, I saw a nightmare flash in my mind’s eye. I saw every time I had faced fears on the night of the new moon, and oddly, as soon as that would flash, I would see the dream I had right after that. I would see Landen washing the fear away.
“Mighty fine mare. Don’t you agree?”
I jumped at the sound of a new voice. Sitting in a lounge chair on the sand in khaki pants, a button up Oxford, and a sun hat was an old man who oddly reminded me of Mark Twain. In his hand was a stick and a knife. He was carving away on that stick like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I knew I couldn’t be far from solid land if he was here.
“How do I get back to the Radiance?”
“You’re in it,” he said, raising his hands and winking at me. “Have a seat. Dry off.” He nodded to another lounge chair next to him.
“I have to figure out where I am. I’m confused. Do you know who I am?”
He gave me a knowing glance. Of course he knew who I was.
“Look, my family was already stressed, then I disappeared. I have to figure out why. Is that land over there?”
“Depends on the time of the year,” he said, moving the chair he wanted me to sit in again.
I gave in. I was out of breath. Alone. Confused and scared. For all I knew, I was having yet another psychotic break and this was some wicked dream.
I rubbed my hand across my chest, still feeling an aching burn there as I kept my eyes on that mare and made my way to sit next to the Mark Twain look-a-like.
“What are you doing out here on this sand dune?”
“Watching my mare.”
“She’s yours?”
“Of course.” I could see the pride in his eyes.
I was from the south in the dimension I was raised in; he was not the first horse lover I’d met.
“Do you often take your horses to the beach?” I asked blankly.
The mare was now soaked with sweat, glistening in the sun. She was wearing herself down. She looked confused and even more lost than I felt. As the other horse called out to her, she barely moved her ears to acknowledge it. She kept her slow pace, clearly forgetting what direction she was trying to go in.
“Who am I to banish her free will? She’s here by choice.”
I glanced around, trying to figure out what would have even drawn a horse to come out here. There was no grass. She didn’t fit the scene at all. She was this beautiful, dark, wild animal centered in absolute pristine light. It was even disorienting for me to sit here.
“Right, but she’s scared.”
“She’s fighting.”
“Are we looking at the same horse?” I asked, not believing I was having this conversation right now.
“There is only one.”
Mark Twain-look-alike was senile. Could he not see the one on the shore?
As the other horse started to run across the shoreline, the one next to us came to life and jolted backward, neighing hysterically. She kept at it until the one on the shore halted and began to walk, then fell into a wary graze.
The one next to us started to edge toward the shallow water that would lead her to dry, stable land. She just barely stepped in the water when the other one picked up a canter and started terrifying the one next to us again.
“Look, man, she needs help. The other horse is scaring her. She wants to go on shore.”
“I imagine she does. Everything she needs to survive is on th
at land.”
I pulled my hands to shield my eyes so I could see the shore. From where I sat, everything looked like water. In the distance, I told myself I saw lush grass; where it led to was anyone’s guess. It almost felt like the only life in the entire universe was me, Mark Twain, and these two horses.
I felt water rush over my feet and looked down. This sand dune wasn’t going to last much longer. That mare better find herself some courage. Hell, if I knew anything about horses, I might dare to ride her across the water, use her to find my own way back.
I squinted my eyes a few times as I glanced again at the water. What Landen called diamonds in the water was all around me, giving me an unwanted reflective surface. My green eyes and long, dark, wayward hair peered back at me, weak and afraid. The image sickened me.
“How about you help me and your horse get to stable ground?” I said with an obvious tremble.
“You have an issue with your ego, too?”
His words shot through me like a jagged bullet. My eyes rose to meet his. The blinding light around us dimmed, as if someone were turning down a dial. I could see this man clearly now, his faultless eyes that matched the water. The lavender clouds above us grew darker, and as they did they somehow stilled the waves that were licking my ankles. Everything, including the mare and her distant friend, stilled.
“I do…I did…I’m working on it.”
He grunted as a small smile came to him. He glanced to the mare, and the same scene as before began to play out: right when the scared one dared to chance making it to shore, the other horse managed to spook her. It was a violent standoff.
“What does that have to do with your horse?”
“She’s scared of what’s on the shore. She’s letting the ego call the shots, telling her to stay back, that the only way to survive is to fight, kick, and throw a ruckus.”
“Maybe the other horse is protecting this one.”
He quirked a brow at me. “By isolating it? I’ll grant you, the view is perfect, but she cannot survive here. She is disconnected from everything that she needs to live.”
