Page 23

THE DAWN DOES NOT FEAR THE NIGHT

B reath whooshed from my lungs as if I’d been punched, and I stepped forward. “What? How do you know my mother? Who are you? Aren’t you, like, eight turns old?” The questions tumbled from me in quick succession, leaving me even more breathless.

If she had any information about my mother, I needed to know.

I’d take my chances.

What was one more risk in this Ancient-forsaken dreamland?

A kind smile spread across her ethereal face. “Here, come. I’ve got a gift for you.” She reached her delicate hand toward me, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

My boots moved of their own accord, my heart hammering. I ran my thumb over the faceted pommel of my weapon before curling my fingers around the cool metal of its hilt.

As I approached, the girl brought one hand to her other, fiddling with a black stone ring on her thumb. It seemed out of place, something midnight dark marring the pastel, otherworldly look of her.

An arm’s length away, I paused, my lips pressing into a line. Her eyes softened, and she nodded, guiding her petite form upon a sizable, mottled rust-colored stone. There was another boulder next to her, and I sunk upon it slowly, keeping my senses alert for any sudden movement.

She shifted toward me, her eyes shining in the morning sun. “A gift from the Ancients,” she spoke softly, her words chiming.

I gulped, stuttering, “I … I don’t understand.”

Her hand rested on my shoulder, feather-light. A soft, gilded glow shimmered around her, the energy of it tingling against my skin. “It is as it always was. The Fates do as they please; it is not for us to question it.”

My mouth pinched together for a moment, and I dragged in a breath, my ribs swelling with the force of it.

I was weary of the Fates. Fed up with people insisting that I shouldn’t doubt them or question what my people endured each and every day.

If all they had time to do was play games, I didn’t want any part of it.

The muscles in my limbs stiffened, and I lifted my chin. “The Ancients abandoned us long ago.”

The girl shifted even closer to me. My feet stayed rooted to the earth. Maintaining steady eye contact, a small smile pushed into the corners of her mouth. Her features softened even further, her tone placating as she whispered, “They never left you, and to believe such is to surrender.”

Bewildered, the subtle arches of my brows rose, my bottom lip and shoulders wilting. Where were the Ancients if they hadn’t forsaken us? I rolled my eyes to the sky and then huffed. Cynicism kindled within as my eyebrows fell, and I lifted my frame from the boulder, straightening my spine.

She held out the ring, gently taking my hand and placing it in the palm. Its intricate design glinted—delicate, interlacing branches carved into tourmaline.

My skin hummed where it touched, the feel of it substantial. I breathed in, rubbing the sleek, wide edge of it with the tip of my index finger. A slow, deep throb stroked under my scar in wave-like laps. The sides of my mouth dipped as insistent shadows of recognition prodded at the corners of my mind.

“You must not, under any circumstances, give it to another. It is yours and yours alone. Do you understand?” Her face settled into a grave urgency, hinting at mysteries well beyond her turns.

“Yes, but?—”

“The dawn does not fear the night. For it knows both light and shadow are needed—the balance protected.” The white of her eyes disappeared as the liquid metal of her pupils took over, swirling. “It simply waits for its moment before rising. Always persevering, freeing the darkness. Persevere, Belladonna.”

I huffed, my fingers clenching around the tourmaline. “What does that?—”

“Heed your terminus.” She tipped her head to the ring. “For a safe passage.”

“What the?—”

“Seryn!” Kaden’s panicked bellow startled me, and I jolted toward his voice, my hair whipping around my cheeks.

“I’m here!” I called, slipping the ring over my left forefinger. It warmed against my skin as the pulsing in my neck settled. Contented.

I turned to where the girl had been sitting, but only a shimmering eddy of air remained. An exasperated sigh fell to the moss as I shook my hands, relieving the tension coursing through the ligaments. These days, doubt and confusion were my constant companions.

Kaden met me as I moved toward him. His face pinched, and he took a deep breath, probably to scold me, but words spilled from me in a rush before he got the chance. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. The pixies wanted me to follow them … There was a little girl.” I waved my hands in the air as I spoke, thrusting my pointer finger out. “Well, not young. Not really. She gave me this ring; said it was a gift from the Ancients … And a lot of other things that made no sense,” I muttered.

“Uh …” The slashes of his brows met above the bridge of his nose, his mouth tucking between his teeth.

My shoulders lifted, one hand following them, palm up, my lips twisting.

“Well, I suppose we’ll see what this bobble can do at some point.” He smiled, grasping my hand and running a thumb over the ring. “I’m just happy you’re safe. Also, you’re adorable when flustered.” His grip squeezed mine, and my cheeks burned as I puffed them out with an exhale.

“Rhaegar said those pixies are from the forest—not the Nether Void. I’m not sure I believe him,” He chuckled, rubbing one ruddy ear lobe as we returned to camp.

“That’s the end of our head-start,” Breena grumbled, angrily spinning the fabric of a tent in a messy ball around her forearms. The linen kept flopping all over the place, and she groaned before throwing it to the ground.

I picked up the shelter, folding it and rolling it into a compact bundle. “What did you find?”

Breena grunted, and Rhaegar smirked, filling me in. “It was one of our opponents from Sebille’s team. He’s been tracking us. It was a smart move if they suspected we had any idea of where we were going. Would’ve gotten more information out of him, but Breena scared him off.” One eyebrow arched as he glanced at her from his peripheral.

“Not my fault he’s afraid of some light-hearted coercion.”

“So, that’s what we’re calling it nowadays? Threatening to slice his jugular and waving your blade around?” Rhaegar’s bark of amusement echoed through the trees as he shook his head and worked on packing things into his rucksack.

Breena’s nostrils flared, and she whipped around, her stick-straight hair twirling. She began ramming things into her pack, emphasizing each thrust with a huff.

For the rest of the day, we continued our journey, so near the coast that I could hear the waves of the Insomnis Sea hurling against the cliff face. I empathized with the beaten crag—each fruitless hour was a lashing to the wall of hope I’d built around myself. My mind and confidence were battered mush.

The sun crested above the tree canopy, its smoldering peach-colored rays painting the leaves.

I swallowed, my stomach grumbling.

When we reached a long bend along the coastline, I tugged on the hem of Kaden’s tunic and then shifted my bag on my shoulders. He looked over, and I nodded to a nearby tree near the stony precipice, retrieving some bread from my rucksack. He informed the others it was time for a break.

I slumped to the ground, leaning against the bark, its ember warming my skin through my dark clothing. The ocean was relentless, waves tumbling into the horizon. Peaking. Breaking.

I dropped my head into my hands, chewing on the bread. Kaden quietly sat next to me on my right, the sea breeze ruffling his shaggy hair around his ears.

“We’ll find it, Ser.”

“Your confidence knows no bounds,” I said, a wry chuckle trapped within my chest.

Kaden sighed, rubbing his palm on the top of my thigh. I lifted my head, resting it against the tree as I looked at him. “I’m sorry. I feel like a disappointment. I want to win those rations so badly. To find this damned flower.”

“I know. Don’t ever apologize for feeling.” His hand lightly squeezed. “You are not a disappointment. We wouldn’t have come this far without you. If we push forward along this coast, we are bound to find it. Hopefully sooner rather than later.” He smirked then, running his hand through his thick, black waves.

I watched as a particularly stubborn strand flopped back over his brow. His lips had a certain curl at the sides, his dimple peeking out. Seeing this, I knew he was about to be ridiculous. “I also wouldn’t have come in my breeches—in a tent of all places—without you.”

“Kade!” I slapped the back of my hand on his chest, my face flushing. A hoot of laughter pushed from my throat. The tension within my body deflated as I settled, the wind stroking and cooling my cheeks.

He was right, though … about the orchid. We had to keep going.

Out of the corner of my eye, neon pink flickered among the green. My heart skipped a beat as I jolted to my feet, using Kaden’s shoulder for balance.

He thrust his hand into the moss, bracing himself against the force of my movement. “Woah—no need to get in a tizzy. It happens to a lot of men.”

“What?”

“Well, when a man really enjoys a woman?—”

I glanced at him briefly, rolling my eyes and cupping my palm against his warm lips. My feet brought me closer to the edge as I tried to get a better view across its huge, curving bend.

There, in the distance—partially hidden behind a vibrant shrub, its pearly magenta mirberries gleaming—was a tall, pink flower swaying in the breeze. A few steps beyond that was another but with bright-yellow petals. And then another. My gaze followed the line of flowers as if they were lookouts leading the way.

I waved my hand behind me, absently trying to get everyone’s attention. I tapped Kaden’s head, pointing when he looked up. “Uh, the meadow.”

Breena ran over, gawking at the flowers. “Fecking void, woman. I think you’re right.”

Rhaegar stopped next to us, drawing his battle axe. “If that is your meadow, we’d best be prepared for whatever beast guards it.”

Kaden stood, brushing off his trousers, and then sighed, readying his sword.

Leaving our supplies nestled between the trees, we hastened forward, renewed vigor nipping at our heels. We reached our destination within fifteen minutes. A breathy, relieved laugh dropped to my feet as we approached the bloom. I ran my fingertips over its rigid, silky petals, each one as big as my hand.

“Well done, you beautiful, beautiful bird.” Breena laughed, smacking a loud kiss on my cheek as we moved forward.

We followed the flowers until more of them scattered among the trees. Soon, a sprawling meadow lay before us, shades of pink and yellow dancing in the shimmering wind.

“This is it,” I murmured. I gulped, wiping my hands on my tunic and clutching the hilt of my sheathed dagger. My ember vibrated just below the surface in anticipation.

“Where was the Mirage Orchid in your dream?” Kaden asked, shifting closer to me.

“It was near the very edge. To the right, where these flowers meet the stone.” I pointed to the general area in the distance where the slick black stone marked the edge of the meadow like a jagged ink stain.

Scanning the intimidating expanse before us, my pulse quickened, and my breaths became more shallow. I clenched my eyes, thinking of the end goal. Thinking of everyone we could help if we succeeded.

Letti.

I pushed my shoulders back, running my thumb over the cool metal in my hand. My thoughts drifted as I tried to distract myself from spiraling emotions.

Letti and Xeni had found little information about the Mirage Orchid, but what they had sounded impossible. I shook my head, curls dancing around my shoulders.

Not as impossible as everything else I’ve been through.

As me dreaming of this exact place.

My cheeks scrunched, crinkling my closed lids. Mr. Burlam had been right; this orchid was the rarest in existence. Letti and Xeni had learned that a single bud bloomed every half century or so, shedding in the winter months. Aside from its rarity, it was also temperamental—sometimes, it refused to blossom, and one could only harness its power by using fallen petals. Legend said it could reverse an embered curse upon your mind or body.

If it hadn’t flowered in over a century, it was no wonder the Elders wanted it. Mystical attacks were not reversible … unless you were an Ancient. But even so, our history detailed the consequences to anyone—even celestial beings—for intervening in the Fates’ plans.

To nobody’s shock—it was never pleasant.

“Fecking scheming trackhounds,” Breena growled. My eyes snapped open, darting to where the curve of her dagger’s blade pointed.

Far to the right, in the middle of the field, several of our opponents spilled from the trees, Sebille and her team among them. There looked to be about twenty of them, perhaps less. It was hard to tell with the flowery heads swaying up to their shoulders and chins.

Sebille whispered something to her team, and they stayed back as the others lumbered forward, shoving stems out of their way, crunching the flora without abandon.

“Those idiots. They’re making too much noise,” Kaden snarled, sweat gathering on his brow.

Rhaegar stepped forward, his sword rising. “They are, indeed. Whatever is protecting the orchid will surely find?—”

All at once, several people collapsed, slicing a jagged line down the center of the throng. As they disappeared under the towering plants, screams of terror rent the air. Horrified cries and gasps tore from those nearest to the fallen, heads whipping this way and that, as if something was brushing past them, bending and cracking the shoots sharply as it went.

Sebille raised her sword, preparing to charge forward. Her three team members froze, one dropping his weapon and the other two shaking their heads and then fleeing back into the forest. She screeched, “You cowardly mouth-breathers!” at them before rushing into the fray. The third man stiffened, petrified where he stood next to his dropped blade.

“Let’s go. Skirt around the edges while it’s distracted,” Rhaegar commanded. “Slow and steady. Quietly as you can.”

We followed him, gently moving, nudging stalks out of our way, eyes glued to the group on the other side. People were still flailing.

Crumpling.

Shrieking.

Stabbing at whatever was attacking them.

A hazy, twinkling cloud of cinder billowed around the mass of our opponents as their astral bodies were destroyed. Banished to the Stygian Murk.

My pulse thrashed within my chest, and I felt it— everywhere .

My neck, my temples. My scar. Wrists. Under the skin of my ring. It was as if I were made of a single, giant muscle whose only purpose was to pound a hole into the earth.

The screaming ceased all at once as the cinder dimmed, its dust sprinkling over a still meadow.

“Bloody void,” Kaden swore.

As I gulped and then sucked in a deep lungful of air, the toe of my boot stepped into a deep crevice. My body flew forward, and I yelped. Across the meadow, I glimpsed the flowers as they trembled, the ash being tossed off the petals.

Rapidly, I fell, and my aura skittered over me as my hands flew out to break the impact, my dagger still clutched in my palm.

It was as if time unraveled—my descent in slow motion. My ember zipped over my arms, the branch-like patterns glowing over them. The tourmaline ring burned as if it was branding itself onto my finger.

My eyes squeezed tight. And then, as I nearly slammed into the ground, a bright snap of light burst and engulfed me.

I was an orb, condensing and twisting and churning, with a body made of fractured rainbows and mist—splitting through time and place. My mind tore apart. Through a coiling tunnel of flashing colors and radiant streaks, my being hurtled.

With another burst of brightness, my form plopped onto solid ground.

I gagged, not able to get enough air, but then wheezed, breath tearing through my throat. Coughing, I rolled onto my hip and then liberated the boiling sick within my gut. I wiped my mouth with my trembling hand, glaring at the sculpted ring as it cooled, my aura shivering and sinking within me.

The neon flowers loomed over me, mocking me with their swaying splendor. I threw my hand down and met an unyielding, smooth surface. I gasped, scooting away from whatever I had smacked.

My brows furrowed as I beheld a sizable golden egg. It gleamed in the shifting rays sneaking through the heads of the flowers. It must belong to the beast , I thought, frantically listening for any sounds approaching. Only the whishing of leaves met me.

Sheathing my dagger, I slowly stood, my guts still roiling from— what? Transporting through time and space?

Oh, my fucking Ancients.

My shoulders stooped as I peeked over, scanning my surroundings. Kaden, Breena, and Rhaegar were across the vast field. The ring had transported me to the opposite side, near the cliff’s brink, where the meshed Larkin brothers had fallen in my dream. Which meant I might be near the orchid.

My eyes were drawn to the clearing between us as the stalks separated in a swerving line, the flora trembling and swishing as the orchid’s protector scraped past them.

Without much thought, I whimpered, scooping up the gilded egg. It was warm as I wrapped both arms around it, hands clasping on opposite wrists.

I dashed toward the exposed, glossy stone ledge, hollering loudly as I ran, “Over here! Look what I have! Come on, you fiend!”

My team waved their arms frantically, and I suspected they were cussing and cursing me to the Nether Void for what I was doing. I didn’t let that stop me, though.

I planted my feet on the black rock as I stumbled from the meadow, the rigid leaves snagging the fabric of my clothes.

“Shut up, you fool,” a rasping voice hissed. I immediately drew my dagger as I spun around, balancing the egg in one arm. Whatever was inside wiggled and shifted, the shell twitching.

The female Draumr emerged, her sword aimed directly at me, glinting in the sunlight.

“Sebille, wait.” I held up my dagger with only my thumb and forefinger, the other fingers stretching wide in concession. “We need each other in this moment.”

“I don’t need you … or anyone, you vapid imbecile.” She had an excellent vocabulary. I’d give her that. She glared down her slightly hooked nose, gesturing with her blade’s tip at the egg. “What do you have there?”

It was true that I had used it to divert its beastly mother from attacking my friends. From the corner of my vision, I didn’t notice any further movement, so I suspected it had worked … for now.

My other truth was that I didn’t wish any harm to befall the innocent, unborn offspring. There was too much suffering as it was without hurting other living beings who were just trying to survive—like all of us.

I took a tentative step back.

“Ah, no, you don’t.” She followed as I took another stride. And another. “Halt, or I will impale you right through that damned egg. I swear it.”

I believed her, but there was no other option. She would most likely impale me if I stayed where I was, or the creature would make itself known. I didn’t want to linger when it did.

As I reached back once more with the heel of my boot, it caught a jagged piece of stone. The unwieldy vessel shifted in my arm, the movement upsetting my balance.

My dagger dropped with a clatter as I tripped, my bottom slamming into the ground. Wincing from the pain, I swung my arm around, clasping my wrists together again, ensuring the cocooned creature was protected.

My nose scrunched as I attempted to focus, my eyes peering through Sebille’s shoulder-width stance. A quick intake of breath filled my chest because there it was—the Mirage Orchid—just as I had dreamed it.