Page 8

FIREFLIES IN A JAR

T he stony archway towered before us, commanding attention. Several creeping shades loitered at our backs but did not press forward.

“Are we safe from them?” Letti’s voice trembled, and she leaned her shoulder into mine.

“They won’t come near the passageway. They’ll disintegrate if they come too close to its ember,” Gavrel replied. He positioned himself near me, his broad shoulders and chest blocking the Stygian Murk from my peripheral. “Let’s go, everyone. Walk through, and you’ll be free of this place.”

“What’s on the other side, Gav?” Kaden tipped his head toward his brother, rubbing a palm over his flat belly, one eyebrow arched.

“It’s Surrelia.” Gavrel squared his feet.

An audible chorus of gasps flew through the air. My stomach lurched as I gawked at the rocky egress, shoulders frozen in place. I held my breath, hearing only the whooshing of the wind through the arch. He didn’t continue.

Breena broke the silence, her sarcasm dripping through a toothy grin. “So … you mean we’re all dead? Meeting the Ancients, as they say.”

“No, we’re not dead … at least, not yet. Let’s go,” he insisted as he placed a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward.

“Are you bloody serious?” I demanded, digging my heels into the dusty ground. “We’re going to need more than that, Gavrel Larkin.”

He’d known me long enough to know how stubborn I could be. I wasn’t budging. He stepped in front of me, making eye contact with each of us. “I promise many of your questions will be answered in the next few weeks.”

He turned to the side, holding his arm toward the entrance in an invitation. “Please, let’s head through. We’ll talk more there. We’re running out of time.” His mouth went soft, his dark eyes pleading. Gavrel didn’t plead. I didn’t recall his mouth ever looking so full, considering it was usually trapped in a scowl.

“Fine. But I won’t forget your promise.” I stomped around him to the entrance. When the others followed, Letti grasped my hand in hers as we moved.

“I would certainly hope not,” he muttered, herding us into the portal that led to where the Ancients once presided.

Many people believed the Ancients had deserted us long ago after cursing Midst Fall with the Withering. Several people still followed their old ways, praying harder and performing rituals in desperate repentance—trusting that the Ancients would never set such a scourge upon our lands. They believed the Ancients were, in fact, protecting us through the Dormancy. Some naysayers doubted the Ancients ever existed. I didn’t know what to think. Most of my time was consumed by thoughts of surviving the days ahead.

Upon reaching the center of the narrow passage, I looked through the arch to the dusty horizon beyond. In the next moment, a snap of glaring light enveloped us like a tidal wave crashing over everything in its path. I found the sensation strangely soothing, similar to sinking your body into a warm pond.

When we stepped out of the arch, my hand shot up to cover my eyes. Brilliant azure hues painted the sky; not a cloud was in sight. I sucked in a deep breath, my stomach and chest expanding with the fresh air.

I spun around, my tangled auburn curls twirling around me before settling on my back and shoulders again. The Stygian Murk had vanished. We had exited a tall, vaulted archway. Dense amber glass—like that of an active Dormancy pod—formed its outer frame. Its edges were glazed in silver, liquid-like metal. Spinning mist and twinkling luminescence filled its interior, resembling hundreds of dancing fireflies trapped in a hazy jar.

My feet stood firmly on a pristine platform made of sparkling white marble, curving ahead of us. Stepping down a few bow-shaped steps, a path created from copper-colored glass continued from the platform, forming a narrow lane through the center of a semi-circular grove of lush trees. The leaves were rich shades of orange and red, creating massive domes that sheltered the mossy ground below.

The glass pathway was big enough for four people to walk shoulder to shoulder. Lining either side of the trail were deep, glimmering aqua pools that ended before the grove. I’d never seen such an electric color before.

Sparkling sand covered the bottom. Movement caught my eye as a fish with iridescent white scales swam beside us and under the glass walkway, one violet eye curiously assessing us. It was the size of a chubby cat that had roamed freely in our village for turns.

I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until Kaden’s fingers nudged it back into place. He walked toward the grove, following Breena and Letti, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

My eyes found Gavrel’s fixed on me. They were deep green again, stark against his tanned skin. It was startling seeing the world in color once more. A quick puff of air left me. “This … this is beautiful.”

“It is. You’re safe now.” His gaze was warm and reassuring, reminding me of home.

“How long were we there? It felt like days, but I’m not entirely sure.”

“Time moves differently there. While it’s been only a day in the mortal plane and Surrelia; it was roughly three days in the Stygian Murk,” he explained.

I hugged one arm across my chest, holding on to the other. I nodded in understanding, even though I didn’t understand anything at all.

“It’ll take some time. The ember in that place is malignant. It drains you of your will to hope—to live . Don’t let it win.” He brushed his hand over my shoulder, a warm path lingering under my skin in its wake.

“I have so many questions, but they all feel too overwhelming.” The weight of bewilderment pressed down on me. My eyes closed for a moment.

“I know. I’ll do my best to answer them when you’ve rested. I’m here if you need me.”

My gaze fell on my dress, covered in crusted blood and grime. “Thank you, Gav. I do need something …” An embarrassed smile lifted the corners of my mouth. “For the love of Ancients, lead the way to a bath.”

His full lips smirked, his cheeks pushing the skin around his eyes into crinkles. My face flushed, and I stammered, “I mean … for me. Alone. I, uh … You can take a bath. By yourself …” I trailed off, flustered and looking at everything but him.

“Thank you for allowing me a bath.” He chuckled.

“I meant?—”

“Take a breath, Seryn. I knew what you meant. Shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm. I placed mine in the crook of his elbow, pressing my front teeth into my lower lip. The heat in my cheeks abated.

We strolled through the grove, everything around us bursting with life. The curious fish from earlier followed us under the transparent trail, swimming in lazy circles under the glass.

If pigments were drained from the Stygian Murk, I wondered if Surrelia was where they culminated. The vibrancy of the flora, sky, and water brimmed over as if the hues would spill into you if touched. I dipped my head. Perhaps I was used to Evergryn, which was pallid and depleted.

I glanced at his right hand, curious if the mark was still visible. It was, but it was no longer glowing. I unthreaded my arm from his elbow, pausing a moment under the orange shade of the grove. He shifted slightly toward me with one eyebrow raised.

“What is this on your hand?” I took his thick wrist in one hand and the toughened tips of his fingers in the other, flattening his palm to get a better look. His skin was warm as he allowed me to inspect it.

It was an intricate, geometric tattoo drawn in silver metallic ink—a ten-point star with delicate lines crisscrossing between the vertices. In the center was a perfect decagon—the sacred figure of the Ancients. An image of our ten-sided conservatory flitted through my mind like a distant memory.

My thoughts were distracting me as I brushed my thumb over the tattoo. A soft light underneath the mark illuminated it for a moment. Gavrel pulled his hand from mine, covering it with his other.

He cleared his throat. “It does that sometimes.” He faced forward, and we continued on the path. “I’m part of a specialized Order of Draumr unit granted augmented abilities through tattooed runes. It’s useful in battle—it enhances our strength and agility. Connects with our weapons, enabling them to deflect or destroy lesser ember forms.” He hesitated, a heavy exhale falling from his lips. “The mark is only visible outside Midst Fall.”

“Oh. Well, that’s amazing, Gav. I’m so proud of you. I didn’t realize that was even possible. The runes, I mean.” My eyebrows lifted in interest.

A small smile crept across his lips, the slightest color blushing his ears. I noticed he kept his wavy ebony hair trimmed neatly. It was long enough for the top to be swept back casually, loose waves from the sides teasing his nape and ears.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. His smile faltered and fell into a flat line once again. “The Elders and their ember can do many unimaginable things.”

I looked at him. “Well, I’m grateful for it. Yours kept the shades from attacking us further.” One corner of my mouth ticked upward. “Thank you for finding us, by the way.”

“The Nether Void couldn’t keep me from finding you, Little Star.” His eyes swept over my face. Under his piercing stare, heat flared across my rounded cheeks. He was the only one who still used my nickname. For a moment, I wondered what he saw.

Mama gave me the moniker as a child. She used to say my scar was a star-shaped kiss from the Ancients, then would smack a smooch on my cheek and tickle me into fits of laughter. A smile spread across my face at the memory.

As we exited the trees, my hands came together to make a steeple in front of my lips. I wasn’t sure if I was praying or holding in another breath. The aqua-colored water appeared again, hugging the mossy land of the grove. However, this water was flowing, a broad river moving steadily. More of the enchanting, iridescent fish glided through the depths.

In the distance, our glassy footpath met three others, rooting into the edge of an overhang. They reminded me of dribbled lines of honey floating upon the water, the currents licking at their borders. The river vanished over the precipice, rushing around the edges of the burnished glass. At the brink, the four glass walkways melded together to form an enormous bridge, sinuous silver creating delicate guardrails on either side.

My examination followed the trails, curious about where they led. A wide field of grass met my perusal. A dense forest bordered the sprawling field, packed with domed, sunset-colored trees and splashes of vibrant but unfamiliar flora. Several long buildings stretched along the edge of the field, adjacent to the wooded expanse.

“That’s the mainland, with the barracks and training field. Beyond that is an expansive stretch of woodlands—the Reverie Weald,” Gavrel mentioned, noting where my line of sight had strayed.

Several people were milling about, working in a large garden, and sparring with weapons. Among them, a few auras sporadically flickered into view one moment and then disappeared the next like flames in the wind.

“Can you see their auras?” I asked.

“Not unless someone is using ember.”

“I keep seeing them, even when they aren’t. It started a while ago, back home. I’d see flashes of Kaden’s aura but didn’t realize it then. I … I think something is wrong with me.”

His lips pressed together as he shook his head, eyes softening. “On the contrary, it seems like a very useful ability. The Druiks I’ve met can’t do that. Perhaps it has something to do with your gift. Only time will tell.”

I nodded once, my attention drawn to a young woman throwing a ball back and forth with some children. A small child with unruly hair bent to catch the rolling ball, but it escaped through his fingers, bowling toward the edge of the field. The child wobbled after the tricky ball. His little feet were surprisingly swift but not quick enough as the plaything zipped under the wooden post-and-rail fence that skirted the edge of a sweeping bluff. The woman scooped up the toddler as he reached his arms out toward the steep precipice, crying for his lost toy.

My brows scrunched downward. “Gav, what happens to children in the Stygian Murk?” I asked him, my voice thick with unease.

He rested a warm palm on my shoulder, turning to me. “Fortunately, the younger you are, the closer you materialize near the portal. Those under twenty-one do not stay in limbo long. Very young children are maybe inside for a moment; older children usually no longer than fifteen minutes. The shades aren’t drawn to those without ember.” I bobbed my head in understanding, the pressure in my chest subsiding as we approached the bridge.

I gulped, my stomach clenching as I watched the aqua water rushing over the overhang in a curtained cascade. Through the translucent base, plummeting water smashed into a furious river far below. Its currents meandered around another imposing cliff, isolated from the mainland entirely. The sun reflected off the islet’s glassy black stone, dancing along the conchoidal fractures scattered over its surface.

My knees wobbled, and tingles raced from my belly to my toes. I pressed my heels and the balls of my feet more firmly into the glass with every step, ensuring I wouldn’t topple over the tenuous handrail.

We met the others waiting in the center of the bridge, their necks craning to take in the mesmerizing scene before us. Once more, I peeked at the faraway river below as it spilled into a churning turquoise sea. “Is … is that the Insomnis Sea?” I murmured, unsure if Gavrel heard me.

“It is—the one and only,” he said, a gentle smile tipping his lips.

I exhaled, my trembling breath floating toward the fabled waves.

Beyond the other end of the bridge, a palace made from moonstone towered above, its bottom half directly embedded within the cliff face. Various turrets pierced the sky, free from the obsidian crag. The luminescent walls of the fortress were captivating—splashed with shiny flecks and shimmering iridescent patches. Depending on the angle, the colorful spots looked lit internally, blue and gold shifting in the sunbeams.

My gaze dragged further upward, squinting against the sun. A copious number of spires lined the top of the palace and its turrets. They were narrow, made of brilliant crystals of varying heights. When the light hit the quartz just right, the prisms split the rays and cast a spray of rainbow-colored tessellations.

“Can we live here now? Forever?” Breena laughed; her quiet words somewhat drowned under the rumbling waterfall.

Gavrel made a dismissive sound in his throat and led us to the massive gatehouse entrance, which was flanked by two Draumr warriors. He nodded to them, and they moved to open the metal gate made of silvery posts fused in an elegant, arched grid.

“High ranking, eh?” Kaden smiled as he bumped his shoulder against his brother’s. The motion didn’t budge Gavrel one bit.

“Something like that,” he grumbled.

As we approached the palace’s vaulted entrance, Gavrel said, “I’ll show you to your rooms, where you can get washed up and rest for a bit.”

He looked at a Draumr standing near the doorway and waved her over. Then he looked at Letti, his lips scrunching and releasing a quick puff of air. “Letti, you’ll have to go with this guard. She’s one of my best.”

“Xeni Reed.” The guard dipped her head in a slight bow toward Letti.

Gavrel went on. “Those who aren’t Druiks are required to stay in the mainland barracks. I’m sorry. I wish you could stay in the palace.”

“Absolutely not,” my voice bounced off the moonstone walls.

He grimaced. “I don’t control this, Seryn. The Elders’ procedures are stringent. Almost everyone stays in the barracks, besides the Elders, my unit, and Druiks.” The sound of his boots shifting sifted through the air. “She’ll be well taken care of, I assure you. You’ll see each other daily.”

“What do you mean? The Elders are here in Surrelia? I thought they didn’t have to endure the Dormancy,” Kaden blurted, one brow arching. Of course, he fixated on that part. I crossed my arms across my chest, glaring at both men.

Gavrel’s jaw set in a stony square. “It means, brother, we have to follow procedure. More will be revealed in due time.”

“This is ridic—” My retort was cut short by Letti’s soft but firm voice.

“It’s all right. I’ll go. Please, lead the way,” she said to the guard before wrapping her arms around me in a steady hug and then standing straight, aligning her back. Ever the peacemaker. “I’ll find you later, Ser. I’ll see if Father is there.”

“Thank you, Letti. Xeni will watch out for you, won’t you?” Gavrel glowered at the young guard. It wasn’t a question. “At sunset, everyone must meet in the Great Hall,” he added. Standing tall next to Letti, the young warrior nodded firmly, her chin-length, wavy black hair and tawny brown skin gleaming in the sunlight.

I hugged Letti again before she turned and walked over the bridge. A stray rainbow-colored beam weaved within her golden hair. My worried gaze lingered on it until I could no longer see them.

I had to trust Gavrel. He was the only one who seemed to know what was going on. I wondered how often he had done this for us during the Dormancy.

Had he helped us escape from the Stygian Murk every time?

I didn’t want to imagine being trapped in that nightmarish landscape endlessly. My insides squeezed into knots, forcing acid up my throat.

Inhaling through my nose, I let the pure air soothe me and slow my thoughts. I knew deep within my bones he would never put any of us in harm’s way. He’d always watched out for Letti and me. He took care of Kaden after their parents had died.

I’d pick a different battle later if I had to. This wasn’t it. I set my shoulders back and put one foot in front of the other. We passed through the beckoning entryway—unwitting flies settling in the gaping maw of a beautiful snapwyvern plant.