by Alec Hutson
Then with a grimace her hand closes around the arrowhead. I feel a pulsing warmth emanate from Valyra, making my skin tingle, and she grimaces as she pulls hard. The metal is cutting into her hand but she ignores it, and before my shocked eyes she draws the arrow from Bell’s body, crying with pain. She throws that away as well, then lays her bloody palm on the wound, and before my eyes the pulsing blood that has begun to freely flow dries up, and the flesh begins to knit.
Deliah looks at her with wide eyes, her jaw hanging open. “You are blessed,” she whispers softly.
Valyra doesn’t respond, sweat trickling down her face. Finally, she lurches backwards with a wrenching cry, and I leap up to grab her before she can fall.
I hold Valyra to my chest as she shivers, staring down in wonder at Bell. Her back is rising and falling, and where the arrow was sticking from her back is only a knotted white scar. With a groan she rolls over, and then to my astonishment she actually sits up, her long hair obscuring her face. Her hand touches where the arrow pierced her chest, and then she seems to realize that she’s not wearing a shirt and gives a startled gasp.
“What happened?” she murmurs. I let go of Valyra – as she seems to have found her feet again – and kneel down to embrace Bell. “There was a woman with a bow . . .” she murmurs into my ear.
“You’re safe now,” I assure her, holding her tighter. From over her shoulder I see Xela and Fen Poria ascending the stairs. The feral is lashed with gray-green blood, and the shadowdancer has a cut on her cheek. She looks grim.
“Shalloch?” I ask, and Xela shakes her head.
“Dead. He died well, though. Saved my life. Vesivia is with him . . . she’s mourning.”
Grief hits me, a hollowness opening in my chest. Valyra safe, Bell alive, the Stranger dead . . . everything had been too perfect. Whatever he had done that had brought him to the muckers, Shalloch had been a good man. He had been the first to welcome Bright Eyes, and he had cheered me when I’d felt hopeless and alone in Zim.
“This place,” Xela says, looking around in wonder. “This is the Lady’s temple. When we become shadowdancers we are brought here to pledge our souls to her and the Umbra.”
“She was here,” I say to Xela.
“Who was?”
“Your . . . Lady. The goddess of the shadows. She freed us from the power of that creature.” I jerk my head in the direction of the Voice’s corpse.
“What in the abyss is that thing?” Deliah asks, her mouth twisting in revulsion.
Xela does not even look at the dead Stranger, holding my gaze fiercely. “The Lady? Are you sure? She’s . . . just a legend, really. I . . . I’m not even sure if I believe in her . . .”
I shrug. “Well, something helped us.”
“We need to tell the abbess,” Xela says.
I nod into Bell’s shoulder. Her hands are still clutching at my back like she fears I’ll vanish if she lets go of me.
“Fen, what are you doing?” Xela asks, and with some effort I twist my neck to see what’s going on.
Fen Poria has guided Valyra back to the arch, and she turns at Xela’s voice. Then she reaches into her pocket and takes out two objects. One is a silver sphere, and she tosses it towards Deliah, who catches it. The other thing is . . .
“Where did you get that?” I cry as Fen Poria fits a chunk of red stone veined with black into the indentation set in the archway. She only smiles at me.
I struggle to free myself from Bell, but it’s like I’m wading in deep water, and before I can pull away, the rippling golden veil has returned. Valyra’s head snaps around in shock, and our eyes meet just before Fen Poria gives her a shove that sends her stumbling through the portal.
She’s gone.
“Valyra!” I cry, lunging towards the gate.
But I’m too far. Fen Poria gives a languid wave, then slips the key free of the archway and follows Valyra into the shimmering radiance.
The portal vanishes.
Shocked, I turn to stare at the others. For a long moment no one moves.
“What . . . Why . . .” I manage.
Like she’s moving in a dream, Deliah holds up the silver sphere and gives it a twist. Two halves separate, and she pulls out a folded paper bird covered in squirming writing.
I leap to my feet and rush to her, the spell broken, and snatch the bird away. With trembling hands, I unfold it and begin to read.
My dearest Alesk (or Talin, if you prefer),
You are reading this, so either Fen Poria is dead, or she has left this note behind for you to find. I can only hope it is the latter, for if she has died, this must mean she has failed. And the world will likely follow her soon into oblivion.
If you remembered anything of me – which you clearly don’t – you would know that I rarely interfere. But I was once a Mistress of the Keys, and I have the knowledge of how to fashion pathways that lead from one Gate to another. Do not try to follow – the key you hold will take you to a very different place.
By now, the dead gods willing, my servant Fen and the weaver should have joined me in my estate in the City of Masks.
I am sorry, though in the end this whole imbroglio is truly your fault. But perhaps you are not completely beyond redemption. Perhaps none of us are, which is a thought I haven’t dared entertain for centuries.
Come to Ysala and I will tell you more. I could not risk the weaver falling into Ezekal’s hands, or the creatures he consorts with. I refused to take a stand with you once, in the waning days of our world, but perhaps I can make an attempt at righting that past wrong. I will wait for you.
In affection,
Avelia shen-Anoth, Contessa of the Gilded Lynx Trust.
I let the letter drop from my hand, numbness creeping over me.
“What does it say?” Deliah asks, desperation in her voice. Xela dashes closer and scoops it from the ground, her lips moving as she starts to read.
“Fen Poria was working for the Contessa this whole time,” I manage, still trying to dig myself out from under the avalanche of what just happened. I swallow, my gaze traveling from Deliah to Bell to Xela. They are waiting for me to say something.
“We have to return to Ysala.”
Thank you so much for reading The Twilight Empire!
The story concludes in The Hollow God, to be released on July 15, 2020
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About the Author
Alec Hutson grew up in a geodesic dome and a bookstore and he currently lives in Shanghai, China. To sign up for his mailing list or send him a message, please go to authoralechutson.com
