The Sunderlands

by Anastasia King

  The night air tucks my body under its blanket of cold, comforting me in my fevered grief. For an hour of wishing I was lifeless, I lay on the ground in the dirt. Wishing I was with her under it.

  “Liri.” A familiar voice startles me to my feet.

  “Silas.” I wipe my eyes.

  “What are you doing out here alone and on the ground? It’s dangerous.”

  My lip trembles and my voice cracks as I try to explain. He hushes me and pulls me into his arms, dropping his crossbow to the ground to hold me. He pets my long red hair until I finally stop crying.

  “She loved you as much.”

  “Kat refused to break it off with Hayes. She chose him. She chose death!”

  “No, she chose to protect you. To carry the secret to her grave. A secret that would have destroyed you both in the eyes of all who care about you.”

  “It shouldn’t be that way.” I sniffle. “I love her. Thaniel loves Mathis!”

  “No one knows about them,” He says. “Love is love, Liri. We know that. I wish the entire world agreed. I wish everyone felt that protecting love was more important than protecting pride, hatred, and fear.”

  I cry again, leaning into him.

  “Love is imperishable. You lost her, but you did not lose her love. It lives on in you.” He sighs. “And there are others who have it and give it up rashly.”

  I lean back to look at him. His brown eyes swirl with pain and I finally register the smell of liquor on his breath.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Keres.” He laughs under his breath. “Whoring herself to Darius.”

  “What?” I push out of his arms. “You have proof of this? This is no light accusation—”

  “I saw them in the River Liri together.” He rubs the back of his neck. I await further explanation, but I know it’s not coming. His rage and jealousy are boiling. He kicks his crossbow away and I flinch, taking a step back. He screams curses and starts punching the nearest tree.

  “Silas!” I grab his shoulders. “You’ll break your hands.”

  “Better than breaking his neck!” He growls, shrugging me off and puffing out his chest. He paces back and forth.

  “How can I marry her now? She’s defiled herself.”

  I wipe my eyes, letting thoughts of Kat bury themselves in the back of my mind for now. I’ve grown accustomed to Silas’ mood swings. Now is not the time to mirror his emotion, but to be rational. “This is an arrangement older than either of us. You cannot break it off.”

  “She’s the one who has broken it!”

  “What did you see?” I ask, having a hard time picturing Keres in the water or even near the River Liriene. He describes the alleged thrall of passion, but still I doubt Keres would ever go into that water. Even if she were on fire, she’d sooner roll in mud.

  “Are you sure he wasn’t forcing her into the water? To torment her, to—”

  “I’m sure! She wrapped her body around him like the snake she is. Kissing him, caressing him. And he, her. I should kill him. Comrade.” He spits onto the dirt, pulling a canteen of what I assume is more liquor from his belt. He takes a swig. “Brother in arms.” He laughs. “Do brothers steal from one another?”

  “No.” I lower my eyes and pace beside him. He mumbles under his breath as I ponder Keres’ behavior. As a child, she drowned in the River Liri. Everyone remembers that day… How could she go into it? With Darius of Massara? What was she thinking!? “Her power — her curse. It’s corrupting her.”

  He whirls on me, “You’re defending her? You seriously think she loves him or that she would choose him over—”

  “No.” I lift a hand to silence him. “Thirteen years. I’ve warned Keres of what this power might do to her since she was seven. Who it will force her to become. What body could withstand the height of a God’s power without the very soul being compromised? The God of Death instilled His essence into her. What more should we expect from a God’s touch than for it to break a mortal?”

  “So, she’s broken. Sullied. Soul and standards, apparently.” He rubs the budding scruff on his chin. “All the more reason to marry her?” He rolls his eyes.

  “Forces beyond our power or Mrithyn’s brought you two together. You are bound to each other. Do not abandon her over this foolish dalliance. You cannot walk away.”

  “Why can’t I?” He gets in my face. “Because I’m a Knight? Because it is my duty to love her?”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Since she came into this very world.” His voice rumbles in his throat. He screams another curse of frustration, barking like a mad dog at my skirts.

  “Love is imperishable,” I suggest his own words to him. He’s still seething, but he stills.

  “Love is worth protecting more than pride. As you said. Is it your heart she injured or your pride? Do you now hate Darius, who has been your right hand since childhood? Do you fear losing her? What about your love for her?”

  He lowers his eyes and nods, raking his hands through his ragged blond hair.

  “Where are they now?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” He looks to the moon. I follow his gaze. “Still not at camp even at this hour. Neither is he. Yet, here I am and you’re right. I can’t walk away even though she’s run away. Wherever she is. Whatever she’s doing.”

  I sigh, “Only the moon knows her secrets now.”

  He nods and I look at him. “She will leave soon.”

  “What do you mean? Go where?” He flinches.

  “King Arias charged her with a task. She will go to court.”

  Silas runs his hands through his hair. “No.”

  “If you don’t want her to discover your secrets there…”

  “I must marry her. As soon as possible. Tomorrow—

  “Silas—”

  “No. I can’t lose her, Liri. If she goes there… courtiers gossip.”

  “You want to trap her. So, she can’t run once she knows the truth.” I arch my brows at him.

  “Don’t put it that way. You know what she will do.”

  “Buck like a wild mare. Choose Darius or whoever else instead.” I chew my lip in thought.

  “She has no choice. You said it yourself. I can’t walk away, and neither can she.”

  “What if you were to accompany her to court?” I suggest.

  “That would be catastrophic. You know it. My mother—”

  “Would burn you at the stake herself.”

  He laughs, but it’s mirthless. “I guess Kat was right about Adreana, then.” He smiles at me and looks back to the moon.

  “A Secret Keeping Goddess,” I ruminate. “Trouble is deciding whether that makes Her a dangerous or safe entity.”

  “Secrets are weapons.” His smile fades. “It makes Her the most dangerous.”

  14. A GOD BLEEDS

  Darius and I crossed the River Liri as the sun fell under the horizon.

  We plummet into the shadows of the Sunderlands Forest, keeping our guard up against Dalis soldiers and other wild things. Neither of us speak but I fear our hearts are conversing. Telling each other things they shouldn’t be. I feel your pain; I want to ease it.

  Our shoulders and hands brush against each other as we pick our way between trees and sideways glances. His fiery eyes are a torch in the darkness. I know the forest well enough to walk blindfolded, but he is the uncharted territory.

  Instead of wishing he would say something, I try to figure out what I should say to Ivaia when we reach the loft. Riordan told me to make up with her before I go to court. Can we really resolve this break in trust with our differences? My stomach balls up at the thought of facing her again. I’d rather sulk a little while longer. I rub the chill from my arms.

  Running into the forest at night; two unarmed warriors in a war-stricken land, still wet from the water… what was I thinking? I stop short.

  “Should we go back?”

  Darius stops too and turns to me. He rubs his callused hands over my bare arms,
and I welcome the warmth.

  “You haven’t even told me where we’re going.”

  “We’re almost there.” I remember the wards and attribute my suddenly shaken resolve to their influence. Never have they dissuaded me from continuing to my family’s house. But I feel like I don’t belong. Am I shying away from the energy of the wards or from the responsibility of repairing my relationship with Ivaia? Why did I involve Darius in this?

  “What am I doing?” I rub my hands over my face.

  “Hey, calm down.” He grabs me by the shoulders. “Talk to me.”

  I pause, biting my lip as he looks down at me. Fire in the dark. I kiss him and take courage from him. He doesn’t hold back, pulling my body against his as I open my mouth for his tongue to taste me. He releases me and my resolve is even weaker now. I’ve half a mind to let him fuck me on the ground right here, right now. But I wouldn’t want my first time to be that way. Although I do want it to be with him. I know that now. Silas’ honey eyes flash into my head. I blink them away, staring into Darius’. This is not a war I’ve prepared for.

  “Let’s keep going.” He tugs on my hand and continues walking with me in tow.

  “You don’t feel it?” I ask as we get even closer to Ivaia’s loft.

  “Feel what?”

  “The wards. Magic barricades my aunt’s home from the rest of the world.”

  “Oh?” He scratches his head and looks around.

  “That’s her house?” He points toward the decrepit hut.

  “That’s an illusion.”

  He looks at me like I’m crazy, brows pinched together. “I like to believe what I see,” he smirks at me.

  “Perhaps you better start believing in what you feel instead.” I put my hand against his hard abs. I feel his muscles tighten. “Do you feel queasy with panic?”

  Confusion crosses his brow. He tightens his jaw and focuses. He closes his eyes, searching his body for the sensation I’ve described. The ward’s energy is hitting me full force. A barrage of discomfort. I step closer to him to soothe myself.

  His eyes spring open as I near.

  “I feel only this.” He takes me in his arms. Our bodies react to one another, like sparks to kindling. Engulfed by the sensations of his touch and the magical vibrations of the wards, my body hums with pleasure. My breath catches in my throat and my vision dims from the heady concoction of the thrill of his touch and panic. Adrenaline spikes my blood and my heart kicks into overdrive. My knees go weak and my core clenches when he says my name, “Keres.” But it isn’t his voice I hear coming from his succulent mouth. It’s the telltale hiss of Mrithyn’s.

  I collapse in Darius’ arms.

  Am I dreaming? A stranger approaches me. A Human emerges from the shadows that surround me. His presence interrupts my thoughts, misplaced as stars would be in a day-lit sky. Even with half his face hidden beneath the hood of his long black cloak, he is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A single strand of jet-black hair crosses his brow, giving me an inkling of what’s beneath the hood. Serious blue-green eyes burn with what seems like hatred toward me.

  We’re walking together now. A path appears, one gray stepping-stone at a time. No world around us but black emptiness. Oblivion. I realize I must be dreaming. One moment he’s beside me, watching me from the corner of his eye and striding in sync with me. In the next, he is ahead of me, watching as I walk towards him.

  He doesn’t speak, but I try to. No words come out of my mouth, no voice. With what seems to be my mind, I ask, who are you?

  He doesn’t answer but the corners of his mouth kick up. As if he takes pleasure in me being confused.

  Where are we?

  Nothing.

  How do I get out?

  He laughs. The sound rumbles all over my skin. A deep and rich baritone. I feel my face heating with frustration. Why won’t you answer me?

  He moves to retrieve something from within the folds of his cloak, but before I see what it is someone calls out, startling us both. I recognize neither the voice nor the language. He turns to answer the call but not before locking eyes with me one last time. As if promising to continue this at another time.

  Okay, dream Man. I take another step down the stone pathway but lose my footing and fall into the abyss. I awaken from that dream, yet deep in another, and feverish, feeling as if I’ve fallen from a great height and landed on a bed of bones. I feel beads of sweat rolling down my face and neck but see nothing.

  “Where are you?” A child’s voice whines in the darkness. “I need help. Someone, please!”

  I drift towards that voice. Not truly myself, not in my body. My mind is carried like a wisp on the wind as it hisses my name.

  “Keres, get up and go. Go.”

  I can’t see!

  “Help!” That child’s voice cracks through the air like lightning. Flames lick at the edges of my mind. I open my eyes but still see nothing. I only feel seared by the rising heat and my lungs are full of smoke.

  “Fire! Fire!” The little girl’s voice trembles and she shrieks again, this time in a language I haven’t spoken since childhood. My native tongue.

  “Where are you?” She pleads again. The smallest, coldest hands grip me by my ankles. “I need help!”

  My awareness tumbles downward in an unending spiral. Farther and farther down a fox hole, towards her desperate cries for help. The fire rages around me and I choke on the billowing smoke. I try to answer her calls. I’m right here, I’m right here. Her needy hands scratch up my ankles and legs.

  “I cannot see!” She weeps and I cannot see either. A choir of voices, none of which belong to her or me, begin chanting in my mind. Her screams attempt to drown out their ancient tongue, but they overpower her. Hands that aren’t mine claw at my eyes, and I feel warmth and wetness on my skin. I lift a finger to my eyes and taste the drop. It’s blood.

  “Let me out, let me see! Let me out!” Her voice prays. Her hands scratch my eyes. I realize the voice is coming from me, from my throat. My mind bucks against the realization that this is not my body. I am the child; it is my voice that is screaming. It is somewhere in my mind that a fire is roaring, and the voices of the Gods chant their divine words. Blinded.

  “Help me!” I claw at the veil covering my face. I rip it from where it’s pinned into my hair. Something growls at my feet. I fall onto the cold hard floor. A massive animal rubs against my back, growling.

  I stop crying at the touch of the creature I cannot see and feel its guttural growl rumbling in my chest. It soothes me in the way thunder soothes a desert. I lean against the thick fur and knot my fingers into it. My breathing slows as drops of blood and tears tumble down my cheeks. The open wounds on my eyelids sting, but the creature licks away the tears. A Hound.

  The servants of the Gods are called Blind Ones. We communicate with our divine Masters, through dreams. I see Mrithyn when I close my eyes. He comes to me in dreams, whispering quietly as a lover in my ear. He turns dreams round in my mind and weaves stories through my thoughts. He laughs and smiles as he watches me sleep. He knots ideas into my fists and tangles starlit fantasies in my hair. His voice mingles with my breath as my chest rises and falls. The chill of His touch wipes beads of sweat from my brow. He loves me. He chose me; He uses me. He worships me, and what His power has done to me. He tells me I am beautiful. White Reaper. When I wake, nightmares plague my reality. Interludes of the peace He gives me wash across my memory and I am comforted by Him.

  But this was not a dream.

  I wake up for real this time, in my own head and in my own skin. Bleeding from scratches I made on my face.

  “Give me the cloth.” I hear a voice say. “She’s waking up!”

  My eyes flutter open, but it hurts and my face stings. I groan.

  “Close your eyes, Keres.” Liriene’s voice sounds close. Am I back home? Last thing I remember…

  “So, it was a sleeping spell. See how she’s waking up. As if from a deep slumber,” My father’s vo
ice carries.

  “Do mere nightmares make one hurt oneself?” Indiro’s voice is unmistakable. I stay still and listen for who’s here.

  “No.” I know that voice too. It stings me more than the scratches to my eyes. “No mere dream has the power to captivate a mind for as long as it held her captive within her subconscious.” Ivaia’s voice cuts through the room like a silver blade. A cool damp cloth pats against my face. Hearing Ivaia’s voice jolts me to realization. Last thing I remember, I was with Darius, going to see Ivaia. Where am I? What happened? Dare I ask, where is Darius? How long have I been a “captive” as she said? Who held me prisoner in the dream realm. That human stranger or the Elven child?

  “Salt would stop the bleeding.” Silas?

  “It would also hurt like hell, lad,” Indiro says.

  “No, he’s right. Fetch me the salt. She all but gouged her own eyes out. Let’s stop the bleeding.”

  “Why are the scratches still bleeding? She scratched her eyes yesterday.” Yesterday? I struggle to open my eyes, groaning as I move my limbs. They feel as if they’ve not been used for months. My stomach growls angrily with hunger.

  “Oh, Gods above. She isn’t bleeding from the scratches! She’s crying blood!”

  “Let me see.”

  “No!” I sit up, swatting someone’s hands away. I pinch my eyes shut as I touch my face where it hurts. “The looking glass,” I demand. My cheeks burn with shame. I am crying. I can’t help it.

  Two strong arms lift me to my feet and lead me toward the looking glass.

  “Open,” Indiro’s voice touches my ears. I struggle to open my eyes and slam them shut once more at the sight of my face. Wild green eyes, shrouded by angry red claw marks and swollen, blood tears line my face.

  “Iv,” I turn, unable to see her. I lean back on the wash basin, “Can you heal this?”

  “No.” She’s curt. Still angry with me, I see. “There is no blood beneath your fingernails Keres, no signs you’re the one who scratched your face.” She adds.