by H. D. Gordon
My teeth clenched, and I thought I remembered reading that Gnomes were mischievous creatures, always trying to sow discord.
“What’s the question?” Thomas asked, and I didn’t need to read his aura to know that he was feeling the same frustration as I.
“How do you really feel about her chances of survival?” the Gnome asked, jerking his hairy chin toward me now.
I almost breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that this was not such a bad question. Thomas had been the number one person who’d insisted on having hope, insisted that we would find a way to break the deal with Saleos. I was pretty sure I knew how he felt.
But as the silence stretched between the three of us, and I looked over at Thomas, my heart sank. Thomas stared at the Gnome as if he wanted to throttle him, but did not answer.
“Thomas?” I said, and my voice came out smaller than intended.
Thomas didn’t look at me as he answered, and something told me that this was because he couldn’t bear to.
“I’m not confident,” he said at last.
The Gnome raised his thick brows.
Thomas let out a sound that was half growl and half sigh. “I called in some favors with my colleagues, asking them to dig up whatever they could find about deals with Demons, and they all came back with the same answer.”
I could hardly breathe as I waited for him to finish.
“They all said the same thing. They said it’s hopeless.”
The Gnome was grinning from ear to hairy ear. “So when you say you’re not confident,” the Gnome pushed, “What you mean is…?”
“I don’t think we can do it,” Thomas answered, the words spoken so quietly that I wasn’t sure I’d actually heard them. Or maybe it was that I didn’t want to hear them.
The Gnome clapped his hands and stomped his feet again in that joyful little jig. “Right this way,” he said, and skipped down the path between the trees, not turning back to see if we’d follow.
“Aria—” Thomas began.
I shook my head, stalking after the stupid Gnome. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I pushed the new knowledge I’d just gained out of my head as we ventured deeper into the forest.
I’d heard as many stories about Seers as any supernatural, and I knew enough to know that one did not drop their guard around them. Tricky and powerful, Seers were said to be able to see the future, past, and present. Their magic was of the oldest sort—older even than that of the Angels and Demons, created at the birth of the universe.
And one could not trust a Seer. While they weren’t liars, they were known to twist the truth in a way that may as well be a lie. They worked for forces beyond our understanding, and were always out for those forces. While they might pretend to help others, the truth was that they had an agenda. Just like everyone else.
Never trust a Seer, the books had read. Avoid exchanges with them at all costs.
Well, I was already on my way to Hell in a hand basket, so I ignored these warnings as we drew nearer.
The Gnome stopped, looking over his shoulder at us. “Here we are,” he said.
I looked around. There was nothing but trees and more trees. I snatched the Gnome up by his collar before he could even think about trying to get away, hauling the little bastard right off his feet.
“There’s nothing here,” I growled.
The Gnome bared his teeth at me, and when he shifted into his birdlike form, I was forced to release him or risk slashes from his enormous claws. He disappeared into the canopy with a squawk.
I let out a curse that was not typical of me, but Thomas didn’t comment on it. He only pointed at a rope ladder hanging down the trunk of a nearby tree. I followed it up to see that it was attached to an old tree house that nearly blended right into the canopy.
“Oh,” I said.
Thomas only looked at me. I could tell from his aura that he wanted to say something about the whole him being hopeless situation, but he was a soldier as much as I was, and now was not the time or the place.
So I rolled my shoulders and gripped the lower rung of the rope ladder, hauling myself up to go see the Seer.
Chapter Eleven
Up and up and up.
It was a good thing I was not afraid of heights, because the tree house was much higher than it had looked from the ground. By the time we reached it, I was sweating, and my heart picked up in pace, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was due to exertion. Though there was no obvious danger, my instincts seemed to insist that there was something off about this place.
When I reached the top, I swung off the ladder and onto the tree house landing. A moment later, Thomas did the same. I leaned over the edge, surveying the ground far below.
Behind us, the door to the small structure nestled between the branches swung open with a creak, startling me enough to make me stumble back. Thomas placed a hand on the small of my back to steady me, but I found myself brushing off his touch. I peered into the dark entryway rather than looking at him, though I could feel his hazel eyes on me.
A soft voice floated out. “Come in,” it said.
My instincts said to run, but I pushed my feet forward. The inside of the tree house was shadowed, with thin streams of sunlight peeking in through the slats of wood. Once my eyes adjusted, I took another couple steps inside, inhaling the mossy green scent of the space.
“Daughter of Immortals and men,” the voice whispered, and the hairs on my arms stood on end.
“Um, yes?” I replied.
I could hear my heartbeat when the Seer stepped into a stream of light, illuminating her face. Her features were utterly average, her age undeterminable, and she wore a long robe of winter gray.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” the Seer said. Her milky white eyes flicked to Thomas. “And you,” she added. “Come.”
Thomas and I exchanged glances before following after. From the outside, the tree house looked no bigger than an eight-by-eight square foot place, but on the inside, I blinked and it was suddenly large enough to hold a football team.
The walls, floor, and roof were simple wooden slats, placed together haphazardly, green vines snaking in between them. Leaves covered the floor like a carpet, soft under my boots. There were places to sit, but not chairs. Rather, nooks and benches of gnarled branches, tree stumps that served as tables.
The Seer lowered into a nook and gestured for us to do the same. Thomas and I did as we were instructed.
The Seer smiled, revealing a row of perfectly straight white teeth. Her head was bald, her skin the color of skim milk, and her body covered in gray robes save for her hands, but in that smile, I caught a glimpse of beauty, some remnant of a long forgotten life.
For all of this, however, it was lack of an aura around her form that gave me pause. I’d met all kinds of creatures in my life, had visited several of the various realms, and every living thing—plants and trees, people, insects, and animals—all had aura signatures. Even inanimate objects, like rocks or buildings, had a certain ring of non-sentient energy around them, but with the Seer, though she was talking and blinking and apparently thinking, there was nothing. Nothing at all.
I flicked my gaze over to Thomas, making a note to ask him later if his special ability had picked up anything interesting, and brought my mind back to the task at hand.
“What do you see, Halfling?” the Seer asked, somehow aware of my observations.
“Nothing,” I answered. “I see nothing.”
The Seer’s chilling smile widened. “How can that be?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you, Thomas?” The Seer asked. “What do you see?”
Thomas didn’t answer. The Seer moved on as if he had, her milky eyes flicking back to me. “You made a promise, an exchange,” the Seer said, “and now you wish to renege.”
I didn’t bother defending myself. “Is it possible?” I asked.
“What can be believed can be achieved
,” she answered.
“How?”
Her thin shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to us,” Thomas said, the words spoken between clenched teeth.
The Seer looked back at him. If she’d had eyebrows, they would have raised, but her face was as hairless as her head. “The Necromancer speaks.”
Of course, I knew about Thomas’s abilities, but I’d never thought of him by that term, and I didn’t miss the way he seemed to cringe away from it.
“Please,” I said, “just tell us.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
The Seer nodded.
“Wait,” I said. “What do you want in return?”
Her bald head tilted. “Why should I want anything?”
“Because you’re…” I trailed off.
“Because I’m a Seer,” she finished for me.
I nodded, feeling shameful but unable to pinpoint why.
“If you insist on making an exchange,” the Seer said, “and I advise that you avoid such exchanges in the future, you can promise to remember something for me as payment.”
My throat felt tight. “Sure. What’s that?”
“That stereotypes may be stereotypes for a reason, but one should never forget that no population of beings can ever be lumped into a single group. Doing so is a gross misunderstanding of the universe, and shows our ignorance. Good and evil both run on a spectrum, dear, and as such, are highly subjective.”
Ouch. Suddenly, I knew exactly where the shame had come from.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Assumptions serve their purpose, but should be used with discretion.”
I nodded, waiting. The answer to the un-answerable question so close that I could hardly draw a breath.
“It’s simple really,” the Seer said. “Everything in the universe requires balance, so if you want to break the deal with the Demon named Saleos, an equal sacrifice must be made. That is the only way.”
“Then why’d you say it was pointless?” Thomas snapped. “If all we have to do is find another soul to trade.”
The look the Seer gave him had his aura spiking with fear—a rarity in Thomas even in the scariest of situations. His mouth snapped shut.
“Because Necromancer who has twisted my words,” the Seer said, saying the word as if it were somehow dirty, “Aria Fae is a hero, and do you know any heroes who would allow the sacrifice of another to save their own lives?”
The silence in the tree house was heavy, the revelation bitter.
The Seer said, “That’s the trouble with heroes. They’re annoyingly selfless.”
The way Thomas’s aura dimmed and darkened told me he knew she was right.
We both did.
The ride back to Grant City seemed shorter than the trip out.
When we reached our apartment building, neither of us spoke a word as we climbed the stairs. We remained silent as we went into Thomas’s apartment. Silent as he made us two cups of lavender tea.
The only sound was that of the clock hanging on the wall near the fridge, the sipping as we clutched the warm mugs between our hands.
Our eyes met. Thomas said, “I’m sorry.”
I searched my mind and came up short. “For what?”
“For what I admitted to the Gnome. I’ve been lying to myself about it for long enough that I started to believe the lie. The truth is, I’m terrified.” His hazel eyes were so full of emotion that I had to sit back. “I’m terrified of losing you, and I don’t know what to do.”
I stood from my chair. He scooted his chair back and opened his arms to me. I climbed into his lap, running my fingers through his dark hair. “It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, I was mad when I first heard it, because you were the main one insisting that we could overcome this…But I can’t be mad at you for being afraid, not when I’m damn terrified myself.”
Thomas’s strong arms tightened around me, and I pulled his head to my chest and rested my chin on the top of it. We sat there like that for a while, and I knew from his aura that he was afraid to say any words, because he was having trouble just keeping it together.
That made two of us.
Hope, such a fickle thing. I’d gained some from Surah, only to lose it again to the Seer. It struck me rather suddenly that that’s what my payment had been, that’s what the Seer had taken from me.
Hope.
“Was she right?” Thomas asked after a while.
“About what?”
He pulled back a little so that he could look at me, his hazel eyes almost pleading. “That you would never make an exchange, even if it meant saving yourself, even if we could find someone who deserved it to take your place?”
I laced my fingers around the back of his neck, my thumbs making small circles there. “What do you think, Thomas?”
His aura was painful to see then, because whatever thread of strength he’d been maintaining had clearly slipped through his grasp, and now there was only heartache and darkness. When a single tear spilled over his eye, I kissed it away gently, squeezing my eyes shut to keep my own tears at bay.
“I think the thing that made me fall in love with you is now the thing that is going to kill me,” he whispered.
I bit my lip, not sure I wanted to hear the answer, but having to ask. “And what’s that?” I said.
“Your altruism. Your insistence on always doing the right thing…. Your goodness. I told you before, you’re too good for this world, Aria Fae.”
I kissed his lips, cutting off conversation for a while, thinking that perhaps he was right; maybe I was too good for this world.
Either way, it seemed I was not long for it.
“This is great!” Sam exclaimed. “Easy. Simple. We find some butthead to take Aria’s place. Like a mass murderer. Oh! Or a child molester! I vote child molester!”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “We can’t do that, Sam,” I said.
She scoffed. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it isn’t right, and you know it.”
“How about a congressman?” she said. “Or a billionaire CEO who makes children in Africa dig cobalt out of mines for our devices? All good candidates.”
I put a hand on my friend’s shoulder. “While I appreciate your creativity, it’s still a no.”
Samantha’s mouth hung open for several seconds as she stared at me. I watched as surprise, then anger, then sadness flashed through her aura with the swiftness of strikes of lightning. Her eyes welled up, fogging up the lenses of her glasses.
“You can’t…” she began, “You can’t just die, Aria. I won’t let you. You did this for me. I-I can’t…”
She didn’t finish, started sobbing instead.
I pulled her into a hug, suppressing a sigh. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
“The fuck it is!” Sam all but screamed, pulling back from me. The curse word was jarring from her, as she hardly ever swore. When she ran off toward the restroom, I didn’t try to stop her.
We were at the warehouse, and I’d just shared what we’d learned at the Seer’s with Sam. Nick and Vivian had been holing up here, and the former sidled up to me now.
“That went well,” Nick said.
I shot him a look. “Not in the mood.”
I went over to the workout area and jumped up to grab the metal bar we’d affixed to the wall, knocking out pull-ups to work off some energy. Nick hopped up onto the space beside me and started doing the same.
“So the Seer confirmed what we already knew,” Nick said.
I grunted my affirmation.
“You want a distraction from all this?” he asked.
I paused in my pull-ups, looking over at him with a raised brow.
“Not a distraction like that,” he quickly amended.
“Then, what?”
Nick grinned. “Viv and I got a lead on the Relic. We’re going to check it out. Wanna come?”
<
br /> “Is it dangerous?” I asked.
“Definitely.”
I dropped down from the bar, landing lithely on my feet. “I’m in.”
Chapter Twelve
My heart felt light, my mind sharp and focused.
Around me, the smell of old books, glue and paper, filled the large space. I glanced toward the section that was blocked off and guarded, but not for too long. I didn’t want to draw too much attention.
I picked a tome off a nearby shelf and pretended to scan the pages, waiting for my signal.
The Library of Nur was located in the Between Realm, and was considered neutral territory, meaning any person or creature could walk in and use the facility and resources. Some of the books here were older than dirt, and the vast majority of the collection was open to the public.
Except for what sat behind that barred and guarded gate. The books there were said to hold information too valuable to be shared among the common folk. I’d bet it was the elite who’d come up with that conclusion.
The walls were dark, polished wood, along with the tables, chairs, and shelves. Five stories high, the ceiling was tall enough that I had to crane my neck back to look at it. On its surface, a mural of exquisite detail stretched from wall-to-wall, depicting every mythical creature that was known to have existed.
Right above me was a Firedrake, every scale, claw, and tooth painted to perfection. Even the diamond-shaped irises of its eyes seemed to follow me as I moved among the stacks. Over there was a Harpy, feathered wings extended beyond the length of a full-grown man, hands gripping sword in mid-strike.
I could have wandered in this place for hours, could spend forever searching the stacks, especially since there was a coffee shop with pastries from all the different realms taking up the entire eastern wall.
The western wall was made entirely of windows, from the floor to the ceiling five stories above. If one climbed all the way up there, they could see for miles across the Between Realms, could float among the clouds as they got lost between pages.
