Page 24 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The five of us stood before the wall of nothingness, its mass of darkness stretching endlessly in every direction. Even the perpetual twilight seemed to bend away from it, as if the very light feared being consumed. Five Spectres I didn't recognize stood behind us, their void burns dark against their skin, while Aether addressed us from the front.

"The nobles and Council members will arrive by the time you emerge," he said, his voice carrying across the emptiness that separated us from the darkness. "They come to witness either your triumph or your failure."

"But it's nearly a day's ride from Ravenfell," Kenna said, her composure cracking slightly. "How long will we be in there?"

"As long as it takes." The finality in Aether's tone left no room for further questions.

The Void's pull had grown stronger since we'd landed, like something alive reaching for me. That whisper that had started during our flight was now a constant thrum under my skin, making it hard to stand still .

"You're free to enter now," Aether said. "I hope to see you on the other side."

No one moved. The words hung in the air between us and that wall of darkness. Kenna's hands trembled as she took a half-step forward, then stopped. Theron seemed frozen in place, his eyes darting between the Void and the Spectres as if searching for some hidden clue. Even Valkan's confidence appeared to waver, if only for a moment.

But the pull was too strong now. It sang in my blood, a symphony of shadows that promised answers.

I didn't look back at Aether. Didn't check to see if the others were watching. I simply walked forward, each step more certain than the last, until the darkness reached out with eager fingers and pulled me in.

It consumed me instantly. Tendrils of shadow slid across my arms, my legs, my torso—their touch both burning and freezing at once. My vision went black, and then my sense of gravity disappeared entirely. Up became down, or maybe there was no up or down anymore. Just endless, suffocating nothing.

The shadows weren't content to just surround me. They seeped through my skin, clawing their way beneath the surface, burying themselves in every muscle, every tendon, every bone until I couldn't tell where I ended and the darkness began. It flooded my lungs, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't breathe.

My web latched onto my spine in desperation, braiding itself upward as I writhed against the invasion. But even that familiar power felt wrong here—weak and foreign in this place of absolute nothingness. I felt it begin to fray, to dissolve, as consciousness slipped further away. The shadows pulled me deeper, deeper, until there was nothing left of me at all.

And then?—

I sucked in a giant, clean breath.

My vision snapped back into focus. Music pulsed through my body, and above me, an enormous flower orbited slowly, its petals casting shifting patterns of light across the crowd. The Enclave. I was at the Enclave. In Luminaria.

The familiar hum of liquid euphoria coursed through my veins. Through the shifting lights, I saw them—Osta, Raine, and Briar, dancing and laughing as they twirled through the crowd. A smile tugged at my lips. They looked so alive, so real. I felt myself let go, melting into the dancing figures around me. The melodies thrummed through me as minds began to glow around us, pulsing in rhythm with the beat.

Then something shifted.

One by one, faces turned toward me. The smiles remained, but their eyes... their eyes went white, empty. Hollow. Each person I looked at contorted in agony, their features twisting into masks of pain as blood began to pour from their nose, then their eyes, then their ears, soaking their collars with crimson streaks.

I screamed, but the sound was lost in the music. Bodies dropped by the hundreds. Osta. Raine. Briar. All of them, because of me. Because I looked at them.

I slammed my eyes shut, pressed my palms against them until colors burst behind my lids. It's not real. It's not real. It's not ? —

When I opened them again, I was somewhere else entirely. Sunlight streamed through arched windows, illuminating a lobby I'd never seen before. But I knew these people—Eron and Jacquelina, the people I had grown up with in the group home—The House of Unity. The first Riftborne couple to bear a child in Luminaria. They sat rigid in their chairs. Between them sat a small girl with curious eyes. Leila, their daughter.

A woman approached, hand extended toward Leila. She went willingly, her innocent smile never faltering. Jacquelina collapsed into Eron as tears streaked down her face.

No. I knew what came next. I didn't want to see this, didn't want to? —

But the scene shifted anyway. Leila sat in the center of a room, a man standing before her. The branding iron emerged from strange-colored flames, and her smile finally broke.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Please, stop!"

The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly I was looking through Leila's eyes. Those small fingers—my fingers—reached out as the brand descended. The pain tore through me as the hot metal met my skin, my flesh melting against the burn. I screamed. Writhed. The pain was unimaginable until consciousness drifted out of reach.

The apothecary materialized around me, familiar wooden shelves laden with dried herbs and tinctures. I was at my desk, the one where I'd spent countless hours grinding herbs and copying Ma's recipes. The air felt thick, heavy with an unfamiliar stench.

"Those unruly herbs giving you trouble again?" Ma's voice carried from behind me, warm and familiar. I turned to find her organizing bottles, hibiscus stains marking her hands like always. Her silver-threaded chestnut hair was coming loose from its bun, just as I remembered.

"Something smells awful today," I said, falling into our usual banter despite the wrongness creeping at the edges of my mind.

"Worse than the time you let those mushrooms rot?" She shot me that knowing look, the one that always made me feel like a child again.

Movement flickered in my peripheral vision. My eyes shot to the back shelves, and my heart stopped.

They stood there—Bekha and Jordaan—their eyes hollow and white, skin gray and peeling. The stench of decay rolled off them in waves. No. No, they're not dead. I didn't kill them. I didn't ? —

Ma's eyes were wide with horror as her gaze fell upon their bodies, hands flying up over her mouth as they pointed at me.

"Did you do this, Fia?" Ma's voice cracked as she stumbled backward. The fear in her eyes cut deeper than any blade. "What are you?"

"They're not dead," I whispered, the words tumbling out faster and faster. "They're not dead. No. No. No?—"

I stepped toward her, reaching out, but she recoiled.

"Stay away from me!" the scream tore from her throat, ripping through my chest.

Something shattered inside me. Tears welled up, blurring the horror before me. When they finally spilled over, the scene dissolved, reforming into?—

Silk sheets beneath me. A familiar weight above me. Burnt amber and vetiver filled my lungs as Laryk's breath ghosted across my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair. My heart swelled at his closeness.

"Perfect," he murmured against my throat. His emerald eyes locked with mine, softening in that rare way they did only for me, before darkening as he moved. A moan escaped my lips and his grip tightened.

"You're different," he breathed. "Unique. The most incredible thing I've ever laid eyes on." Each word sent warmth blooming through my chest, erasing the hollow ache that had lived there for so long. This was everything I'd wanted, everything I'd missed.

My fingers traced the planes of his back as pleasure built between us. His mouth found mine, and I lost myself in the kiss, in the perfect rightness of this moment.

And then he was at my throat, teeth gliding across my skin before he kissed, pulling more of me into him. But the next time he spoke, his voice was different. "My favorite weapon,” he groaned against my collarbone.

"What?" The word caught in my throat.

His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head to the side. "Look how stunning you are," he commanded, forcing my gaze toward the mirror on the wall .

Narissa's face glared back at me, her red hair spilling across the silk sheets like fresh blood.

Bile rose in my throat as her eyes met mine in the mirror, her lips curving into a knowing smile. I lurched to the side of the bed, my body convulsing as I retched. The silk sheets twisted around me as the world tilted?—

And suddenly I was on my back, dead grass crackling beneath me. The bed was gone. Laryk was gone. Only darkness stretched above me, absolute and endless. Reality slammed back into focus with brutal clarity—the Void. I was in the Void.

My chest heaved as I gasped for air, the shadows pressing in around me like a physical weight. The grass beneath my fingers felt wrong, each blade sharp enough to draw blood. Had I imagined everything? Osta's blood-filled eyes, Ma's terror, Laryk's?—

No. Don't think about it . Don't?—

But the darkness was already reaching for me again, its tendrils wrapping around my thoughts, pulling me under. I tried to fight it, tried to hold onto this moment of lucidity, but the shadows were stronger. They dragged me down, down, until consciousness fractured once more.