Page 77 of As Above, So Below

I nod.

“It’s a ring of glamouring,” Gladir continues. “Not particularly rare, but it is in immaculate condition. What makes it unique, though, is that it’s also been spelled to hide its ability.”

“No other hidden features? No curses, no detriments?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “At least not any I can sense.”

A ring of glamouring could be useful. “I’d like to keep it, if possible.”

Gladir chuckles. “Absolutely. It’s a beautiful piece.” He offers his palm, and I carefully collect the ring. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”

Placing the ring into the obsidian box, the petals begin to close, sealing itself. “No, thank you.” I give Gladir a small smile.

“My pleasure,” he returns with a smile of his own.

I pause, a thought springing into my mind. “Actually, I’m looking for a certain material. It’s rare. It may not even be possible to obtain.”

“We have a network of curators we can filter through for private sales,” he replies, tilting his head. “What is it you’re interested in?”

“Bloodstone.” I return the box to my boot, subjecting myself to the unnerving sensation once again.

Gladir steps back. “Bloodstone? Something like that would not come cheaply, if at all.”

“I understand.”

As one of the only materials capable of killing a god or ethereal creatures, Netharis ensured mortals could not wield it. He robbed the living realm of the only means to defend themselves against gods. It all sits in heavily guarded storerooms in the hells.

He plucks a pen out of a glass jar on his left. “What’s your name?”

“Vestaris Moonshadow,” I answer, ignoring the strangeness of giving him my fae family name.

He writes my name on the next available line. “I can send word once I have information or you can stop back in after a week. I should know more by then. Where are you—”

“I can stop back,” I quickly interject.

Giving him my name is questionable enough, and I’m not inclined to give him where I’m staying. More than that, I don’t know if letters at the temple are intercepted before reaching their intended recipients. If Artemise reads I’m searching for bloodstone, questions are sure to follow.

Bidding goodbye, I open the door to find the downpour has returned.

Closing the door behind me, I press myself against it, seeking the shelter the small overhanging roof provides. The streets have emptied, only a few remain, sprinting toward doors and ducking under awnings to wait out the storm.

The falling rain and swollen river roar in my ears, and the windpulls at my cloak and hair. I should ferry to the temple, but I’ve never walked in rain like this. Hesitantly, I extend a hand, letting the rain crash against my skin.

It’s strangely warm.

I expected ice cold. I’m not sure why, but I had.

Leaving my hand extended, rain soaks my skin, pooling in my cupped palm and I look upward at the darkened sky. I’m already damp, and it will be easy enough to ferry to the temple…

Stepping out from under the safety of the portico, I push back my hood enough to expose my face, letting the rain wash over me. The large raindrops fall against me, soaking through my cloak, my clothes, my hair in a matter of seconds.

I’ve often walked through rain, but always on the other side of the veil—here, but not. Here, but a whole realm away at the same time. I’ve neverfeltthe rain on my body, on my skin.

My feet carry me into the empty street, my face lifted toward the heavens, arms extended. Before long, my hood falls back, made heavy by the rain and sliding over my slicked hair. My smile becomes laughter as I twirl, unashamed. Leaping into a puddle, I shriek with laughter as the water rips upward in an arcing splash, soaking my boots and legs further.

“Vestaris?” a surprised golden voice laughs.

I freeze, my lungs holding my breath, and my laughter dies in my chest. Slowly, I turn, and find Lilith smiling at me. She stands under a large black umbrella, her free hand holding her forest green cloak tight around her shoulders. Rain pours down my face, forcing me to wipe my matted hair out of my eyes.