Page 27

SURREALITY

SERYN

T he breath within my lungs whooshed out. One hand covered my mouth, and the other gripped my middle as if I could stop my body from splintering.

“Told her, eh?” Marek strode behind Yaya— grandmother?! —and leaned against a doombark. “How you holding up, cousin?”

I shot out of my chair, tipping it over with a clatter as I stabbed my finger at the infuriating prick.

He held up his hands in surrender, and Yaya stood next to him, widening her stance.

“Even he knew? Are you bloody kidding me?” A wall of cold shock and betrayal blocked any sense of diffidence and empathy for the woman.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not a legacy .

I’m not a Nightshade . Where’s my mother?

How do you know she’s alive? How do I get to her?

Who are you?” I cried, my body chilling and beginning to tremble.

My ember scratched at my bones, but at least I was now strong enough to keep it within as my mind spiraled. People were staring as I broke apart.

Solid but gentle arms wrapped around me from behind. I melted into the familiar scent of leather and wood. “I’ve got you. Breathe,” Gavrel murmured, rubbing his hand over my arm.

“What’s going on?” Breena demanded, her eyes shooting daggers at Marek as she and Rhaegar joined us.

Marek rolled his eyes. “She’s just learned we’re related.

She’s pissed off about it. Her mother’s alive.

Oh, and she’s a Nightshade. Welcome to the family, we’re not that bad.

” He waved a dismissive hand at me. But his eyes softened as they roamed over my face, not matching his sardonic tone.

I inhaled and exhaled, working through my initial stun.

“What a fecking shite show. Let me stab him in his wee cock, Ryn-Ryn.”

“You know very well there’s nothing wee about it. Besides, you’re not hiding any blades under that scrap of dress.” My cousin’s brow lifted. Breena lunged at him, but Rhaegar grabbed the fabric at her back before she could progress any further.

“Rhaeg, I swear to Morpheus, if you want to keep that hand …”

“Enough!” Yaya snapped.

My breathing slowed, and Gavrel released me, standing silently beside me. His warmth calmed me further.

“I know it’s a lot. It’s too much to bear.

” Yaya touched my shoulder gingerly. My flinch nuzzled into her touch.

“But I know you can, granddaughter , and you will . Your mother’s life and yours depend on it.

Probably your friend’s, too. Come, the Augur has requested an audience with you at Hallowed End tonight.

” She stood tall, turning from the gathering.

Glaring at Breena, Marek set his jaw in a square and followed Yaya.

Breena huffed, shaking out her hands and flexing her fingers at her side.

“I’ve got you, Ryn. And I don’t care if you’re related to that blighter, I’ll bloody stab him right in his wank-stick if the need ever arises.

” The tail end of her threat rose an octave, and I could have sworn Marek’s shoulders shook before settling into a line above his frame .

Distracted, I brushed my hand over hers and caught up to them midway over a bridge, Gavrel at my back, and the others behind him.

Solemnly, all six of us moved toward the very edge of the city.

Gavrel stayed close, his hand often grazing the small of my back as we traversed various pathways, mooring me to reality when all I yearned to do was allow my mind to collapse.

To obscure my racing thoughts so that they blended into the surrounding fog.

He squeezed my side, and his warm breath skimmed my ear, the scent of mireberries filling my inhale. Less than an hour ago, I was just Seryn Vawn, and he was just Gavrel . When his lips had been on mine, my worries had scattered away for a moment. “You’re still you. I’m not leaving your side.”

He always knew what fears haunted me; his words were a beacon clearing away the phantoms. I drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled.

I reached behind and brushed my fingers over his hand before it left my flank.

My mind quieted, and I shuffled through it.

One fact at a time, I tapped my forefinger along the rope railing.

I couldn’t be a Nightshade—a direct descendant of one of the five founding Elders. I scoffed at the thought. Everyone knew that bloodline had died out over a century ago … likely through Melina’s extermination efforts. My jaw jutted forward, anger stirring and ebbing.

Breathe in.

Breath out.

It was impossible. Right?

Incessantly, my scar thumped in annoyed protest.

Nightshade , my ember whispered. Scion.

I gnawed the inside of my cheek, ignoring the words and dread echoing within me. The chances of me or Marek being a Scion had just multiplied.

Another detail floated to the top of my mind. Optimism sizzled under the distress, trying to scorch through it. My mother was … alive . I’d always wished it to be true, but I couldn’t accept one truth and snub the other.

Hope was a dangerous thing. Hope carried you even when you were torn apart at the seams. It made you believe the last strings binding you together wouldn’t snap as you pushed onward. Even if they certainly would.

A single spark of hope could fuel a revolution.

It could topple corruption.

It could revive Midst Fall.

I rubbed my palms over my belly, soothing the fluttering within.

As I stared at Yaya and Marek’s backs and felt Gavrel and my friends at mine, conviction tipped up the corners of my mouth. If there was to be a revolution—if I were to save Kaden, my mother, and our realm—I’d be grateful to have more family to lean on. Both by blood and circumstance.

If we were Nightshades, the Elders had something far greater to dread than the stirrings of hope. For the spark had already kindled long ago. They’d face our ember and the force of our united mutiny as we burned through the tethers of their corruption.

We’d be a nightmare haunting their every waking moment.

Our group reached the end of Helos, marked by a single bridge that stretched into the darkness. The only sounds guiding us through the misty night were crickets and gilly toads, the creaking of planks, and the occasional burble of water.

We stepped off the bridge and onto a decagon-shaped platform, surrounded by ten thick trees. Rope fastened each vertex to three of the nearest trunks. Piles of pale flowers were scattered over the deck—the citizens’ offerings to Selene.

“Come closer, Belladonna .” Crooking one knobbly finger, the withered female standing in the center smirked at the nickname. I was sick of the Augur’s riddles.

I marched before her, the others hanging back a bit. “Let’s get this over with.”

She angled her head, scrutinizing me. “Always in such a hurry. When you rush, you miss the details. ”

“Well, I’m seeing them now. Belladonna .”

Belladonna. Correction, Nightshade.

Silently, her shoulders shook. “How you amuse me. I see you’ve come to terms with your lineage on the walk.”

“I bloody well have done no such thing.”

“But you will.” She sighed, lifting her forearms at each side. “During the Budding Moon, Hallowed End is where you’ll find the next part of your journey.”

My eyes swept over the circle of trees. “This place? What is it?”

“A place for blessings. A place for thresholds to be crossed, as long as you have the key.” She lifted my left hand with her first two fingers. Her touch was steady and cool as her thumb ran over the carved obsidian circling my forefinger, and it tingled against my skin.

“So, it’s a portal, and this ring … this ring is the key to opening it. If this can open portals, why haven’t I needed it for others like the one in Inksalt Loch?”

“Druiks who know the locations of such cosmic vortexes can traverse the mortal realm. They’re a static source of travel within the region. Travel between Oneiric realms, however, is another thing altogether.” She held her palms up, chin lifting.

“Other than the Ancients themselves, only those who possess a celestial key can call upon and unlock the inter-realm passageways. As you know, without the right time and place, the ring’s ember simply acts as a mechanism to transmit your physical body over shorter distances from one place to another.

Yet, if you’re close to a strong ember source or sacred location like this”—she gestured widely—“the key bearer only needs to imagine a destination to travel there.”

“So, which realm would this portal lead to?”

“Where you will find what you seek?—”

“My mother? Kaden?” I interjected; my words agitated.

A slight smile tipped her lips, her brows drawing together as she leaned toward me, lightly poking her finger into the space above my heart.

“In a dismal place you’ve seen before. You weren’t ready to face it then, but you are now.

You must simply imagine it—here—and only during the peak of lunation. ”

My lips pressed into a white slash as my fingers shoved through the curls at the top of my head. I let my arms drop. “Always during blasted full moons. Seems incredibly careless of the Ancients to leave the portals so vulnerable every month.”

The Augur’s gaze unfocused, and her words softened tenderly.

“There’s only so much to be done when nature fuses with the Ancients’ creations.

The gateways between realms are no exception.

All living things, whether a tree, mortal, or beast, are both wild and confined.

Even the Ancients must obey Kosmos; their power limited to the realms and human affairs they preside over.

If they leave the realm or source that gives their ember life, it eventually weakens.

Just like when mortals physically visit other realms outside their own …

they’ll be called to join the realm in which they’ve overstayed their welcome. ”

My energy tingled under my skin. “Why won’t you give me a clear answer? Why speak in cryptic riddles?” I demanded, tired of games. My fingers dug into my belt.

The Augur cupped my chin, her skin warm and humming against mine.

“There’s a design to the fabric that builds each of you.

Yet, those exquisite threads of the Aetherbind that fasten your very essence to your physical self and destiny are elastic.

As all threads are … until they break. I, too, must respect Kosmos and the design of the Fates’ tapestries.

For every knot I’ve shown you, elsewhere, another unravels.

” She stepped closer, dropping her arm, her eyes shining.

My lips parted, and I gaped at her. Beheld her golden eyes as they seized mine.

Her pale brow quirked. A quick sip of air rushed into my windpipe.

“Your eyes. They … I’ve seen them before.

” In a flurry, the images of the youthful seer from Ceto sped through my mind as her beautiful hands flipped over the oracle cards.

“I don’t … I don’t understand. Who—what—are you? ”

The liquid metal of her irises consumed the white as a dazzling, gilded aura spread over her. “Very good. You’ve assembled the details. You’ll do well, Belladonna .”

The others rushed forward, flanking my sides.

Yaya gasped, her hands reaching for the female. The men watched quietly, stances wide. Breena was Breena. “What the ever-loving fecking void?” she mumbled. “Who is this broad?”

A benevolent smile spread across the Augur’s face as she hovered backward over the boards. Her long, pale hair and gauzy robes drifted around her form despite there not being a hint of a breeze.

“You’re ready, child. Lean on your kin.” Her melodious voice glided through the mist as her gaze connected with each of us.

My heart lurched as I struggled to comprehend what was happening.

All at once, the haze spun around her, melding with her glittering, golden aura. The deeply etched wrinkles smoothed, and her face morphed into that of the Haadran seer.

She’d sent the missive guiding us to her in Ceto.

Before that realization could register, her contours transformed into that of a young girl with the same stunning eyes.

My mouth fell agape, my right fingers gripping the obsidian wrapped around my left pointer finger.

The stone warmed and tingled against my fingertips.

It was the girl from the Reverie Wield who’d gifted me the ring during the last Dormancy.

Breathlessly, I stepped forward, but paused as her brilliance flashed and twirled around her. My aura hummed through my muscles and sinew, yearning to connect with hers. Multihued flashes sparked at my sides. Everyone’s powers were flaring.

The female’s visage didn’t stop shifting, features melting into one another as if they couldn’t decide which shape to settle in. She lifted her arms above her head, and her body rose a few more inches above the platform.

She was all of these beings.

Young to timeworn.

She was none of them.

Made of mist and wild energy and messages from the Fates.

She’d helped me along the way, more times than I could count.

She roamed the wilds of the realms.

Spoke in riddles.

She was the definition of surreality .

The drawing from the book in Morpheus’ library wavered in the back of my mind. Ancient History: An Unabridged Bridge into Divine Yesterdays.

The Oneiroi.

The celestial sister with the obscured face.

The aureate aura of an Ancient.

She … was … Was it possible?

My ember burst from me, reaching for hers, not to harm, but to revere. “Phantasos?” Her vibrant energy enveloped my faint, broken words. All at once, a collective gasp rent the air, everyone choking or sucking in shocked breaths.

Her ever-changing mouth curled. “Recollect … the dawn does not fear the night. Protect the balance. Persevere.” Her words were wind chimes tolling through my ears. Words she’d left me with in Surrelia. “We’ll meet again.”

The entirety of her burst into golden sparks and condensed into a beautiful black raven. It spread massive wings, immediately fading into the fog in a frenzy of gilded flecks.

“Wait!” I called out, activating my ring. My body was transported to the space she had occupied, but my fingers slipped through the scattering embers.

The Ancient of Illusions had left us again like the dream she’d always been.