“Mist seems to think that he and Rufus are the only survivors. Now he’s certain that Rufus is on the loose and planning something appalling.”
“The Felynx. Creatures of fire,” Virginia said softly. “Well … it’s possible that if Rufus feels he’s not answerable to the Spiral Court’s authority, he might embark on a drastic rampage of some kind.”
“How d’you mean?” Lucas sounded alarmed.
“He might want revenge on Albin. Fire against ice, anarchy against restriction. It’s about balance. Brawth rose…” Virginia paused. “You know our creation story, don’t you, Stevie?”
She gave a small shrug. “Mist told me a bit. I’m happier with science than myth. Qesoth was a vast fire elemental and Brawth was her shadow, her adversary?”
“No one knows if those tales are factual or symbolic, because the paradox of the Spiral is that, sometimes, we make things real by imagining them,” said Virginia. “Even humans can do that, to an extent. However, as ideas and as energies, Qesoth and Brawth are absolutely real.”
Stevie pulled her jacket around her shoulders. “Because Aelyr imagine them to be?”
“In a sense. Energy is real, after all. Storms and torrents. The sun’s radiation. Winter and summer. We call Brawth the shadow giant from the beginning and end of time. Not so long ago, Brawth rose—or an idea of him rose, with the same devastating effect—and very nearly brought an end to the Spiral and Vaeth itself.”
“That was a fun evening,” Lucas said dryly.
“The Earth nearly ended?” Stevie’s eyebrows rose. “And I didn’t notice?”
“It was early May, only a few years ago,” said Lucas. “You might remember massive thunderstorms, power cuts, trees all over the road … that sort of thing?”
“Oh … but weather happens. Everyone got up the next day. The world didn’t end, did it?”
“No. Brawth was made dormant again, thanks to the bravery of certain individuals.” Virginia gave Lucas a warm, meaningful look. “My concern is that an opposite force might rise in response, in the sort of automatic way that a pendulum swings. Qesoth might well rise in her turn. The Felynx were said to be closely aligned to her, being creatures of fire and sun. So, if Rufus is planning mischief, he might find a heavyweight power on his side.”
“I don’t think Mist has even thought of that,” Stevie said uncertainly.
“We should warn them,” said Lucas. He’d gone nearly grey.
“Warn who?” Stevie asked.
“Everyone. All Vaethyr and Aelyr. Tell the Spiral Court…”
Virginia was shaking her head. “Tell them what? Luc, I’m only speculating.”
“But if there’s a rising threat, I need to know. Am I expected to defeat it on my own? I can’t do it. I’m not Lawrence!”
“Lucas,” Virginia said firmly, “Lawrence didn’t act alone. You know that. No one expects you to take sole responsibility. You’re an employee of the Spiral Court.”
“But I’m the Gatekeeper.” His breathing quickened. He looked so concerned that Stevie wished she knew him well enough to put her arm around him.
“Yes, just that. Not Lord Protector of the entire Otherworld. We have to consider various possibilities without scaring ourselves to death.”
“I know.” He took a long breath. “But how can I think of everything? Even Iola can’t be everywhere at once. No wonder Lawrence…”
He stopped, but Virginia finished for him, “Went a little mad?”
“In any case,” Stevie put in, “warning people about things that haven’t happened yet could be dangerous. Daniel was taken because his paintings were supposed to be leaking secrets. Which means someone must be able to interpret the hidden messages he was channeling.”
“Channeling from where, though?” Virginia said, frowning.
“Allegedly, from me.” Stevie sighed. “I don’t know how, because I’m the ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,’ like that film where they got their memories wiped.”
She was quiet, remembering the previous night when they’d all looked at Daniel’s paintings on her laptop screen. Mist had barely spoken, only stared with moist eyes at images of his parents and their Felynx courtiers, lined up like stylized angels. He and Rufus—feline, not quite human, but still recognizable—had appeared in some of the paintings. But, Stevie thought again, why were there so many of Aurata? Why was she so prominent, much more so than her brothers or parents? And what the hell was her “Promise”?
After an hour or so, Sam and Rosie returned, looking grim and disheveled. “No sign,” said Sam. “We’ll try again when it gets light.”
Rosie touched Stevie’s shoulder. “Try not to worry about him. Easier said than done, I know.”
“He might find his way here, anyway,” said Virginia. “Come on, make yourselves at home. Sam will help me get a meal ready, won’t you, love? You’ll stay the night, I hope. We’ll talk things over until the picture seems clearer.”
Stevie stood up, restless. “No. I mean—please, stay and eat and talk, whatever. But I can’t just sit here. I need to find Mist.”
* * *
She let herself out of the cottage, crossed a lush garden and entered a meadow beyond. The landscape was soaked in deep ultramarine twilight, the sky ablaze with constellations she’d never seen before. Every detail felt heightened, more intense than on Earth. Elysion’s beauty was surreal and intoxicating. Stevie found herself on the bank of a wide, shallow stream that gushed noisily along the valley floor. In front and curving to her right, cliffs protected Virginia’s domain.
She called Mist’s name, but heard no answer. She turned and walked upstream until she came to a waterfall that plunged down a high rock wall.
Stevie stood on the large smooth stones that edged the waterfall basin and stared into the churning water. The sight disturbed her, yet she couldn’t move away. Water equally scared her and fascinated her. She remembered nightmare times in her foster homes, when she’d filled bathtubs to overflowing and climbed in to see how it might feel to drown … without the faintest idea why she’d felt the need to do so.
Her fylgia stood at her feet, one paw raised and its muzzle aimed at the pool, like a pointer dog. Cool spray chilled her face. The sheer energy of cascading water electrified her. She stared and stared into the pool, hypnotized.
Someone moved softly alongside her. “Stevie?” Virginia said from the gloom. “It’s all right, the others stayed inside. You really shouldn’t be alone.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Stevie watched the roiling water. “My dear friend Daniel’s in danger. I have a gaping hole in my identity. I’ve lost my job, the only thing that kept me sane. Now I’ve lost Mist, too. I’ve no idea what’s going on or what I’m supposed to do about any of it.”
“Let’s start with what I see.”
Her matter-of-fact tone arrested Stevie. “Okay, go on.”
“You’re Aetherial. It’s a gracefulness, a glow, a look in your eyes as if you’re harboring unearthly secrets…”
Stevie laughed. “I wish.”
“My dear, you’re not the first person I’ve met who’s Aelyr and yet absolutely unaware of it.” Virginia sat down, tugging Stevie’s arm so she sat with her. Spray sifted over them. “I chose to live here in Elysion, but as time passed, I started to forget I’d ever lived on Earth among mortals. I had a vague memory of a husband and sons, but it became distant … as if it happened to someone else. Imagine, forgetting my own family! But this can happen, and it’s disturbing, if not downright terrifying.”
Stevie had a sudden memory of Nanny Peg, looking up with clouded eyes to ask, “Are you one of the nurses, dear?” Tears stung her eyes.
“Your memory came back, though?” she said. “Like being reborn?”
“You could say that. We’re lucky to get chances that mortals rarely get. Second, third, fourth chances … Are you all right?”
Stevie wrapped her arms around her bent knees. Her hair slid forward to shroud her. “I’m
trying to stay calm, but I’m scared to death.”
“I know. That’s the flip side of being semi-mortal. It’s as if we can’t keep up with ourselves. We’re constantly being dangled over the void of the unknown.”
“It’s the water.” Stevie looked up, and let her gaze drop with the torrent into the foaming basin beneath. The depths appeared bottomless, glowing deep green as if lit from below, all too welcoming. “I’ve always had a thing about water, like a phobia, except I can’t tear myself away from it.”
“Melusiel,” said Virginia, nodding.
“What do you mean?”
“You know the Spiral’s divided into five realms? Asru for the spirit, Naamon for fire, Elysion for earth, Sibeyla for air, Melusiel for water. Like the primal elements, although more complex in reality. All Aetherials have an affinity, which is usually but not always connected to the realm they were born in. Everything about you suggests your origins are Melusiel.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Neither. It’s a clue to your nature, that’s all.”
“Why does water frighten me, then?”
“That I can’t answer.”
“It’s like an urge to stand on a cliff edge even though you’re frightened of heights. Which I am, incidentally. Also I’m not keen on centipedes, and as for millipedes … I think it’s that whole segmented invertebrate thing that gives me the creeps.”
Virginia interrupted, “Changing the subject is not going to help. Let’s think about water. Relax and see what comes into your mind.”
“Are you trying to hypnotize me?”
“I’m trying to help. Often a light trance will dissolve memory blocks.”
“But I’m afraid to remember.” She was trembling. Her heartbeat felt like an earthquake.
“I know.” Virginia placed a gentle hand on her spine.
“I’m afraid I might dive in and never come back up,” said Stevie.
“Is that what you want to do? Go into the pool?”
“Yes. I feel as if I’ll die if I don’t plunge in there. But that’s insane. I’m not going in; it’s dangerous and I’ll drown.”
“Can’t you swim?”
“I don’t know. I doubt it. I’ve never tried, because of this phobia.”
“Well, you can hang on to the rocks.”
Stevie gasped. “Aren’t you supposed to dissuade me?”
“No,” Virginia said coolly. “If it’s what you need to do, then you must.”
“I can’t,” Stevie whispered. “But…”
Fear rushed through her, louder than the waterfall, as she rose to her feet and threw off her jacket, her boots and clothes and underwear. She stood on the lip of the pool, not caring that she was naked because there was only Virginia to see her. The next she knew, she was leaping feet-first towards the center of the pool; and then she was underwater, pushed down and down by the water’s force, the torrent roaring in her ears.
She was sinking into green glass, air bubbles rising from her mouth and nose. Complete terror filled her. Panic. She was drowning. Down and down through an infinite lake. She clawed the water, desperately trying to scramble upwards. No revelations came, no fylgia to guide her, only the knowledge that she must resurface or die …
A shape came snaking towards her through the emerald gloom. It was blue-black yet iridescent, some kind of serpent—no, more of a seahorse, covered in scales that flashed purple and red and orange, adorned with fronds and tendrils like a leafy sea dragon.
Its sinuous form flowed over her, touching her, gripping her with its tail wrapped around her left thigh. She arched her back, helpless. She felt its muscular scaly length pressed along her stomach as the seahorse head swung close to her face. Entwined, the two drifted along the lake bed. She put her arms around the creature, in some vain hope that it would carry her to the surface. The spokes of its ribs pressed into her. She was aware now that she’d stopped breathing and was yet still alive, calm and numb and resigned. She looked into the leafy dragon’s black eyes, saw its mouth gaping to reveal fangs—and then it struck.
She felt two needles pierce her collarbone. A convulsion of pain and ecstasy made her arch like a bow. Loss of consciousness came as a blissful release.
* * *
Was it possible to live in two worlds at once, without attracting jealousy? Fela had little ego, but even the wildest of Tashralyr could not have resisted basking in triumph. She enjoyed her short time of glory, of walking proudly through the lanes of Azantios with Karn and their fellow athletes, wearing garlands of victory. They were paraded at palace gatherings, their silver-grey forms conspicuous among the gilded Felynx, their silken fur adorned with finery sewn from watery silks and silver mesh. Aurata was always there as her patron and protector. Rufus was never far away with an entourage of his own; yet he was always glancing at his sister with Fela; wanting what he could not have.
And Mistangamesh … he haunted the edge of the crowd, looking troubled. Sometimes he was with Poectilictis, sometimes alone or in a small group. When Fela saw his friends around him she felt strange, because they were close to him in a way she could never be. To Aurata and Rufus, she was a coveted plaything. To Mistangamesh, though, she was nothing, because he didn’t play such cruel games. He moved in a higher circle that barely overlapped with hers.
When the races and the parties were over, Fela would go home to the quiet, watery lands of her own eretru, and try to live among them as if nothing had changed. Karn had been like a brother to her. He was a good and kind Tashralyr, but even his heart was not great enough to resist envy when she began to outrace him every time. They drifted apart.
Her own people were different with her now. Not openly hostile, but less welcoming. Many resented the Felynx with their power and pretentions, so Tashralyr who associated with them were viewed with suspicion. Even life among her fellow athletes was no easier. They were too competitive; their admiration of her prowess soon soured to jealousy. She thought of running away, but to where? In any case, Aurata would not let her. And she’d grown attached to Aurata, in an uneasy way.
Fela thought that she’d rather become a gracious loser than an outcast. Pride, however, would not let her. While she was racing and winning—and basking in the adoration of the Felynx—only then was she truly alive, and in ecstasy.
One misty evening she was alone, slipping between ferny trees down a long gully that led to her favorite lake. She paused, watching vapors drift thickly over the swampy ground at the lake’s edge. Then she heard someone call her name. “Fela?”
At first she thought it was Karn. She heard the call again, emanating from the heart of the swamp. Was someone in distress? Curiosity led her on, one paw after another.
“Fela!” Still faint yet distinct, the voice lured her. She crossed the swamp, stepping on spongy green cushions of moss. The water was only a paw’s depth below her. Otter-like, she was a creature who lived beside water, not in it. She knew there were water-breathing undines who lived in the depths, but they were shy beings, rarely seen. To them, Fela was an intruder. In her four-legged form, she had waterproof fur, but no gills, nor any other means to breathe underwater.
“Fela, I must see you!”
Fainter now, and farther away, the voice was imploring. Male or female, she wasn’t sure … could it be Mistangamesh calling, wanting to see her in secret? The thought crossed her mind because he’d tried to speak to her in the palace, to warn her away from his sister and brother, but Aurata had scolded him and swept Fela out of his sight.
Now hope and curiosity drew her. She had no reason for suspicion. Although Aetherials had their differences and conflicts, there was rarely violence.
“Fela?”
Vapors thickened and the swamp spread all around her. She was no longer sure of her way back.
“Who’s there?” she called.
Something reared out of the water and seized her. She was pinioned, turned over, and forced down into the swamp. All turned to confusion. She felt hers
elf being pushed underwater, the surface closing over her face. She held her breath and struggled, but a dark shape of terrible strength was holding her down without mercy. She saw the surface rippling above her head, distorting her killer’s shape, saw the last of her breath escape in a string of glassy bubbles.
Darkness carried her down.
13
Persephone’s Chamber
“Is there anything else?” The voice issued from a silhouette standing against a dim green light. She glimpsed a long black dress clinging to a curvy figure, a veil of raven hair … Virginia? “There’s something you’ve left out.”
Fela was tumbling downwards through channels of wet black rock. She wound between the feet of the living but no one saw her. Reduced to a pale soul-essence, she darted like a terrified cat down convoluted walkways and terraces, descending long flights of steps deep into the city’s secret heart, down into cellars that became caverns and tunnels, a ghostly streak against dark rock. She had no idea how she’d come here. There was nothing in her mind but fear, and the terrible cold reek of water drawing her like gravity into the deepest subterranean caves of the underworld.
* * *
Daniel sat in the workroom and began a new drawing. He felt compelled to work, even though his right eye was swollen shut and his left arm aching where Oliver had twisted it and thrown him down. His kidneys throbbed. His skin was a tender mass of bruises beneath his clothes. Still the visions kept coming.
The huge floor-to-ceiling window gave a breathtaking view of blue sky, red rock studded with cactuses, and a distant glint of barbed, electrified fences. The house ranged over four stories, poised on the hillside above Jigsaw Canyon. The workroom they’d given him was bigger than his London studio, yet took up only a corner of the second-lowest floor.
There were at least thirty Aetherials living here, sharing duties of security and housework in echoes of a religious commune. Like Oliver, they tended to stay in human shape, with a dress code of dark, smart suits for male and female alike. Oliver still hadn’t properly explained who they were, beyond describing them as “staff.”
Grail of the Summer Stars (Aetherial Tales) Page 25
