by Sam Cheever
Beside me, Deg stiffened. I could feel his censure thickening the air between us. I’d been instructed not to take sides. It had been the key thing my mother had drummed into us before she’d sent us on the mission into Axismundi. Lay low, take no sides, fact-finding mission only.
Well, I’d just thrown the proverbial demon bomb into that plan.
Still, my instincts were telling me it had been the right move. I just hoped my instincts weren’t wrong.
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze hard. “And why would a Witch from the human dimension want a position in Axismundi?” He clearly didn’t believe me.
On the positive side. He’d called me a Witch. That was interesting.
“Our council is in disarray. They trust no one and they’re squabbling among themselves constantly. We’re a heartbeat away from full rebellion by some and in danger of dictatorial control by others. I see the writing on the wall. Things are changing. And I want to be on the winning side of that change.”
I swallowed hard as he continued to stare down at me. I had no idea if anything I was saying would ring true. No idea how much of our goings on the Axismundi creatures were aware of. I was pretty sure Trudy knew what the council members in our dimension were doing. But I was also fairly certain her soldiers wouldn’t be privy to it.
In fact, I was counting on that.
After a very long moment he jerked his head toward Deg. “And him?”
I opened my mouth to speak but Deg beat me to it. He bowed slightly, wincing as the blade at his throat no doubt bit into his skin. “Deggart the Witch at your service. I’m tired of watching the council lording it over the lesser houses. I want to be part of the new order.”
The guard’s demeanor didn’t change. But he did hold Deg’s gaze for a moment. “And the Nephilim?”
“We paid her to help us cross Axismundi. She knows nothing of our plans and has given us no reason to doubt that she is one of Trudy’s most loyal supporters.”
I held my breath, praying that I hadn’t just signed Mabel’s death warrant.
The seconds ticked by, thick with tension, and the guard finally jerked his head toward the path. “I’ll let the queen decide what to do with you.”
A big hand shoved against my shoulder and I stumbled forward, keeping an eye on my friends as we moved quickly through the dark. I mumbled soothing chants, tempted to try out a couple of protection spells. But I remembered the guard stating he’d felt Mabel’s use of magic and I couldn’t risk it. Axismundi clearly functioned under a different set of rules. I didn’t dare risk annoying the guards leading us to my aunt.
I was pretty sure, if I could just get us to Trudy we’d be safe. She might be cray-cray in a dangerously unbalanced way, but she was still my aunt.
I was counting on blood being thicker than political goals.
It was a dangerous path to follow. But it seemed the only one we had.
Chapter Nine
Trudy’s “throne city” was nothing like I expected. It was beautiful, in a fairytale kind of way. But it appeared more an Elven glade than a Queen’s castle.
The one thing I could appreciate, even in the dark, was the abundance of life.
The place teemed with it.
I smelled the greenery a quarter of a mile before I saw it.
And when I saw the vast horizon of trees and flowers, all sizes, shapes and colors, my first thought was to wonder how she’d created a living world inside a dead one. I felt no barrier holding the magic in when we crossed from the barren and ugly landscape we’d seen since arriving in Axismundi. No stench of sulfur.
But there was a sharp delineation between the two areas. And a shiny wall that rose into the sky and curved inward. It was like a giant bubble from a human child’s bottle of liquid soap, stretching and popping around us as we pushed through. It closed behind us with a soft sigh, leaving behind only a sweet citrusy smell.
Lights flickered warmly as far as the eye could see in both directions. Glowing illumination wavered on a soft, flower-scented breeze, the blue flames perched atop heavily carved posts set into the ground at regular intervals along the border.
Deg scrutinized the carvings as we walked past, giving me a wide-eyed look meant to tell me there was trouble in them thar posts.
I’d noted the stiff slashes and awkward curves of demonic script. If Trudy was using magic to create her haven, it was of the black kind rather than the white energy I’d been taught since I was old enough to learn.
On its face, that seemed to be a bad indication of Trudy’s character. But if she really wanted equality between the magic houses, she’d be inclined to utilize the skills and knowledge of all of them equally.
Unfortunately, that thought didn’t make me any happier.
There were no roiling, noisy crowds as I’d expected. Only a few, fairly normal looking people walking to and from the various structures, which were built high in the trees, with plank and rope stairways leading to their rough timber doors.
Everyone was dressed in shimmering robes like Mabel’s. In that moment, I realized she’d been dressed to fit in, rather than because she was part Angel.
I clutched my borrowed robe close, feeling exposed by the naked skin just beneath the shimmery fabric.
I had the strangest awareness of being different in Trudy’s magicked world. It was more than having everyone stare at me. Though there was certainly a lot of staring going on. But it was more a feeling of being…heavy and inelegant…in a world filled with creatures who floated on air and shone silver against a gold background.
It was a totally unreasonable feeling, but I couldn’t shake it, despite realizing it was probably some kind of warding or mind magic.
By the way Deg was frowning and continually shrugging his shoulders as if to slough off a weight of some kind, I figured he was feeling it too.
“Stop!”
I blinked in surprise at the head guard’s growled command. I’d been so wrapped up in checking out my surroundings I’d forgotten how we’d come to be there.
The guard strode toward a sky-bound structure built on a copse of several massive trees. It was by far the largest and most beautiful structure in the place, with a roof of shiny-leafed tree branches covered in pink, blue and yellow flowers as big around as my hand. The wood slat walls were stained white and they were covered in flower-drenched vining. I realized with a start that the vines were formed in a protective warding design that surrounded the entire structure.
A wide walkway surrounded the structure, flowering vines twining around the railing as far as the eye could see. On the walkway, dozens of people sat and strolled, smiling and laughing and casting the occasional curious gaze our way.
Sour-faced guards stood at each of several doors in the structure’s circular walls, pulling some of the lightness from the atmosphere with their dour defense.
Trudy’s treehouse might not look like a traditional castle. But it certainly seemed to function like one. We waited several moments before the head guard reappeared at the top of the strange staircase to the castle. He lifted a hand and the guards shoved us, urging us forward. Climbing that wobbly staircase proved a skill that Deg and I didn’t have. We fell to our knees several times before gaining the ability to shift with the movement instead of against it.
The guards chuckled as we fell again and again, never seeming to consider helping us. Mabel frowned back at us a few times and glared at the guards, but she was still bound and couldn’t help us either.
Finally, we reached the relatively stable surface of the walkway. Yet even that moved slightly under our feet, giving the whole thing an unsettlingly insecure feeling I held onto until we entered through the widest set of doors.
Then I forgot the structure’s stability. I forgot the guards prodding me with spears. I forgot I was on dangerous footing in more ways than one.
For a few beats I even forgot to breathe.
Because the room we entered was beyond anything I’d ever seen.
The floor of the room was made of lush, vibrantly green grass. Filled with a golden light that mirrored the Earth’s sun, the ceiling was higher above our heads than it had appeared from the outside. The sky reflected the gray-blue of the queen’s eyes. Puffs of fluffy clouds moved lazily across the atmosphere and birds danced lazily on the air beneath them.
The room was decked out like a park, complete with a pond between the door where we stood and the queen’s throne. A dainty bridge arched over the clear blue water and fish leapt from its glassy surface to snatch colorful dragonflies from the air above it.
Around the room, people sat on benches and stood in clusters, speaking softly and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world.
But despite the natural bounty of Trudy’s “kingdom” the occasional hostile gaze still swept our way when our presence was noticed. And it took only a few beats before everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at us.
Expressions turned instantly hard. Smiles died on stiff lips. The sunny space and comfortably warm temperature soon turned cold under their scrutiny.
Trudy herself hadn’t moved. Her impossibly beautiful face was formed in a stone-like mask, giving off no trace of warmth when her stormy blue gaze landed on me.
I hadn’t been sure what to expect when I met my long-dead aunt. But hostile indifference had never been an outcome I would have predicted.
After a moment, she inclined her chin just slightly.
The guards shoved us forward and Deg and I shared a look. By mutual consent, we hadn’t used our private communication channel since we’d been taken. We didn’t know who could intercept our thoughts and if the guards would suspect its use.
I’d never missed our communication more than I did in that moment. I would have loved to hear Deg’s impressions as we stepped off the dainty bridge and approached the throne.
Most importantly, I wasn’t sure how to act in front of a woman who thought she was queen but really wasn’t.
A woman who, by all accounts, was crazy as a loon and dangerous as a room filled with demons.
“Halt!” The head guard barked out the order when we were fifteen feet from the throne. He immediately dropped to one knee and lowered his head. “My Queen.”
Deg touched my hand and gave it a surreptitious tug. We lowered our heads and stayed silent until she spoke.
“Hello, niece.”
Drop to one knee, Deg’s voice whispered in my head.
I somehow managed to lower myself without falling over, though I didn’t do it half as gracefully as Deg.
“You may rise.”
I might have been imagining things, but I thought Trudy’s voice held a tinge of frustration. Though that made no sense at all.
She shifted slightly, her fingers tightening around a tall, polished staff she held in one hand. The staff had three leaves sticking up from the tip in a perfect circle, and the leaves danced constantly as if brushed by an errant breeze.
She handed the staff to a guard and motioned with her hand for me to approach. I moved slowly in her direction and, when she lifted her arms, bent to allow her to frame my face with her cool hands. She looked deep into my eyes, her expression not softening even a tiny bit. Trudy pinched both of my cheeks before giving me a tight smile. “You’re so pale, child. You need color.”
I’d winced at the cheek pinch but managed not to jerk away. “Part of being a redhead, I guess,” I said softly.
Cocking her head, she finally let her eyes show some affection. “It’s good to see you LeeAnn.”
I gave her a smile. “It’s good to see you too, Aunt…” I hesitated, frowning slightly. I wasn’t sure what to call her.
“It’s okay, child.” She gave me a tight smile. “You may call me Auntie as you did when you were a tiny girl.”
My frown deepened for a beat but I caught her clear gaze, seeing a warning written there. I nodded. “Thank you, Auntie. You’re looking well.”
Well was a vast understatement. She shared my mother, her sister’s, red-gold curtain of glossy hair and beautiful eyes with a dense fan of lashes. Her facial features, also like my mother’s, were delicate, arranged perfectly on her flawless, oval face.
She had a redhead’s porcelain skin, without freckles to mar its unblemished surface.
The gown she wore was pale pink silk, cinched just below her breasts in an old fashioned but flattering empire waist with several strings of creamy pearls. The gown hit her mid-calf and her slender feet were bare beneath the gown’s hem. Strands of matching pearls encircled one ankle and the big toe on the opposite foot.
Her toenails were longish, filed square and polished to an opaline sheen, with a leaf that matched the ones on her staff painted on each big toe.
I hadn’t lied. She looked the picture of comfort and health. But there was something in the tilted gray-blue gaze that made my chest tighten with dread.
“You look tired, niece.” Trudy frowned. I was surprised when she stood up, wavering slightly and putting more weight than she should need to on the staff she’d retrieved from the guard. As she stood, the room fell as one to their knees, dropping their foreheads to the floor in front of them.
Trudy’s eyes tightened with something that looked like irritation. She slammed her staff on the floor and everyone stood and moved quickly out of the room.
Finally, only the head guard stood before the throne. Trudy slid him a tense look. “Watch the doors.”
He inclined his head. “With my life.”
Something passed between them. I glanced at Deg to see if he’d noticed. He had. His mouth was a tight line.
The guard ascended the three steps to Trudy’s throne and took her arm. She leaned heavily on him, her legs wobbly as they descended. I followed and, as they reached the grass, he handed her over to me. I took one arm and Deg moved in on her other side, ready to help if she needed it.
“We’ll be in my rooms,” Trudy told the guard.
He frowned, hesitating. “Are you sure, my…”
“Yes!” She cut him off with a glower and, though he clearly didn’t approve, he bowed slightly and strode away, toward the doors we’d entered.
I realized suddenly that all the doors had been closed and I didn’t doubt they were bolted. The feeling of foreboding I’d been struggling with deepened. Something wasn’t right in Trudy’s world.
Other than the fact that she was clearly ill.
Chapter Ten
We moved around behind the dais and entered a door that lead to a long hallway. At the end of the hallway was a pair of gilded doors, thrown open to show a large area beyond that was filled with light. “My rooms,” she told us with a tight smile.
By the time we reached the doors, Trudy was breathing heavily, her pale brow moist from the effort of walking the short distance.
The room was exactly what I would have expected. Lush, creamy carpets covered the floor of a massive area, whose main feature was a huge bed with polished tree trunks arcing toward the center from each corner. Gauzy pale green fabric was draped over the trunks and gathered in soft pools on every side.
The outside wall was mostly glass and beyond the window was a beautiful vista, featuring a waterfall at its center, whose base formed a pool that sparkled in the flickering light of a hundred lanterns set on carved posts like the ones we’d seen when we entered Mundala.
I got the impression we’d see massive trees and beds of flowers if the sun were shining.
“The divan, please.” Trudy nearly gasped out the request.
Once we had her settled, I poured her a glass of a pink liquid from an icy metal pitcher. She took it, sipping gratefully. “Thank you, LeeAnn.”
“Call me LA, please. Everyone does,”
Her smile was sad. “I’ve missed family. It’s been far too long.”
“You’re not well?” I asked, hoping she didn’t take offense.
She lowered the glass, staring at it for a moment. “No. I’m not.”
“How can I help?” I realized I meant it and was shocked when the words emerged from my mouth. I’d thought I was coming to find a way to defeat a mad woman bent on destroying the world. Instead I found a sickly creature who seemed every bit as uncomfortable in Axismundi as I did.
It was probably all an act. But my heart was telling me I had to help. She was, after all, my family. I’d learned, not all that long ago, just how important family was, when I’d nearly lost all of mine.
She shook her head, settling back with a sigh and closing her eyes. “Just give me a moment.” We waited in silence for a few seconds and then Trudy opened her eyes, lifting a hand and fluttering the long, pale fingers.
Harp music suddenly filled the room, its delicate notes dancing across the air like butterflies. It touched my skin in tiny electrical shocks and I flinched, realizing it was much more than music.
“Masking magic,” Deg mumbled. He blinked in surprise. He’d probably not intended to speak the words out loud.
“Yes. I’m sorry for the intrigue, children. But I can’t tell you how relieved I am to finally have you here.”
I frowned. “Finally? Were you expecting us?”
“For some months now. I was unable to send a direct message of course, but I’d hoped your mother and grandmother would catch the meaning behind the breach.”
Deg and I shared a look. “The monsters were your doing?”
“Not directly, no. But, when I became aware of their infiltration I didn’t try to stop them.” She pointed to a pile of clothing on a nearby chair. “Help yourselves. I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable.”
