by Sara Page
“What?”
Striker chuckles, but it’s that darkly amused chuckle that borders on sadness or madness.
I’m not sure which.
“Even after you’ve accepted us, you can reject us and we will become hopeless and damned.”
“I don’t understand. That doesn’t seem right or fair…”
Striker laughs at that. “None of it is right or fair. Or perhaps it perfectly is.”
“What do you mean? How is any of this fair?”
“When my mother discovered what my father was planning on doing, she rejected him.”
“She did?”
“Yes. But my father couldn’t bear to lose her, so he dropped her into the pit, hoping she’d change her mind or come to her senses.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yes, exactly Ameia.”
I reach up and grab his forearms, squeezing him hard. “I’m so, so sorry, Striker. I love you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Thank you,” Striker sighs and then he leans forward, pressing his forehead against my forehead. “I love you too… and damn it all. I think if you ever rejected me, I might go mad and throw you in a pit.”
“You wouldn’t,” I deny. “You wouldn’t do that…”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Ameia.”
Chapter Seven
The following morning Beast awakens me to feed Esha and Ellany. Both girls slept through the night and seem to be very hungry. They just eat and eat.
After I’m done feeding our babies, Beast and Striker then order breakfast and feed me. We enjoy a late breakfast together before Beast informs me that my aunt has asked me to join her for afternoon tea.
Immediately, my heart begins to race with excitement. I wonder if she was able to sneak back into the library. I hope she was able to find something about the Beacon.
I clean and dress quickly. Beast and Striker both try to join me in the shower, but I’m so excited I talk them into watching the girls for me instead.
Once dressed, it’s determined that Beast will take care of the girls and Striker will escort me to my aunt’s apartment. I kiss each of the girls goodbye on their foreheads and then give Beast a kiss as well and thank him.
Stepping out into the hallway, though, I can immediately tell something isn’t quite right. There’s a weird energy about the place. Something feels off.
Striker walks beside me, protectively, and keeps checking our surroundings as if he’s on alert. After we walk down the first hallway without coming across another soul, I finally realize it’s too quiet.
I turn on him. “What’s going on? Where’s everyone?”
Where are all the guards at?
Usually there are at least a dozen other people about. Maids, guards, visitors and other aristocrats.
Striker sighs and takes me by the elbow, guiding me forward. I frown down at his grip on my elbow as he explains. “After the disturbance last night, the king has ordered that only essential personnel are permitted in the royal chambers.”
Looking up at Striker’s face, I frown at him. “Why? Are we in danger?”
“No,” he insists immediately. “You and the girls are not in danger.”
“Then why has the king ordered everyone out?”
“He’s just being extra precautious…”
“Why?” I press.
Striker shrugs his shoulders but I’m not fooled.
“Something happened, didn’t it?”
Again he shrugs.
Dammit, if there’s one thing I hate it’s being left in the dark.
“If the king is so worried, where are all the guards?”
“Only the most essential personnel—“ he tries to repeat but I cut him off.
“Guards are essential, especially if there is danger.”
Striker stops now and grabs both of my arms. Holding me firmly, he stares down into my eyes as he says, “You are not in danger.”
I know he will protect me and I can trust him, but I still feel like there is more to this. There’s something he’s not saying. If he has to say I’m not in danger then I know I probably am.
Frowning up at him, I hold his gaze and watch him closely as I say, “Then tell me what’s going on.”
I expect him to brush me off or refuse to answer me at all. I certainly don’t expect him to be terrifyingly honest. “Ameia, I don’t know.”
Those three words, I don’t know, have my blood turning cold. There’s something incredibly ominous about them. Something that scratches at the back of my brain.
“Does the king know?” I ask, hoping that perhaps he’s just being kept out of the loop but in my heart I already know the answer. There are invisible forces at work. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it.
Things are just wrong, but it’s hard for me to figure it out because I’ve never seen how things work normally.
Striker slowly shakes his head and I puff out my breath. Damn.
Tearing my gaze away, I glance up the empty hallway. Suddenly it’s too eerie, too dangerous.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I have that feeling I’m being watched.
“Let’s be on our way then,” I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. Striker pulls me forward again after a sharp nod of his head.
Blackspire is supposed to be safe, is supposed to be my refuge. If my daughters and I aren’t safe here, will we have to return to Terrea?
* * *
The mood in my aunt’s apartment is tense and somber. Just like the hallways, it’s entirely too quiet when I arrive. After ensuring that I’m in safe hands, Striker departs, returning to help Beast with our daughters.
My aunt’s apartment is much like mine in layout, the only difference is her décor is different. I suppose most of the apartments follow the same floor plan. The front of the apartment is a receiving area with a cozy circle of seating surrounding a table and foot stools.
Only my aunt and Celeste are present. They both stand from the couch they share and greet me with forced smiles on their lips. I can tell just by the pinched look on their faces that they’re both tense about something.
“Ameia,” my aunt says warmly and motions for me to take a seat.
“Lorune, Celeste,” I nod at each of them and choose the couch directly across from them.
My aunt sits down stiffly and Celeste fidgets, unable to sit still. She seems nervous.
Something is definitely up.
My aunt pours me a cup of tea and I wait until I’ve taken a sip from it before I address the situation.
“So,” I drawl out, smiling at both of them to show I want to keep this pleasant. “What’s going on? Where are all the guards?”
I take a sip of my tea and watch them share a look.
I wait patiently while they decide between each other who will break the news to me.
With a nod, Celeste finally sighs. “To be honest, Ameia, we’re not entirely sure.”
I arch my brow. That’s exactly what Striker said. “Something must have happened though?”
“Yes,” Celeste admits reluctantly, and shoots Lorune another look. “There have been some disturbances… acts of aggression…”
Lorune waves her hand in a dismissive manner. “Little things. Nothing too terrible, but unusual enough to cause some concern.”
“Oh?”
“It’s probably just high emotions left over from the ceremony,” Lorune says though she herself sounds unsure.
I suppose that would make sense, but… “Even with the guards, though?”
Celeste frowns and she shares another look with Lorune. “It only seems to be coming from the ones not yet Called. The unmated.”
Lorune nods. “No doubt it’s just a product of the change you and the girls represent. Something they just need to get out of their system. Change, even good change, can be hard for people to come to accept.”
That sounds like a plausible reason, but even I have noticed that both Beast and Striker seem to b
e a little more aggressive as well. Beast threw me over his shoulder last night and Striker spanked me in bed… This morning though they were both pleasant. Perhaps on their accounts it was just sexual frustration, but my gut is just telling me there’s more to it.
Ugh, lately, I’m feeling suspicious and paranoid about everything and it isn’t pleasant.
“Only the uncalled males?” I question.
They both nod and Lorune forces another smile. “Yes, only the uncalled males. Give it time, things will settle down soon and everything will return to normal.”
What is normal though? I want to ask but think better of it. And I really don’t want to share my private encounters with Beast and Striker, so bringing up their aggressiveness is definitely out of the question.
I sip my tea and observe the two of them a little more. There’s more going on here. Celeste still appears to be nervous and Lorune is much too tense.
“Did you get a chance to sneak into the library again?” I ask hopefully. I need something good to focus on, a purpose.
Lorune leans forward, setting her cup of tea down on the table and nods her head solemnly. “Yes, Ameia.” She pauses, smooths down her skirt and looks me directly in the eyes. “That’s why I wanted to meet with you.”
Celeste finally stills and then her face just falls. The sadness I see there is so strong, so poignant, I feel my own heart twisting up in sympathy.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Celeste covers her face with her hand and shakes her head at me. Lorune looks away, towards the door, and sighs heavily. “I was able to slip away last night during one of the disturbances. It’s not good, Ameia.”
Their reaction says it all I suppose. My own hand is shaking, rattling my tea cup against my saucer. Leaning forward, I sit my cup down on the table and then clasp my fingers together to keep my hands from trembling.
“Lorune,” I say, somehow keeping the pitch of my voice steady. “Please, what did you find? What isn’t good?”
Please let it not be something involving Esha and Ellany. Please.
Lorune shakes her head and I watch her face fall for the briefest of moments just like Celeste’s did.
Celeste is still hiding her face, her body trembling.
I look to Lorune and implore her, “Please, tell me.”
Lorune turns her head back and her eyes are glistening. She stares at me for the longest time then comes to some kind of decision with herself. Nodding her head, she rises from her couch. “It will be better if I show you.”
She walks over to the door and secures the lock before disappearing into one of the back rooms. Reappearing, she carries one of the dusty books in her hands.
“You took that from the library?” I ask in disbelief. Is she crazy?
“Yes,” Lorune says, and sits down beside me. “I had to. I couldn’t just leave it there.”
“But if you’re caught with it, the king will consider it treason…”
Celeste wipes at her eyes and finally drops her hand from her face. Her eyes are puffy and her skin is flushed red. She sniffles loudly and then wipes at her nose. “That’s why I’m keeping it in my apartment.”
Standing from her couch, Celeste walks over and sits down on the other side of me. I look between them, my brow furrowed with worry. Celeste reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. I don’t know who she’s trying to reassure more though, herself or me.
“Right then,” Lorune sighs and then flips the book open. “This book is much like the one you found. It reads more like an illustrated fairy tale, but…” She begins to flip quickly through the pages and I see the illustrations look almost identical to the ones in the previous books, as if they were drawn by the same artist.
Reaching the middle of the book she comes to a stop and points down at the page. “This book actually mentions the Beacon.”
I lean down, staring hard at the page and the illustration. There’s the pit again, the lone surviving creature and a woman.
Lorune flips the page. The next picture shows the woman pushing the creature into the pit.
Well, that doesn’t look too bad. I peek up at Lorune, wondering what’s got them so upset.
Sadly, Lorune nods her head then she flips the next page.
The woman is jumping into the pit. I frown at that drawing and Lorune flips to the next page. The pit looks as if it’s folding in on itself. The next page shows it growing smaller, and the final page shows that it’s completely gone.
“You’re sure that’s the Beacon?” I ask, hoping it’s just a mistake or that I’m just misinterpreting it.
Lorune clears her throat and says, “I’m sure. If you read the text, it describes the pictures as the Beacon saving the universe by sacrificing herself.”
“Is that it? Are you sure?”
Lorune flips through the last two pages and even lets me reach over and flip through them myself to be sure. I drop the book and lean back.
I feel a little numb, like my entire body is tingling. “How does that lead them out of the darkness and to their true selves? How does that make any sense?”
Beside me Celeste makes a little noise in her throat and my own throat tightens up. Dammit, I’m going to start crying.
“I don’t know, Ameia,” Lorune says softly. “It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. Hopefully, it’s all wrong.”
“So that’s it…” I say again. “If the book is right, I’m supposed to save everyone by sacrificing myself. That’s my prophecy? That’s what they all want me to do?”
Celeste covers her face with her hand again and shakes her head.
Lorune’s eyes glisten and my own eyes feel like they’re swelling. “No. No one knows about this. No one wants you to die, Ameia.”
“What about Esha and Ellany?” I ask, my voice sounding strained. I have to suck in a deep breath and close my eyes to keep from crying. “Is there anything in there about them?”
“No, thankfully not,” Lorune says and I feel instantly relieved until I realize that if this prophecy is true it means I’ll have to leave them.
They’ll have to grow up without a mother, just like I did.
“I don’t know if I can do it, if it comes down to it,” I softly admit, and feel the first of the tears I’m holding back slip past my resistance. “I don’t know if I can leave them,” my voice cracks.
How could any mother do it?
“Oh, Ameia,” Celeste sobs now and grabs me, pulling me into a hug. Lorune breaks down as well, but she’s shaking her head as if she doesn’t believe it or accept it.
“No one’s asking you to do that. No one expects you to do that,” Lorune insists.
“But they are…” I say and Celeste squeezes me even harder. “They just don’t know what they’re asking.”
If the book is true, my own mates don’t realize that they’re asking for my death.
Chapter Eight
After many tears, many hugs, and much sniffling, my aunt, Celeste and I determine that the book they discovered is garbage.
It’s all made up, none of it is true. Nothing is going to happen to me. No one expects me to die to save the Ravagers. I’m not supposed to sacrifice myself or anything so overdramatic.
It’s all just fairy tales about monsters and darkness, and it could be referencing any race’s future or past.
Celeste seems much more relieved by the time I depart, but my aunt’s smiles are just as forced as mine are.
Maybe if we repeat it enough we can convince ourselves it’s all hogwash.
But the fact remains, something about those pictures struck a nerve in us. And no matter how much we want to dismiss the illustrations because we don’t want to believe them, there’s an eerie rightness to them that leaves us both in doubt.
Because the three of us were so upset, and because there’s no hiding that Celeste was crying, her face is puffy and red, I decide to walk back to my apartment unescorted. The halls are nearly empty anyway, and no one b
elieves I’m in any danger, so why not? There’s no sense in pestering Striker or Beast for an escort, it would be quicker just to walk there.
The hallways are long and eerie but I’m too lost in my thoughts to let it bother me.
Do the stories we dug up truly have any merit? Or are we simply molding them to fit our narrative?
Our interpretations could be complete shit.
I’m so deep in thought that I don’t even register the soft voices coming from down the hall at first. It’s not until a sharper voice speaks out in anger that I realize I’m no longer alone.
Slowing my steps, I pause, listening before I round the corner. I need to know what I’m walking into, that sharper voice sounded pretty pissed.
“This is not natural,” a woman hisses. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re making everyone uncomfortable, and you’ve humiliated us!”
“I’m sorry my presence is distressing you so much, mother,” Vis snaps and I slap my hand over my mouth.
What the hell is going on?
“You’re a traitor and I’m surprised the King hasn’t put you to death yet,” a man I don’t recognize says. “You should leave now, son. Before it’s too late.”
“I can’t leave,” Vis growls. “I’m sorry, I know it’s caused you pain and embarrassment—“
The angry woman cuts him off. “But you have to leave! You’re a reject. You don’t belong here. You belong with all the other rejects! Why are you doing this to us? Why?!”
“Laurie, please,” the man says, trying to calm the woman down. “What your mother means, son, is that you being here is a painful reminder to many of your brethren. You’re only reminding them of what could happen to them. You’re causing everyone around you undue distress.”
“I don’t give a fuck—“ Vis starts and that’s when I decide to step in. I can’t stand here and listen to them talk to him like that for another second.
“Vis?” I say sweetly as I walk around the corner, a smile for him already on my lips.
Vis blinks at me as if he can’t believe his eyes. “Ameia?”
