Page 14

SLEEPLESS IN SURRELIA

M are wyrms. That was what those soul-sucking demon leeches were. We were nearly back to the training field, Gavrel leading the way. I assumed he was particularly displeased with our lack of critical thinking skills—if his scowl was any indication.

“They hail from the Nether Void. Over the last century, Void creatures have been trespassing into Surrelia. The Order’s efforts to resolve the situation have been futile.” Gavrel swung his head from side to side before glaring at the ground momentarily. Then he adjusted his scabbard, his sword snuggly sheathed at his back as he strode into the open field ahead of us.

“Are you all right?” I asked Kaden.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Kaden …” I put my hand on his forearm, encouraging us to pause. His muscles tensed beneath my touch.

“I’ll be fine. Was it a shit experience seeing my mother? Yep. Would I recommend having your soul or whatever sucked from you? Nope. Now we know.” He shrugged, effectively nudging my hand from his arm.

“I understand. You know I do. Seeing my mother was devastating,” I murmured.

His eyes softened. “I know. Sorry. I’m grateful you snapped out of it—unlike me. I’m a jackass,” he groused, plunging his hands through his messy strands. Kaden’s bronzed complexion had returned, chasing away the chalky paleness the mare wyrm’s attack had triggered. I studied him from the corner of my vision, looking for any lingering signs of affliction.

His nose, once straight like his brother’s, was crooked after it had been broken. A rueful smile tipped one corner of my mouth. When we were sixteen, he had gotten into a scrap with another boy from our village. The boy had cruelly mocked me for not having a mother. Kaden tackled him, delivering several blows before the boy landed one good punch to Kaden’s nose and ran away. The boy never ridiculed me again.

“I’m fine, Ser.” He huffed, his face pinching. He took my hand, squeezed it once, and then rushed ahead to speak with Gavrel.

While I didn’t condone violence, I recognized its value at times. Over the turns, especially since Hestia’s culling, Kaden had battled his persistent temper. It was rare for anyone to sense the inferno bubbling beneath his amiable disposition. Kaden was quick to laugh, his humor provoking amusement within others.

He wasn’t a violent man by any means, but was he impulsive? Absolutely. After having some rocky adolescent turns, he honed his self-discipline, diverting his simmering fury into physical labor, swordplay, and now—I realized—embercraft.

I glanced at the enigmatic forest behind me and squared my shoulders. Catching up to them, I positioned myself next to Gavrel, giving Kaden space. “Gav, you said Morpheus’ sister, Phantasos, created the veil centuries ago. Was it for defense or to keep us mortals from straying?”

The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Both. The veil keeps Void creatures out. It’s a boon it has held up.”

“It doesn’t restrict Phobetor, I would suspect,” I added, my brow creasing.

“Correct, only his realm’s beasts. As for keeping us in. Yes, its secondary aim is to deter vulnerable souls from leaving the grounds before they’re ready.” His smile dropped. “Which you’ve both learned the hard way today,” he grumbled, glowering at us.

“Ah, Gavrel, don’t be so surly. I have no doubt you can join us in the fun next time,” Kaden chided, his shield of humor back in place. Gavrel squinted at Kaden, his tongue pushing at the inside of his lips.

“I’d suggest learning more about Surrelia and the Nether Void before wandering off like unsuspecting children. Of course, there is more to this world, but it would help to be armored with details to avoid getting yourselves killed.” Gavrel’s chest muscles were so tense I thought he might be carved out of stone.

My mouth dropped at the insulting rebuke, but I snapped it shut when Kaden snickered, “Killed? Our astral bodies can’t be killed, Gavie. Was that what Melina called you back there? Little Gavie Gav?”

A flush of heat tinged Gavrel’s bronzed cheeks, reminding me of a crimson sunset shining over toasted wheat. He stood taller, stacking his already straight spine into a rigid column. “There are worse things than death for both physical and astral bodies. But, by all means, continue using your poor decision-making skills to test that, brother.”

Kaden stepped forward, his aura flaring around him, but then clenched his fists and paused. Cracking his neck, he glared at his brother and then stomped off toward a group practicing with weaponry.

Gavrel sighed, looking at the ground and shaking his head.

I turned to face him. “I’m not a child. You would do well to remember that. Were we rash? Yes.” I shrugged, taking a breath. “You are right, though. I’ll study more. But you should be more forthcoming with information as well.”

He nodded once. “I appreciate that. I’ll try. There are some things I … I can’t share with you—yet. Despite what you may think, I don’t know everything,” he admitted with a sheepish smile, his eyes shifting to the left.

I gasped teasingly, “Say it isn’t so.”

His smile lingered for a moment, then melted. “I know you aren’t a child.” His eyes swept over my body, his direct gaze landing on mine. “But I worry about you both. What if I hadn’t made it to you in time?” Unease swam freely in the viridian pools of his eyes.

I stepped into him, gathering his solid body to mine and wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. “Thank you. I appreciate not being unalived.” His back stooped as he wrapped his arms around me, a soft chuckle vibrating through him.

“How did you find us, by the way?” My question was muffled as I pressed my cheek into his stiff overcoat.

“I …” He retreated slightly away from our embrace, rubbing a hand along his nape. “I’m not sure. I was with Melina, and my rune lit up. Beyond the veil, ember is untamed. Wild.” He ran his hand over his stubbled jaw, his metallic ink reflecting in the setting sun. “My tattoo grew brighter—burned—the closer I got to you, so I went where it and my instincts led me.” He gripped the strap of his leather baldric, his fingers tense.

“Huh, well, that’s interesting.”

“That was Melina’s sentiment as well. She insisted on coming.” He looked back toward the palace and then at me with urgency. “Be careful around her, Little Star.”

“Already on it; you don’t have to worry. I mean, anyone who can go poof into thin air is terrifying,” I joked, making an explosive motion with my fingers, air puffing out my cheeks.

Gavrel smirked as we turned to head to the palace. “As far as I know, she can only transport herself short distances. She likely sent herself to the other side of the veil. She loves all the theatrics of it.”

I chuckled, “Could’ve fooled me.”

Gavrel took a deep breath. “In all seriousness?—”

“Ah yes, one of your best qualities,” I interrupted him, smirking. Noticing the worry still lingering in his gaze, I put my arm through the crook of his elbow. “I’ll be careful around the Elders, Gav. Unfortunately, I have Melina’s attention now. I’ll tread lightly. Promise.”

“All right, thank you.” He tucked my arm closer into his side.

I drew in a breath. “It would seem you have her attention as well.”

A sound suspiciously like a growl shuddered through his chest. “I’d rather not, Seryn.”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

He exhaled for three heartbeats. “I don’t mind you prying, but her attention is something I don’t want …” he muttered, glaring at the palace. “And I can’t seem to escape. Let’s leave it at that.”

I leaned into his side for a moment as we continued in silence.

“Oh, I’ve also been thinking …” I hesitated and looked at Kaden, who was sparring with a guard. His sword furiously slashed and parried against his opponent’s, a clover-colored glow pulsing around him.

“Yes?”

“Would you spar with me?” I asked, a blush spreading over my cheeks. “I’d rather not take up your or Kaden’s time during the day when everyone is milling about.”

His eyes softened. “Of course. I think it’s a brilliant idea. It never hurts to learn how to defend yourself.” He crinkled his brow briefly. “Let’s start later this week. I can meet you on the training field shortly after sunrise. Agreeable?”

“Absolutely.”

During dinner, I shared what had happened in the Reverie Weald with Letti, Breena, and Rhaegar. Kaden had eaten his meal in grim silence. Gavrel never came to dinner. I wondered if he had gone to see Melina.

Later, after hours of failing to sleep, I went to Kaden’s room to check on him. I figured he’d had enough time to stew.

“Kaden, it’s me,” I said, knocking on his door.

The door creaked open as he stepped aside and let me enter. His room was decorated similarly to mine, but the bed was drenched in shades of emerald and bronze instead of pewter. His bare chest was on full display, his white breeches hanging low on his hips. I swallowed, dragging my gaze to his.

“I wanted to check your bite wound,” I blurted when he didn’t speak.

A tired smile spread across his face. “Thank you.” He waved his hand, a current the color of soft grass shimmering toward his chest. Only a rosy patch of sealed skin rested. “Healing ember, remember?”

“Oh, of course. It looks like your skill is improving.” Without thinking, I skimmed my fingers over the mended mark on his strong pectorals, and we both inhaled at the contact. I pulled my hand to my collarbone as if I’d been burned. I rambled, “I, um. Are you all right? I know today was unnerving.”

He rubbed the spot my hand had been near his heart. “I’ll get through it. I’m out of sorts.” He paused, shrugging and dropping his hand to his side. “How are you holding up?”

“I can’t stop thinking about my mother, but what’s new?” A weary sigh fell from me. The air buzzed with the sound of our gentle breaths.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest.” I turned to leave.

He gently grasped my wrist. “Sleep here tonight?”

My breath hitching, I studied him with an arched brow, biting my bottom lip.

“Just sleep … I promise,” he drawled.

I hesitated as warmth spread over my skin. “All right.”

“But stop biting your lip, or you’ll make me a liar.” He smirked, wiggling his brows.

A breathy, high-pitched laugh left me as I followed him. We settled under the soft bedding. No further words were needed. His arm was a comforting weight around me, soothing my pounding heart. I let myself mold into the cradle of his body, his heat and solid mass blanketing me. I drifted to sleep in moments, all thoughts of the day whisked away into the haze of a dreamless sleep.

The next day was a tedious blur of shelving books in the library. When I finally made my way to my room that night, I had hoped to rest soundly, but my mind had other plans. My bed was a heap of crumpled blankets wrapping around me. Restless thoughts bounced around my skull, twisting and turning with the rest of my body. Mama. Kaden. Mare wyrms. Shades. Ember. Kaden.

Kaden’s lips.

Eyes.

The hollow that dipped beneath his throat.

Sitting up, I huffed and pushed wild strands of hair from my cheeks. Soft rays from the harvest moon of the autumnal equinox scattered about the room, casting halos around the solid objects strewn about.

I slid off my bed, pushing my feet into the slippers next to it. A sardonic chuckle stuck in my throat. Who needs a harvest moon when we’re not harvesting anything?

I sighed. It was time for a late-night stroll to calm—and hopefully tire—my mind.

I meandered the halls aimlessly, running my fingers over the moonstone walls, studying the artwork, sculptures, and potted plants lining them.

My legs carried me to the library. I’d never seen it so empty and quiet, as if it had been holding its breath. The stillness blanketed the book stacks in reverence.

I went to Mr. Burlam’s desk to borrow the lantern orb he kept on it. As I reached for the hovering glass sphere, its enchanted flames swept over it from the bottom, ready to be of service.

I stuck a finger out, hesitant to touch the embered flames as I’d seen the grumpy librarian do. Sucking in a breath, I grimaced and pushed my finger into the blaze. Relieved, I gasped as a pleasant, liquid warmth licked at my skin. Its energy briefly zipped over the back of my hand before returning to the lantern with a fizzle. I stretched my fingers wide, admiring the tiny, shimmering mark left in the shape of a flame. As I stepped away from the desk, the orb floated above me, lighting my way.

I moved through the library, going up the curling staircase to the third-floor balcony. I gathered books hinting at information about Surrelia and the Nether Void. About its creatures and history. The landscapes and regions.

I read for what seemed like hours, and it very well might have been for all I knew. I was tucked into a corner of the second-story balcony beside the staircase, cocooned in flickering radiance, immersed in my studies. The night sky still painted the crystal ceiling in twinkling blackness, the harvest moon’s glow spraying sparkles of soft amber throughout the space.

Seryn.

I jerked forward, startled by the raspy whisper slinking through the air. My heart galloped as I set aside the book in my lap. Was I still sleeping?

Find me , the voice demanded.

Not a dream. I sprang up on shaky limbs, the lantern orb bobbing excitedly with my quick movements. I rushed to the banister, my eyes adjusting to the dimness and scanning the room for intruders. My heart jumped into my throat as a loud thud directly below me reverberated through the room. Stumbling back, I pressed into the shelves as if the books would protect me. I covered my mouth, holding in the sob that yearned to flee from me.

The flicker from the lantern’s stamp caught my eye, and I clamped my lips together, holding my marked hand in front of me. I brushed at the twinkling spot with my other thumb frantically, and the mark crumbled into ash, fluttering away from my skin. Immediately extinguishing, the orb gently descended. I caught the glass and hugged it to my chest, using one hand to guide me to the shadowed stairs.

Another thump. Clammy sweat broke out across my forehead and neck. Sucking my trembling lips inward, I crept down the stairs as fast as possible, my knees locking when my slippers settled on the ground floor.

Seryn.

A smallish novel from a lower shelf dropped at my feet. My ember tingled along my nape in response. Looking ahead, I noticed two large volumes resting on the ground.

Below.

The disembodied voice sounded more insistent but not threatening. Another book tumbled to the floor as if the fallen chronicles were creating a path to follow. Waiting for any sign of movement, I scrutinized the surrounding space. I breathed in, calming my senses and also keeping my gift engaged, just in case.

I pushed my shoulders back, dipping my chin and squinting toward the book-lined trail. My palms stroked over the smooth sphere cradled between them, activating it and its stamp once more. It levitated above me; a witness to the decision I was about to make.

With tentative steps, I followed the grounded volumes. Every so often, another book would drop ahead of me, guiding the way. I paused as a final novel landed in front of a small, arched alcove.

These nooks were carved sporadically within the library’s perimeter, each boasting an intricate engraving. I ran my fingertips over the elaborate depiction of Morpheus’ palace etched into the obsidian.

My ember tingled from my nape to my tailbone, and I shifted so one knee rested on the tufted bench as I traced the smooth lines and valleys of the image. My aura sparked and rippled over my body. It glided through my arm and fingertips, flowing over the etching. As it began to melt into it, the engraving faded away, revealing a tunnel cut into the glossy stone.

My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened. I swallowed, looking behind me into the library and then back to the exposed passageway. A sense of foreboding prickled me, the hairs on my arm standing on end.

I shrugged, my curiosity holding greater weight than my apprehension. I stepped over the bench and into the passage, the glowing orb trailing behind me. My aura faded as I righted myself, thanking the Ancients that the ceiling was a bit taller than me so I didn’t have to crouch.

The air inside the passageway was cool and stagnant. A warm breeze from the library hissed by me as the dark stone knit itself back together, trapping me within the tunnel.

I gasped, panic clawing through me. My hand swiped along the wall. The stone pulsed and rippled in time with my energy, still prickling under my scar. The wall vanished, exposing the entryway again, and closed once more when I removed my palm. In relief, a whoosh of air left me as I realized I could open the hidden entrance.

Turning back to the tunnel, I pushed myself into the abyss. Every step brought me deeper into the stony islet, along a series of gradients and carved stairs. I pondered how far this system of corridors burrowed under the palace and where they led. The lantern illuminated around me, but the gleaming black rock gobbled it up a few feet ahead.

I came to a fork in the tunnel, one stairwell heading up and one moving deeper still. I paused for a moment, wrinkling my nose. A draft of crisp air brushed over my right side from the downward path. I recalled the ethereal plea that led me to my current position. Below, it had directed. I chose the corridor on my right, my ember tingling in agreement.

As I descended, the air grew dense, its chilled pressure pushing into my form, urging me to turn back. My steps slowed as if I moved through water.

It was eerie, the reality of being entirely alone. Thoughts of being buried alive prodded my concentration. My courage wavered, but I pressed forward, my power coursing through sinew, holding me together.

At last, the stairs ended, a sculpted arch marking the entrance to a cavernous clearing. As I tentatively stepped onto the narrow landing, my breath hitched and a numbing sensation ran through my legs. A bottomless well burrowed down the center of the cave. I braced my hands against the walls of the archway to avoid plunging into the gaping pit.

Heights were not something I enjoyed. I gulped, my breath sticking within my throat, an unpleasant flutter somersaulting in my gut. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and then blew out slowly through pursed lips. I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings. The soles of my feet planted firmly into the stone.

Embered sphere torches hovered along the spiral-like ramp, descending along the pit’s walls. Conchoidal fractures glistened whenever the firelight met their gleaming surfaces. I swiped at the lantern mark on my hand and allowed the snuffed lamp to float to the ground.

As I moved down the spiral slope, I kept close to the wall. Every so often, another archway would present itself. Nestled within were stairwells, tunnels, or barred cells of various sizes. This seemed like a dungeon. I paused to examine an empty chamber, wondering if the voice that led me here was imprisoned. What if it’s a trap? A line of determination settled across my lips. There was only one way to find out.

I tightened my fists, ready to march forward, when distant voices rang through the air. I sucked in a breath, peeking over the edge of the chasm. Three people were swiftly rising through the center of the shadowy cavity. What the Ancients? I thought as I rushed to the next archway, tucking myself into the shadows.

“He does not appear to know,” a deep baritone rumbled up the carved walls.

“That means nothing, Lucan,” a melodic but caustic voice responded.

Melina and Evergryn’s Elder, Lucan Craven . My scar itched, my gift scratching at the surface. I grimaced. Not now! Calm down! I swiped my palm over the scar, willing it to settle.

“Certainly. I’ll have to resolve the problem if the imbecile figures out how to use his gifts properly. We can’t risk ascension after all our efforts,” Lucan snarled. They were closer now. Pyrian Elder, Ryboas Ash, was with them, his pallid lips sealed tightly. The thick disk of amber glass on which they stood rose, its edges writhing with swirling inky power.

“There will be no ascension. I’ve seen to that, as you know,” Melina purred.

Lucan dug his cane into the glass with a grumble. “The girl is notable as well, eh? Another new pet, Melina? How tedious.” A scathing smirk pushed his cheeks wide, his wrinkles digging into his skin.

Melina tittered, “Now, now, Lucan. Just because you don’t have anyone to play with, there’s no need to be sour.”

He sniffed, his mouth stiff as he mumbled, “At least I didn’t slaughter my own fated.”

Her eyes flashed, and she snarled, “That’s because you’ve never had one. I believe I’ve been clear that the topic of my khorda is off limits.” Both male Elders shifted, putting more space between them and Melina. She brushed her hands over her hips. “Anyway, back to my new pet. Her ember is wild, like her mother’s. I can’t deny it intrigues me, and the reaction she pulls from my darling commander … it’s too much to disregard.”

A small gasp escaped my lips, clamping my palm over my mouth. The Elders’ attention snapped in my direction. I froze, my feet stuck in the shadows. I didn’t think they had seen me, but my presence was no longer a secret.

“Ah, what have we here?” Melina’s words slithered toward me as the translucent platform drifted near the ramp’s edge.

RUN! The otherworldly voice tore through my mind, my aura bursting over me as I whimpered. It was enough to snap me into action. I turned into the tunnel, sprinting as fast as my legs would carry me, paying no attention to the directional choices I made … as long as I went up.

Up.

Turn right.

The pressure dissipated.

Up.

Corner left.

The air warmed.

My aura lit the way, vibrating through the murky shadows as I ran. I didn’t sense anyone following me, but the notion that I’d never find my way out clawed at my chest, turning my breathing erratic. As soon as the thought passed, I took another right up a steep incline, and a hazy, oblong halo glimmered ahead of me. My sob of relief rent the air.

As I approached, my forehead scrunched in concentration. I coaxed my ember through my arms, placing my palms in the center of the glowing outline, my hand meeting cold rock. My energy seeped into the stone and a sparking fissure swept up the middle, creating a person-sized crevice. I bolted through as the opening sealed immediately upon my exit.

I bent forward, one hand propped on my upper thigh, the other on my chest, willing my breath and heart to stop galloping. Blooming pink incandescence danced over the stage, stretching for my toes. My eyes flew up, realizing I was in the Great Hall. The sun’s rising hues lined its moon-phase windows. I had exited from the back of the obsidian throne, not an inch of intricate design out of place.

It was still early; breakfast was not yet being set up. Not wanting to loiter any longer, I hurried to my room, closing the door as Gavrel opened his. If he noticed, I didn’t hear him call out to me.

I slumped against the door for several moments before a brisk rapping rattled the cool metal. Gavrel? My heart pumped briskly against my ribs as I opened the door.

Bleary emptiness met me, the hallway uncannily silent. I leaned out, checking both ways. Nothing. My face scrunched, air huffing from my nose as I clicked my door back in place.

I stared into my room, not truly seeing anything despite the soft morning light spilling in. Confusion and exhaustion cloaked me as my scar tapped at the skin of my nape incessantly. Massaging my pounding temples, I stumbled to the bed.

With a groan, I leaped onto my mattress and turned onto my side, curling my limbs inwards. I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking my twisted, crumpled bedsheets now seemed more in order than the chaos stalking my every waking moment.