Page 12 of As Above, So Below

Netharis never gives freely.

“What did you agree to, Ylara?” I shift in my seat to see her better.

The excitement from her eyes fades, but her smile remains. “Nothing of substance,” she answers.

A lie.

“Gods, Ylara, why?” I huff, rubbing my brow. “Nothing is worth signing for. Especially not five minutes in Ollora.”

Her smile falters, growing somber. “Vaelyn mentioned you were in a mood and I know what that means.”

I should be touched.

I should be warmed by the fact my youngest sibling has signed yet another contract with the god of death to grant me the opportunity to walk through the veil in a city I adore. Instead, I’m angry. She should know better than to ever agree to anything Netharis offers.

“Did you go to him with this or did he come to you?”

“I went to him.”

That makes it worse.

And poor Ylara, she’s barely three centuries old. She hasn’t learned what I’ve learned, despite my best attempts to teach her.Some lessons can only be learned by making mistakes, regardless of how costly they are. If I don’t go with her, it makes her new contract pointless. She’ll be forced to pay her end of the agreement either way.

“Godsdamn Vaelyn and his mouth,” I mutter to myself.

I’m going to do more than hurl a book at him the next time I see his damned face.

“You’re a fool,” I relent with a slow toss of my head.

“Make it worth the agreement, Ves,” she pleads, her black eyes pinning against mine. “Come with me to Ollora. See the night sky. Walk through the city you love. Get out of the hells, even if it’s only for five minutes.”

It’s tempting.

Especially after today—the dream, reading about Celesta, Ineedthe distraction. For five minutes, I could forget about all of it. I could lose myself in the beauty, the architecture, the night sky.

Gods, I could stare at the night sky for eternity.

Shoving the nagging worry back into the dark depths of my being, I turn my attention to the fire. It continues to pop and crackle behind the screen, the thin metal barrier keeping one stray spark from turning all these books to ash.

“I’ll go,” I finally relent and Ylara’s smile returns, broader than before.

“I’ve never been to Ollora,” she says, her excitement palpable.

Dragging my eyes to hers, I give her a soft smile. “I hope you hate it.”

Her face pinches with confusion.

“Because it hurts to fall in love with a place you’re never going to be a part of,” I finish, my voice quiet.

I don’t often express my innermost thoughts, but the words had fallen out of me before I was able to stop myself. My innate tingles, a gentle reminder that despite how alone I may feel in the hells, it will always be with me.

Or perhaps it’s a warning.

CHAPTER THREE

My first visitto Ollora took place roughly six centuries ago.

Even then, in a matter of minutes, I became smitten.