At the same time, I couldn’t stop thinking about Vesta and the other fae. They were in so much trouble in those sanctuaries. They didn’t deserve any of this—particularly poor Crane, who’d died because of the Hermessi’s influence. His life was over. It had been snuffed out by Brendel and her allies. The thought alone was enough to make my blood pressure spike. If only I could just turn them all off like one did with a glitching appliance…
Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. I could, however, focus on Taeral and his team. The hope of every single world out there rested in their hands and in their ability to outsmart Brendel and get Thieron back. I dared not fantasize about what that moment would look like, but I was certainly willing to give it my all in order to make sure I’d get to witness it.
Amelia
Once our Telluris link to Nuriya was established, we were ready to leave the palace. There wasn’t anything else we could do here, and we were needed for Thieron’s retrieval. I knew Taeral would’ve given anything to be able to go out there and look for his father, but I also understood that Brendel wouldn’t have made it easy for anyone to find Sherus.
The fae king was her leverage against Taeral, but she’d underestimated our reasoning capabilities when the fate of the entire world hung in the balance. She could’ve taken everybody in Taeral’s family; he still wouldn’t have surrendered. This was one of those awful situations where our personal interests didn’t matter. The good of the many outweighed the good of the few. It hurt to even think this, but it was the truth.
“Be careful out there,” Nuriya said to us, tearing up. “I’ll keep you updated on the decoy movements, in the meantime. They’re south of here, for now.”
Taeral nodded and hugged his mother. It seemed different from where I stood. As if this really was the last time they’d see each other. Maybe it was just my paranoia at work here… Raphael took my hand in his, squeezing gently. We’d slept in each other’s arms last night, unable to shut our eyes separately. I’d tossed and turned for a couple of hours before working up the courage to knock on his door and ask him to just hold me. But he did, without needing any further explanation.
The taste of his lips lingered on mine, late into the morning, as we left the palace behind, cloaked in our invisibility spells. With my red lens on, I could see everyone in my crew—maybe better than ever. Something had shifted between us. Maybe it was all the trauma we’d experienced, or the love that had found a way to blossom in our midst, despite the harsh conditions. Or maybe both. Either way, we carried the faint shadows of experience under our eyes, while our lips arched in faint and hopeful smiles.
We’d been bashed repeatedly by the Hermessi, yet here we were, still standing.
“This is amazing,” Varga exclaimed, as Eirexis’s symbols glowed slightly brighter than before. We’d advanced about a hundred miles across the land, already, and Thieron’s handle was reacting more. We were closer to Zetos.
“Don’t hold your breath,” the Widow Maker replied dryly.
“Why not? It’s pointing in the right direction,” Varga shot back.
The Widow Maker’s shoulders dropped. It was so difficult to gauge his reactions without seeing his face, and Varga had no way of reading a Reaper’s emotions—not for lack of trying, though. He’d already told us that the Widow Maker lacked an emotional aura. I figured being dead came with some perks, including the absence from a sentry’s feelings radar.
“Check your compass. I suppose you have one?” the Widow Maker asked.
Taeral pursed his lips. “Of course we have a compass,” he said, taking his out. He flicked the semi-transparent lid open and looked at it. I leaned in to see and found myself befuddled. The needle pointing north was fine, but Eirexis’s strongest glow was no longer to the west. It had shifted to the north, as well.
“I don’t get it,” I murmured.
“Eirexis gives you a path, not necessarily a direct line across the lands to Zetos,” the Widow Maker explained.
A few seconds passed in awkward silence. My brain refused to process and interpret that information. It was a rare occurrence, but it did happen sometimes, particularly under great duress. This certainly qualified.
“I still don’t get it,” I said.
“Eirexis takes you down a path which you must follow, regardless of its direction,” the Widow Maker replied. “Whether it’s north or south or west or east or anywhere in between, you must follow it patiently.”
“Are you friggin’ kidding me?!” Herakles snapped. “We’re going around in circles because Eirexis wants us to?”
“There are multiple protection mechanisms inside Thieron’s pieces. Not just Reapers as old as time,” the Widow Maker said. His tone had changed. It was loaded with amusement. He was entertained by all this, while the rest of us wallowed in despair and anger, eager to get to Zetos sooner, rather than later. “It is how Death made it.”
“And she can’t undo it,” Taeral replied, a muscle ticking nervously in his jaw.
Varga, Eva, and I had our heads and faces covered by masks and hoods that protected us from the bright morning sun, but I could tell that they were equally frustrated. Our body frames oozed tension. “So what do we do, then? Just keep following the glow?” Eva asked. It was more or less a rhetorical question. Part of me hoped the Widow Maker would say, “No, screw it, let’s just go this way no matter what because I know better, somehow,” but he didn’t. Why make it easier, huh?
The universe clearly didn’t want us to have anything go easily or smoothly for us.
We kept going, though. Without expecting an answer from the Widow Maker, Taeral teleported us farther north, next. Six zaps later, Eirexis’s glow intensified toward the northwest, so we obliged. We stopped on the edge of a volcanic lake, at Taeral’s insistence.
It was a beautiful place. The water was crystal clear, allowing us to see the multicolored rock bottom of the lake. Beyond it, a volcano rose proudly, its incandescent peak aiming for the clouds. Lava glowed at the very top, threads of black smoke rising and swirling away from it.
“The water springs from underground, and it’s rich with rare and precious minerals,” Taeral explained as he knelt at the edge of the lake. Steam rolled gently across the rippling surface, and I stood there, watching it, easily hypnotized. Shades of blue, orange, and coral pink met underneath, with threads of white cutting through—the lake’s bottom was a natural work of art. Taeral filled a flask and motioned to Raphael to do the same. “It’s a natural healing fluid. Not as powerful as a healing potion, but it’ll do the trick on superficial wounds,” he added. “I remembered it was here when I noticed the direction in which Eirexis was pointing, about two zaps ago. I figured the water might come in handy later.”
Raphael nodded and loaded his flask, and I handed him mine as well. Soon enough, he’d filled all our flasks with volcanic lake water. I’d never heard of this place before, but then again, I could easily see why it was such a hidden treasure of the Fire Star.
“Can we drink this like normal water?” I asked.
Taeral smiled. “Even better. One sip of this is worth half a gallon of normal fresh water.”
“Oooh, double whammy, then!” Varga laughed lightly and took a generous gulp.
Eva smirked. “You don’t even need water. You’re a vampire.”
“Hey, it’s one of the few things I can still enjoy! Remember, I had to give up burgers and fries for vampirism. Let me have this!”
I wanted to laugh; I really did. But part of me was in a lot of pain—emotional and physical. I’d slept a little, but our entire situation had begun to weigh down on me, pinning me against darkness itself. I felt sluggish and tired, but Raphael had a way of perking me up again whenever he came close. He seemed to see exactly when my mood plunged, because, a second later, he was mere inches from me, his warm breath brushing against my face.
“Chin up, Super Brain,” he said slowly. “We’re not screwed yet.”
“You know, I stand by a previ
ous statement,” I replied, trying not to smile. He gave me a questioning look. “You can actually read my mind, but you refuse to admit it.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. Butterflies awakened in the pit of my stomach, and I softened, my knees barely able to keep me upright.
“I wish. But your body tells me more than your mind ever would,” he whispered in my ear. “And rest assured, Amelia, we’re both getting out of this alive and winning.”
I chuckled. “How do you know?”
“Because you’re one of the most stubborn and resourceful creatures I have ever met,” he said. “Well, that and the fact that I’m dashing and remarkably strong. I think that should count for something.”
He made me laugh, and he clearly enjoyed it. He’d learned this recently, and he didn’t miss a single opportunity to pull me out of my recurring emotional slumps. It was as if fate had tossed Raphael into my arms as a cure for all the thoughts that might make me waver before what lay ahead of us.
“Come on, lovebirds,” Herakles cut in with a sly grin, his hand neatly wrapped around Riza’s. “We need to go.”
“Which way?” Nethissis asked.
We all checked Eirexis as Taeral did another 360-degree turn. The Widow Maker spoke first. “East. We go east.”
“Okay. East it is,” Taeral replied, and we all linked hands and teleported across another swath of Fire Star terrain, following Eirexis’s varying lead.
Eva
The temperature spiked around noon, making it more difficult for us to be out, even with our covers on. Vampires weren’t comfortable in high temperatures for long, and we’d been at it for a few hours. Lumi and Nethissis cast a few minor spells to help cool us down, but there wasn’t much a witch could do against nature itself.
Eirexis kept taking us in different directions as we advanced across the continent. We shifted from north to east, then west, then back north again, following a snaking path that felt like it was taking forever. Teleporting to cover more miles did work, but it wasn’t enough. We didn’t have time to go at it as methodically as Eirexis would’ve wanted us to.
We sought shelter deep in a forest on the western coast. I could hear the ocean roaring nearby, its waves crashing against the tall rock wall. The breeze was cool and salty, making my serpentine tongue flick out with delight.
“We need a short break,” Taeral said, settling at the base of an old tree. It looked thick and gnarly, its branches stretching and twisting out in a bid to hug all of its firmly rooted neighbors. Birds chirped in the overhead crowns, hopping from branch to branch and occasionally revealing themselves, purple-and-yellow plumage gently shimmering in the few sunrays that pierced the forest’s natural ceiling. “Riza and I are wearing out with all this zapping around.”
“Can’t you take us closer to Zetos?” I asked the Widow Maker, who calmly circled around us, glancing left and right and quietly taking it all in. I had a feeling he was really enjoying this outing. After spending so much time locked inside Thieron’s handle, it didn’t come as a surprise that he wanted to be outside for as long as possible.
“I would’ve, if I could. It’s all up to Eirexis now. There’s not much else I can do,” he replied. “Man, this planet is beautiful. Weird and hot, but beautiful.”
I leaned against the trunk which Varga and I had claimed for ourselves, pulling my hood off for a few minutes. It was shady enough, though a more powerful wind could easily move the branches above and give us mild burns. Varga looked at me, the mask and hood covering most of his features—his eyes were smiling, though.
“You should try it,” I said slowly. “You’re probably scorched underneath.”
“I’m okay,” he replied. “You, on the other hand, should cover yourself back up.” Pointing up, he chuckled. “That’s a mean sun, babe.”
“Your concern is endearing,” I shot back, leaning into him. My shoulder pressed into his arm, his firm muscles offering mild resistance.
“Well, you’re a powerhouse all by yourself. The least I can do is worry about potential sunburns.” He laughed.
I let a sigh roll out of my chest, and his brow furrowed as an instinctive reaction. He didn’t need to ask me what was wrong. “I’m just hoping we survive this,” I whispered. “It’s constantly on my mind, nestled in the back of my head… this fear that… you know, we might fail.”
He nodded slowly. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“You have a wife somewhere and seven sentry babies?” I said, stifling a grin. His eyes glimmered gold as he used his True Sight to observe my expression. He often did that when I had my mask on, and I envied him, sometimes, for this ability to see through things so easily.
“Nine, actually,” he replied, calling back to an earlier joke I’d made about me having a secret husband and lots of baby Lamias. It made me giggle. “I recently realized something,” he said. “Out of this whole Reapers-and-Death thing. I didn’t really think about it before, probably because I’m more of an empiricist—I seek facts and proof for everything… Anyway, I’ve been thinking about it. There’s something after death. The existence of ghosts wasn’t enough for me, if I’m honest. Neither Ben nor Lucas or Kailyn ever made it to the other side, so they didn’t have any insights on this. However, almost everyone else who passed was ushered by Reapers into this… world of the dead. I never truly considered the concept. Am I making sense?”
“You didn’t think about life after death until the Reapers became a reality,” I replied. “Yes, I understand.”
“Now, I’m not the kind to get sucked into too much detail about this, but, I admit, I’m a little more at ease knowing that my journey won’t end with that last breath. I have no idea what’s on the other side, what this world of the dead is supposed to be like… it’s just nice to know we don’t simply fade to black.”
I lowered my gaze, a weight settling in my stomach. His reasoning was good and healthy, I thought. But I was nowhere near that mindset. “I can’t find any comfort in death, Varga. It would take me away from you, and, frankly, that’s the worst thing that could happen to me. You know, besides the end of the world and all.”
He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Warmth spread through me, relaxing my muscles and making me smile beneath my mask. “I get it. And I don’t want you to think I’m seeking any comfort in the prospect of an afterlife. I’m not. I have every intention of living for as long as I can. It just feels nice to know there is something after… the end. In the meantime, I’m looking at a minimum of three proper dates with you before I can start suggesting a more serious tone to our relationship.”
My head shot up as I stared at him with wide eyes. “Relationship? You used the R-word, Varga. That is bold, to say the least!”
“Hey, there’s an apocalypse out there with our names on it. Pardon me if I don’t think we have time to dance around one another in the old-fashioned way,” he replied, a golden twinkle in his eyes telling me that he was reading my aura. He knew how I felt about him—this transparency was actually healthy for the two of us, because I knew he was defining us as a couple while perfectly aware of my budding love for him. It meant a lot. “Live in the moment, Eva.”
I pulled my mask down, then his, and kissed him deeply. He’d earned it. The Widow Maker’s boots scratched the dry-leaf ground as he quickly turned away from us. Without parting from Varga, I gave the old Reaper a brief sideways glance. The rest of the crew didn’t bother to notice us, since they already knew we were an item, but the Widow Maker seemed flushed, even though I couldn’t see his face. His body language told me more than his expression ever would.
He just stood there, a couple of feet away, his back to us and his head down, one boot drawing an imaginary circle in the dried-up dirt beneath the crusty leaves from the previous warm season.
I pulled back and covered myself again as the sun worked its way through the rattling branches above. The ocean breeze had intensified, putting everything in motion once more. Var
ga kept himself close, as if feeding off my physical energy. I would’ve felt him syphon, of course. This was different, infinitely more subtle and certainly not harmful to me—I wondered if he knew that he was even doing it, but Lumi shot to her feet so briskly that the question slipped out of my mind before I could ask it.
“I think I know what to do!” she said, her white-blue eyes lighting up with sheer excitement.
Nethissis looked up at her, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
The group had been mostly quiet for the past ten minutes, resting and likely thinking about what lay ahead. I was quick to remember what had irked us most. It was the exact issue to which Lumi claimed to have found a solution.
“This whole search for Zetos!” Lumi replied. “Instead of chasing our tails, zapping around and wearing ourselves out, I can work up a flight spell.”
“What flight spell?” Taeral asked.
“I think the Word just told me about it. I don’t remember having this knowledge before,” Lumi said. I crinkled my nose, remembering how the Word popped in whenever it deemed it appropriate, and not always when we needed it the most. Then again, it was better than nothing. I should be thankful.
“What would you need for it? How would it work?” Nethissis asked, staring at Lumi as she slowly got up and shook the dried leaves and dirt off her dark-cherry dress. Knowing Nethissis as well as I did, I knew she carried different knives strapped to her thighs, beneath the fabric. Their blades were likely dipped in deadly poisons—a practice that Lamias continued, despite the peace on Calliope. Old habits died hard. I’d left most of mine behind, but I still carried a couple of short ones hidden in my boots.
A Shade of Vampire 75: A Blade of Thieron Page 3
