Entombed in Glass (Unfortunate Soul Chronicles Book 2)

by Stacey Rourke

  “I wouldn’t attempt movement quite yet, lest you want to empty the contents of your gullet on the floor,” a raspy voice suggested, accompanied by clinking bottles and scuffed steps.

  “Where am I?” I managed, tongue dry and swollen.

  “Back at the castle,” King Liam explained, edging into my sight line. “I called upon the High Priestess to aid you. It’s the least I could do. This is my fault, and I feel simply dreadful.”

  “As you should.” Pushing past him, the High Priestess set a clay bowl of water on the end table beside me, its contents sloshing out onto the wood. “I warned you of what could happen. Now, this lad gets to pay the price. With all due respect, Your Highness, off with you. Let me tend to him.”

  “Of course,” the king accepted with a nod and moved to the door. “Keep me apprised on his progress. The sooner he can claim that mirror, the sooner we can find a way to remove this affliction.”

  The moment the door thumped shut behind him, the High Priestess wrung out a rag from within the bowl. “There is no way to remove this burden, don’t set your mind to that. I told the king as much before he bid me to invoke it. But a mind determined is hard to sway. The most we can do, is help you to manage it.”

  I winced as she brought the cloth to my forehead. Muscles contracted and rigid, spittle foamed at the corners of my mouth. Behind my lids, war raged.

  The Priestess, locked in magical battle against a dark fae. Bolts of energy, cast from their palms, demolishing the forest in sprays of green and black.

  “Just as I suspected.” Clucking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, the round-faced woman pulled her hand back. “Your muscles seize when you have an episode. Don’t tell me what you saw. That knowledge is not mine to possess. Could you detach yourself from it, I wonder? Did you know it wasn’t real?”

  Raising one arm, heavy as an iron anchor, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It looked, smelled, and sounded real. Who was I to argue?”

  “Mhmm, mhmm.” Grey hair, tucked back in a haphazard bun, waggled as she dipped her head to search her bag of supplies. “We can’t have you getting lost in a vision. You’re no good to anyone that way. Is there a theme to what you see? And spare the incumbrance of details, please.”

  “Death … and pain.” Giving life to the visions by speaking of them out loud caused bile to scorch up the back of my throat.

  “Every time?”

  “Exclusively.”

  “Thought as much,” she muttered to herself, dropping a few chosen items onto the dusty mattress with a muffled thump. “More will come, of a less dire lot. An onslaught of information has been forced upon you. Your mind is working tirelessly to decipher it all.” Her gnarled, arthritic hands twisted and braided a string of twine. Sizing it to the proper needed length, she broke the unneeded thread with her teeth. “I’m going to have to touch you again. Brace yourself, lad.”

  “Mhmm.” I grimaced, biting back the jolt of her skin brushing mine.

  Quickly, the High Priestess worked. Placing a smooth black stone in the center of my palm, she tied it with the braided twine, then looped the three loose ends around my wrist, pinkie finger, and index finger before securing it with a square knot.

  “Close your hand around that,” she ordered, tone leaving no room for argument.

  Obediently, I obliged. The second I enveloped the smooth stone with my touch, a bite of cold potent enough to make the Arctic mer-folk shiver shocked through me. “Mother Ocean’s crater crack! What was that?” Spreading my fingers out wide, I attempted to shake off the lingering effects.

  Loosening the ties, the priestess inspected the flesh beneath. “That was a stone infused with a lone tear from the Ice Queen. Sweet girl. Horrible to throw surprise parties for. That poor reindeer never saw it coming.”

  “And what was the point of this experiment?” I asked, gaze fixed on the stone ceiling overhead. “To see if you could make me squeal like a little girl?”

  “See that?” she asked, smacking my arm once, and again. “And that? I’m touching you and you’re not having a vision. The pain allows you to keep yourself in check. This isn’t cruelty, it’s control. Feel yourself slipping into a vision, close your hand around that. The shock may not be enough to pull you out of it altogether, but it will remind you of what’s real and what’s not.”

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, finding the phrase horribly inadequate.

  Gathering her scattered supplies, she dropped them unceremoniously into the bag from whence they came. “I only wish I could do more.”

  Holding my hand up before me, I studied the muted black stone now so crucial to my sanity. “Will this help me find the mirror?”

  Brow puckering, the High Priestess’ mouth opened, only to have her sentiment cut off by a knock at the door.

  “High Priestess Flora, it’s Queen Evelyn,” her sweet voice trilled from the other side of the heavy wood door. “A thousand apologies for the intrusion. I mean only to check on Alastor’s well-being.”

  Shoving off the edge of my mattress with a huff, the priestess I now knew as Flora padded to the door. “I can’t exactly deny access to her royal highness of enchanting perfection,” she muttered to herself. Hand curling around the polished brass doorknob, she threw it open and offered a curt nod of respect to the high lady of Caselotti. “Your Majesty.”

  Head falling back against the pillow, I treated my sleepy eyes to a long blink.

  “Flora.” Gracing her with a sweet smile, Queen Evelyn handed over a tightly wrapped bundle. “I brought you thistle and poppy from the royal gardens. I remember you used them in quite a few of your salves.”

  Begrudgingly, Flora’s expression softened. I wouldn’t say she warmed to her new visitor, but looked slightly less like she had been sucking lemons. “My supply has run short, and I’m in need of these. Thank you for not bringing me a completely worthless gift.”

  A zestful peal of light-hearted laughter bubbled from Evelyn’s lips. “Oh, madame, you are such a treat!”

  “Wasn’t trying to be,” Flora mumbled. Cradling the bundle in her arms, she shuffled to her satchel to stow them away.

  “And how is our patient doing today?” Evelyn chirped. Folding her hands demurely before her, she floated to the edge of my bed with effortless grace.

  I filled my lungs to capacity and opened my eyes in search of a glimmer of divinity from the shimmer that surrounded the queen, even in her ailing state.

  My hungry gaze hunted, and found … nothing good or holy.

  Even the somber gloom of sickness had vanished. A fiery red blaze cocooned her, veins of commanding black pulsing through it.

  Pulse beating an ominous chorus in my temples, beastly unease hatched in my gut and wriggled out a warning. No miraculous healing was to thank for this. Darkness writhed within the queen, cloaked in the skin of an angel.

  Closing my hand around my new stone of salvation, I clasped it tight and prayed for release from this fresh hell. Nothing changed. Biting back the pain, I squeezed harder still, barely suppressing the scream choking up the back of my throat.

  Blinking her alarm, Evelyn’s head tilted. “Alastor? Are you well?”

  My lungs scorching with anguish, and it felt as though my gills returned without warning, dooming me to suffocate on dry land.

  Salvation came in the form of the High Priestess. Seeing my distress, she shooed the regal queen toward the door. “He wasn’t ready for this. I see that now. We need to let him rest, and prepare for his heroic journey ahead.”

  “Yes, of course.” Evelyn forced a tight smile, the extravagant folds of her gown snapping and settling as she strode to the door.

  In a moment she would be gone … yet, I had to know.

  Forcing my mouth open, the words came rough as gravel. “Your Highness, before I begin my quest, I must know. The advice you gave me before, does it still hold true?”

  Evelyn’s brow puckered, somehow making her look all the more beguiling. “My mind is often m
uddled by sickness. If you would be so kind as to remind me?”

  The lie souring on my tongue, I spat the words with feigned neutrality, “You told me to retrieve the mirror, no matter the cost.”

  Tipping her head, she granted me an enchanting smile. “That alone is my heart’s wish.”

  Wallowing in grief, I closed my eyes. Could it be? Had the horrific vision I saw already come to pass? Did some form of malevolent darkness now rule the beloved queen?

  If so, I had failed her while lying on my back like a barnacle.

  Hand closing tight around the stone, I reveled in its burn.

  Chapter Ten

  “Where are we off to?” Sterling asked. Perched on the edge of the mattress, his legs crisscrossed beneath him.

  Stomping around the room, my bare feet slapped against the cold slate floor. After tucking my dagger into the back of my belted slacks, I flung the cloak he gifted me around my shoulders and thumbed the button into place. “We are useless to these people, and therefore are leaving. Having failed before even beginning, there’s no sense in wallowing in their disappointment when they learn their queen is already lost to them.”

  “Especially with her still walking around and smiling.” Sterling blinked my way, head listing as if weighing my lunacy. “That body of logic has no legs under it at all.”

  “Whether they accept it for truth, or not, doesn’t make it any less so.” Shoving on one boot, then the other, I stalked for the door.

  “I fear you’ll hate yourself if you go,” Sterling tsked.

  Throwing the door open, I growled through my teeth, “I’m prepared to live with that.”

  “I’m not,” Sterling trilled, letting one shoulder rise and fall in a casual shrug.

  I blinked, and the world shifted. Staggering back to reclaim my faltering footing, my back smacked into the far wall of the bedroom. My boots were back off, cloak slung over the chair, dagger sitting on the bureau where I claimed it. The door was clasped shut once more, taunting me with the promise of eluding escape.

  “I’m right back where we started from! What did you do?”

  “I put you back where we started from. You just said that. You should listen when you talk.” Popping to his feet, Sterling shook out his legs.

  “Don’t do it again,” I warned, collecting my belongings a second time.

  “That directive is a bit unclear.” Sterling tapped at his chin with the tip of one finger. “What is the it you refer to? Follow you? Speak to you? Or, perhaps, you meant this?”

  Another hiccup of time and that stone wall was snagging the fabric of my shirt yet again.

  “How are you doing this, you infuriating little imp?” I bellowed, face reddening with rage. “Plus, what business is it of yours if I stay or go? These people tried to lock you in the stocks upon your first meeting. Do you claim to care for them?”

  Lacing his fingers, Sterling stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Make me sound cold and heartless if you like. I’m not the one condemning the queen to a death sentence.”

  “The good in her has already died.” That ugly truth weighted my bones with defeat, sagging my posture. “There’s nothing left to save.”

  “My how life has jaded you.” Sterling curled around me with feline fluidity, his gaze scouring my face as if searching for a thread to unravel. “Have you thought at all of Princess Snow? Don’t we owe it to her to at least attempt to save her mother? Terrible things can befall a child not raised by a loving hand.”

  Dragging one palm over my weary eyes, I said a silent prayer for clarity. “I didn’t realize you were such an advocate to the cause.”

  Forehead rippled with confusion, Sterling pulled back. “Cause? Or did you say claws? Is there a monster afoot?” A shudder rippled through him, and lucidity once again sharpened his foggy stare. “Oh, yes! Quick now. I feel this reality is fading away. Concentration through limerick should allow it to stay. I have a proposition, good for us as it is for the baby. A mission for answers, and long-awaited prophecy, maybe. We could set off for adventure, just as we planned. Brave and bold lads, following the king’s command. Along the way, we each use the mirror to find our own truth. I have many questions and find myself a piss-poor sleuth. After that, we give the king his prize, and the path of our future will be ours to decide. I will finally return to the family I miss, while you can swim home to that deep-sea abyss.”

  “Why … are you speaking in rhymes?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “What can I say,” he replied with a pained grimace, “it passes the time.”

  Retrieving my dagger from the bureau, he flipped it over and offered it to me by the hilt. “Can we venture on together as partners chasing destiny? Or shall I continue looping time until you’re as mad as me?”

  As I accepted the blade, I found myself softening to the strange little man.

  “Tonight, we rest. Tomorrow,” hitching one brow, I borrowed his melodic cadence, “on to the quest.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Unable to sleep, I paced the length of my room long after the moon rose to its highest glory. Passing the line of preparedness, I crossed straight into obsessive territory as I checked my satchel of supplies time and again. Food, water, clothing, map, weapons, an enchanted artifact that prevented me from being sucked into a hallucination and lost forever—you know, camping essentials. I couldn’t help but think I would feel more confident if I had any idea where I was going. Unfortunately, King Liam and his men whispered behind closed doors with Sterling over that. Something he had said had convinced the king he could get us to Marooner’s Rock. Sterling. The guy who found himself in trees with no recollection of how or why. There was a good chance he would be the death of me.

  It was on yet another pass of the mirror when a strobing blue light from within beckoned me to it. Edging closer, my own lost and confused reflection was nowhere to be seen. In its place, watery diamonds danced and shifted in an enchanting light show orchestrated by the demands of the current. Sea gulls cawed. The tide crashed against a far-off shore. My feet stumbled closer, drawn to the glimpse of home.

  Catching the side of the mirror, I leaned in as a figure appeared in the distance. Raven hair danced around enchanting features. An amethyst tail swiveled side to side with effortless grace.

  Unable to blink or exhale, I gawked at the impossible. “Vanessa?”

  As she neared, her hand rose in front of her, out-stretched fingers calling to me. Trembling, I matched the motion. I expected the cold nothingness of glass. Instead, my heart lurched in a stutter-beat when my fingers sank into rippling water. Energy crackled between us, the tips of her fingers floating to mine. Gills, running along the bottom of her rib cage, clamped shut in breathless anticipation.

  Time stopped.

  Reality bent to our will.

  Flesh found flesh. Tentative at first, not believing such a miracle to be possible. Urgency and insistence growing, our fingers laced together and held firm. Pulling against my hand, Vanessa drew herself to me, my name forming on her heart-shaped lips.

  Her arm followed mine out, the moonlight glimmering off her sandstone skin. Heart hammering, I watched her thick lashes brush the tops of her cheeks as she closed her eyes and crossed the barrier into the unknown.

  Fins were replaced by a shimmering gown of onyx and plum. An intoxicating smile warmed her features.

  I feared blinking, that such an ordinary act may chase this heavenly mirage away. Bringing her hand to my mouth, I dotted a kiss to her palm and breathed in her scent—the crisp, clean breeze after a summer storm.

  “Once again I’m astounded by your power. I never should have doubted you would find me,” I murmured against her velvet skin.

  “Yet you did?” The sweet cadence of her voice soothed my troubled soul.

  Weaving my fingers into her hair, I tipped her lips to mine. I hesitated, savoring the warmth of her breath on my face. “I am a silly, stupid man. And I will never make that mistake again.”

 
; White hot need blossomed in my core. Unable to hold back a minute longer, I crushed my mouth to hers.

  Sulfur.

  Death.

  Wailing agony.

  My eyes snapped open.

  Pulling back, I searched her face with the locked-on intensity of a shark smelling blood. “I haven’t been this happy since we laid in the red Caboma fields behind the castle together.”

  A rosy blush crept up her neck and kissed her cheeks pink. “You held me close and we daydreamed about the day we would rule the kingdom together. A moment, precious as a bubble, viciously popped by time and circumstance.”

  “I could say the same for your charm and influence.” Ice seeped into my tone. Hand snaking up, I closed my grip around her throat to plant her there.

  Fingernails scraping at my arm, she clawed for freedom. “Alastor, what are you doing?” The words escaped her in a panicked wheeze.

  “Funny thing about Caboma, it’s a fresh water plant,” I rumbled through my teeth. “It couldn’t be sustained anywhere near the salty depths of Atlantica. All merfolk know that. Which poses the question; who are you?”

  Mischievous glee crinkled the corners of her eyes, a mocking smile curling up the corners of her mouth. “Can’t blame us for trying, gorgeous. We were swimming off for our happily ever after for a moment there.”

  Releasing her, I took a wide step back. Goose flesh shivering down my arms. “You referred to yourself in plural form.”

  “Shame that you put all of this together before things got really fun.” As she spoke, Vanessa’s voice became a chorus of varying octaves and timbres. In an image that threatened to haunt me forever, my love’s face smoothed to a flat, inhuman canvas. Skin rippled. Flaps of flesh curled open. Two eyes morphed to six. The air shimmered, three distinct shapes squirmed from the confines of Vanessa’s form. Rolling and stretching, they grew, adapting their own characteristics as they right themselves.

  “Siren! Speak no more!” Recognizing the three-headed beast from the courtyard—because such a thing would be hard to forget—I overturned the table in my frantic scramble for distance.