by Kate Kelley
Iris and Alec tore tiny bodies from their faces as they tread water. Alec flashed the nymphs darting toward them with his spare arm. Iris dipped under the water.
Lyra flashed at the swarm, burning the tiny bodies with all of her rage. Her aura was hot and volatile until it turned icy suddenly, a shift Lyra didn’t expect. The flashes of light morphed into long, sharp spears like Frey’s and cut into the bodies, blood spraying from them like rain.
A thought suddenly struck her and a stone dropped in her gut.
I need my pendant to direct the place of the transport. Iris and Alec will transport to the cave, which probably is little more than a pile of rubble at this point…But she couldn’t take the pendant from Terrin now, the magic helping him fight off the nymph swarm.
A nymph slipped through her attack, its feral black eyes wild, it’s blood red mouth bared in rage. It stuck its claws over her cheekbones, piercing her skin and blocking her view. She tore the body off of her, the claws raking and tearing her face in long gashes. Lyra brought her foot down on it as soon as it hit the ground. The sickening crunch of bones resonated up her leg but she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and sprinted to the water, spearing the nymphs with her aura as she ran. Grunts and cries undulated beneath the strum of the nymph’s wings, but she had no time to stop and see what was happening.
Fiery pain pierced the nape of her neck above her leather vest, a childlike voice intoning passionately in a language she didn’t know. She dove into the water, hoping it would jolt the creature off, but then she remembered the thing was a water nymph and probably could breathe under the water. She swam on as the nymph chanted, the voice taking on a bubbly quality as it’s voice hit the water. She kicked hard, swimming as best she could through what seemed like viscous liquid. Her lungs burned a short while later and she stretched to the surface for air. Gasping, she searched for Alec and Iris. She spotted Iris lying limp over Alec’s shoulder as he fought against a current. Terrin broke the surface next to them, his hair flattened to his face as he blindly took Iris from Alec. Nymphs broke the surface seconds later and bit into Terrin’s arm. He shook them off, their bodies flying and smacking the water.
A current crashed into Lyra, sweeping her underwater. She remembered to hold her breath and tried to swim upwards, but the current held her under like a colossal stone hand. The nymph on her neck cackled with glee. Her lungs started burning.
Need air.
Her head grew cloudy, the water tossing her like a baby in its cold, silky arms.
Something clutched her arm and yanked. Sweet air filled her lungs. She gasped and choked, as the strong arm held her close. The nymph tore along her neck and she screamed before the claws were gone. A flash of the pendant took over her vision and she looked up into the face of Terrin. She clung to his back, gripping him with her shaking thighs, careful not to press her arm into his throat, no matter if panic tore at her.
Beyond him, Freydis carried Poppi on her back, swimming toward the portal as Nymphs clutched and ripped at their hair. A tiny dart pierced Poppi’s temple. Her eyes were closing.
“Get to the portal now!” Lyra screamed as she clutched the smooth gem around Terrin’s neck. He flashed the nymphs that were raking Frey and Poppi’s scalps, and then returned his arm to the water to continue his mad strokes. His head dipped under the water for a moment, then returned above.
The river suddenly veered to the right, pulling them into an arc, then circling around and around, gaining speed. They were in the eye of the portal now, and there was no way out. Nymph claws, like poisonous thorns, clutched at her calves and hips. Her head warbled with confusion, growing heavy. The spinning grew faster, whipping their bodies at a frenzied pace. A suction pulled on her legs. She knew what was happening. They were going into the portal and the nymph poison was affecting her. She couldn’t let it happen.
With the last of her willpower, she pictured the throne room portal in her mind, fixing all of her thoughts on the tall ceilings, the light through the colored glass, the cushioned rugs, the golden, gem encrusted throne.
Her body was sucked away and her mind shut down as blackness filled the void.
Chapter Seven
Something sweet trickled into Lyra’s mouth and she clutched at the canteen, drinking deeply. The canteen was gone all too soon. Heated murmurs filled the air as she wrenched her eyes open.
“Sire! You’ve returned!”
Silo’s face paled, his narrow face wrought with confusion and alarm as he stood at the doors, his head jerking as he took in the mess of nymph corpses and blood and water-soaked people.
Lyra sat up and stared at her legs. Her pants were in tatters, revealing her blood-soaked skin underneath. Poppi sat in a stupor in the corner near the portal door, her knees drawn up against her chest. Freydis held the canteen to Alec’s lips, Iris kneeling next to them, her face a pale contrast to her black, wet hair.
Freydis clucked her tongue. “The antidotes resistance to the poison gets stronger the second time around.” Iris clutched her soaked dress, her knuckles white.
“Sire?” Silo spoke in a hushed tone, eyes wide.
“Where’s Terrin?” Lyra asked. Her throat burned with the words as if she’d swallowed shards of glass. Her lungs rattled.
Oriel knelt next to her. “He left to help the townsfolk. They’re completely flooded. He gave me instructions to make sure Iris gets on the throne as soon as possible but she seems to have lost her sense of hearing.”
“Really?”
“No, she just won’t leave Alec’s side.”
Lyra stood, her knees wobbling. She stepped over a crushed nymph corpse and touched Iris’ bare shoulder. Her skin was icy. “Iris. Let me help you to the throne.” Iris didn’t turn, her hand clutching Alec’s tightly. Lyra’s throat burned with unshed tears. If Alec didn’t make it…
“Iris,” her voice became stronger, “you need to think of the earth right now. As soon as you sit on that throne, the earth will replenish and the people will stop suffering, stop dying. Who knows how many have died. Think of your people now.”
Iris slowly turned and her eyes landed on the throne. Though it was only five feet away from her, it might as well have been on the other side of a chasm. Her deep blue eyes turned weary. She glanced back to Alec.
“Iris. Please.”
Finally Iris stood and walked stiffly to the throne. Lyra tried to help, but she waved her away. Silo burst forward. “What is she doing?! Only the King is permitted to sit upon the Gem Throne--”
Iris turned to him, the distant weariness gone from her gaze. This was a Queen’s face. Silo flinched back as if struck. “It can’t be…” Iris kept his gaze as she lowered herself into the throne.
A golden light, almost undetectable, shone from the center of the throne, and grew brighter, shrouding Iris and the room in luminescence. When the light faded, Alec was sitting up, his face stuck in one of awe and reverence. Relief swept through Lyra. He stood, sure on his feet, and bowed low. The Queen watched him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Thank the gods that’s over!” Freydis’ blunt remark caused a huff of laughter to slip from Lyra, but she covered it up with a cough. It summed up the past three months in one, insensitive remark, but Lyra was too tired to care. She trudged to the window and squinted, moving her head around to make out the landscape. The textured quality of the stained glass wasn’t conducive to seeing outward.
“I need to speak with the King--uh, the, uh, that is..the Prince.” Silo grimaced.
“I shall don him with a title soon enough, Silo, don’t fret.” Iris’ voice was at once monarchical and warm. Silo bowed and then took his leave, his back stiff.
“Silo,” she called,“I need my rooms prepared. I’ll take my old ones. And one for our extra guest.” Silo turned, bowed again and left in a hurry, his hands clenched in his robes. Lyra knew he was bursting with the news that the true Queen had returned.
“The rest of you may go. Oriel, Lyra
, Poppi, Alec, you have rooms. Freydis, Silo is preparing a room for you in the guest wing.”
Freydis blinked. “I can’t stay long--”
“You’ll stay as long as we can figure out our next step.”
“You aren’t my queen,” Freydis said coolly.
“How do you think you’ll get back to Eclipsa?” Lyra cut in, puzzled.
Freydis shrugged. “I’ll use you to cross back over.”
“No, you won’t,” Oriel said darkly, throwing his arm around Lyra.
“Not just yet, Frey,” Lyra added. Freydis narrowed her eyes at them and huffed to the table where she hopped up to sit, the sound making a wet thwack on the marble.
“I’d like to rest now,” Lyra said, turning to Oriel. He nodded and tightened his hold on her hand. She didn’t have the energy to shake him off and he escorted her to her room.
✽✽✽
The door was unlocked. A sense of relief sank to her bones, the familiar smells of the room soothing her soul. It wasn’t lost on her that this place she had feared and hated for years had become home to her. She peeled off her vest and boots. Oriel started the bath and placed a towel on the edge of the tub. His eyes dipped to her wet shirt that didn’t leave anything to the imagination.
“I was sick with worry about you,” Oriel said, reaching up to twirl a lock of her hair. His emotions bled from his face as they always did. He was never afraid to admit how he felt. Lyra admired that about him.
She touched his hand to reassure him and his palm moved to cradle her cheek. “We made it. We’re okay.”
“Let me stay with you tonight,” he said, his eyes pleading. His touch was warm, calming. Maybe just one night…
“I believe I’m her lady’s maid, Oriel, not you.” Poppi’s stern voice surprised them and they took a step back from each other.
Oriel gave Poppi a hard stare and then turned back to Lyra. “Find me in my rooms later if you want to talk.” He brushed Poppi’s arm as he passed, not bothering to give her second glance. Poppi’s nostrils flared as her glower followed him. She shut the door with a soft click. She had already changed into dry clothes, her soft brown hair combed and plaited down her back. Her cheek was bruised and her hairline was wrought with tiny puncture wounds, now scabbing over. She was still too thin.
“Oh, Poppi. How are you feeling?”
Poppi scoffed and walked past her, testing the temperature of the bath. “Too hot.” She adjusted the nozzle until she satisfied, then turned off the water. Lyra undressed and sank into the depths of the tub, sloughing off the flakes of blood dried to her skin.
“Thank you, Poppi. But you don’t have to be my lady’s maid anymore. You’re free to do whatever you want. Besides, I’m not sure how much longer I will remain in Gem.”
Poppi picked up the ripped up pants and inspected them, a frown marring her pretty face. “I’ll make you a new outfit if Terrin approves of it.”
“Did you hear me, Poppi? I won’t be here much longer. I finished my task. Terrin is no longer King. I doubt Iris will want me to remain longer than needed.”
Poppi scrunched up her face. “Terrin won’t be cast off. He’s a Prince, and will still be an integral part of the Kingdom.”
Lyra scrubbed her scalp with the perfumed soap, sudsing it to a lather. “Even so, I have nothing left to do here. I’m sure Iris would keep you on as a maid.”
“Terrin won’t let you leave until the flooding is under control.”
“And when it is, which will be soon, as Iris is now Queen, I will leave.” Lyra’s heart broke even as she said the words as if they didn’t bother her. Poppi helped her rinse her hair as she leaned back until all the soap ran out, and then settled back and soaked in the luxury. Poppi sat next to the tub, bobbing her foot up and down in an incessant pattern. Lyra’s gaze slid to her.
“What is it Poppi?”
“Do you remember that night when we all drank the fairy rum?”
“You mean last night?”
Poppi blinked. “Gods, it feels like longer ago than that.”
Lyra’s mouth lifted in a ghost smile. “I remember some.”
“I overheard your conversation with Oriel about the bonding.”
Lyra remembered that. Poppi had interrupted it by puking in the woods. She wondered now if Poppi had gotten ill because of what she had heard. Guilt stabbed at her.
“Poppi, I--”
“You said once you’d owe me a favor. When I walked you into the welcome ball for Navi. I didn’t want to go because I was terrified of seeing her. I knew she would see me and I knew she would know my thoughts. Knew I had failed. But I went with you anyway, because I wanted to be there for you.”
Lyra clenched her jaw. “I’m sorry, Poppi. I didn’t realize that at the time.”
“It’s okay. You made it up to me by rescuing me.” She drew in a deep breath. “But you still owe me a favor.”
Lyra looked her in the eye. “Anything.”
Poppi’s brow pinched and she bit her lip. “I want you to break the bond with Oriel.” The words fell quickly from her mouth.
Lyra was silent, contemplating the trickles of water along the edge of the copper tub. “You know that I want to break it, but I don’t know how.”
“Terrin said something about a priestess,” Poppi said hastily.
How much had she overheard?
“Are you and Oriel…?”
Poppi blushed and she looked down at her hands. “Not yet,” she clipped out.
“You love him,” Lyra stated flatly.
“Hardly, it’s only been a few weeks,” Poppi mumbled.
Lyra sighed. “Oriel won’t listen. Terrin said he needs to be there to break the bond, but he won’t. He--I’m sorry, Poppi, but he’s obsessed with me. I can understand it’s the bond that is making him that way. I just don’t know how to convince him. He thinks breaking it will kill me too, which I highly doubt.”
“We have to force his hand,” Poppi said, her eyes flicking back and forth along the floor as her laced hands flexed and clenched. Lyra felt the panic rising from Poppi’s center.
She grabbed her hand over the edge of the tub. “Poppi, listen to me. We will figure it out. Go back to your room. You need to rest.”
Poppi watched Lyra for a moment longer, her light brown eyes glazed as if in a trance, before standing and disappearing out of the door, leaving the tattered outfit behind.
Chapter Eight
Lyra stood when the door clicked closed and stepped out of the tub to dry off. Her skin felt truly clean and fresh for the first time in what felt like ages. A soft knock sounded at the door. She was really not in the mood to talk to anyone. Wrapping the large towel around her, she tucked the end into the top to secure it tight against her. Besides her shoulders and a bit of thigh, not much skin was showing.
Maybe they’ll see my towel and get scared off.
She opened the door and almost shut it again. Terrin stood, towering in the doorway, his clothes and hair still drenched. Lyra’s mouth parted. His gaze stuck to hers.
“Yes?”
He stood straighter and clasped his hands behind his back. “I apologize for intruding, but I wanted to return your pendant to you.” His voice was the epitome of civility.
She stared at him, waiting. His gaze went beyond her head, his eyes not taking in anything in particular, yet he didn’t extend his hand to give her the pendant back. The indifference and refinement in his voice and stance irked her.
“You’re drenched,” she said, taking in his clothes and hair, “You must be cold. Come in and sit.”
His eyes flicked to her briefly before returning to their neutral direction. “I have matters to attend to,” he said, his voice cool.
“I need to speak with you,” Lyra said at the same time. He looked at her again, then nodded once. “Make it quick.”
She ushered him in and closed the door. He sat on the chair by the door. “I apologize for the chair,” he said.
Lyra shrugged. �
�It’s not my chair, what care do I have if it gets wet?”
“Quite right.”
“Are your powers restored?”
“Yes. They’ll get stronger as the land revives.”
Lyra went to the window and peered out. Her eyes widened. Men flit to and fro carrying fallen branches from fallen trees, rubble, and other debris on the front castle grounds. The ground was mush with standing water, and they sloshed through the ankle-high water.
“How bad is the town?” Lyra asked.
Terrin grit his teeth. “Bad.”
Lyra whipped to look at him. “Is everyone okay?”
“Many buildings were destroyed in the winds. The streets are flooded. The death toll is up to one hundred now, half were children.” His eyes were bottomless depths of black.
Lyra gasped.“One hundred people died?”
“Surely more than that in Terra. I don’t know how Ursa was affected until Navi returns my letter.”
Lyra clenched her towel that she forgot she was wearing. She thought of her aunt, the children she taught, her parents’ school. “How could Gaia do such a thing?”
Terrin snorted. “You think the gods care a whit about our deaths?”
Lyra contemplated that. “That brings me to what I need to speak with you about.”
He scowled. “Go on.”
“When I...died. I spoke with Gaia. I asked her to spare you in regards to Techni, that it wasn’t your intention to…”
“But I did want to kill him. I would do it again.” His eyes were fiery now, ruthless and unforgiving.
