Page 24

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Oralia

Aelestor and Drystan drew their swords in one heartbeat, and in the next, the weapons clattered to the ground at the god’s feet. She laughed lightly and turned to kneel beside me once more, pushing the sweaty hair from my face. There was no mud on my hands or caked on my face. The blood I’d thought sprayed across my cheeks was absent, along with the scent of Ren.

None of it had been real. I was sure of it. Then why did I tremble? Why, when I closed my eyes, did I see his distrustful face staring back at me?

“Do not touch her,” Drystan growled, darting forward to grab his sword.

The god allowed it, a smile tugging at her full lips while her claws dragged across my scalp. His blade appeared at her throat, but she merely tapped the edge, skittering her fingers across it like the keys of an instrument.

“I have what you are looking for, darling,” she crooned in my direction, wrapping a hand around my arm, and with a strength that far surpassed her stature, she dragged me to my feet.

Drystan and Aelestor rushed forward, but she maneuvered me effortlessly between her and them, providing a barrier they would not dare to break.

“Come, children,” she called, slithering an arm around my waist to guide me forward.

My knees shook as she guided us over the boggy terrain, and for the first time, it changed. Dark swamp spread out in all directions. Water rose around our ankles. Tangles of vines threatened each step. Yet this god did not pause as we waded into the water toward the towering tree, wide branches dipping down into the water. She only hummed under her breath, occasionally looking back to catch my eye or else reaching for my hand to brace me.

“Young gods are so… vital ,” she mused. “Watching you and myhn latska cahdren here was the most excitement I have had in years.”

My brows pulled together. “It was not real…”

The words were more for me than for her. But she shushed me, brushing back the hair clinging to my cheeks before reaching back to gather my heavy cloak where it dragged in the waist-high water. The gnarled tree grew larger as we approached, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught her checking over one shoulder to ensure Aelestor and Drystan were following.

“Of course, it was not real,” she answered, voice honey-sweet. “You do not know who I am, do you, sweetling?”

Aelestor mumbled under his breath, pulling a tinkling laugh from the god. But it was Drystan who answered in a hollow tone, raising his sword higher to avoid the water.

“Dreams.”

The god hummed again, gripping my hand when I slipped on the murky silt as we climbed onto the opposite shore. “Close, demigod.” But she did not release her grip, only tugged me forward toward the gargantuan trunk.

I remembered the horror washing through my veins, the strange thickness on my tongue, and heaviness in my chest. How the image of Ren had flickered with each blink. The words he had spoken, putting voice to my deepest fears. Even now, I could not shake it. The memory lingered on my skin like a grimy film.

“Nightmares,” I breathed.

The god crooned, patting my hand once. “Very good, sweetling.”

“ Stars ,” Aelestor grunted. “Just what we need.”

But I could only stare at her, the delicate slope of her nose, her hair braided over her crown which caught the faint unearthly light of this place in shades of auburn. Her power was different than mine and Aelestor’s, different even than Thorne’s. She reminded me more of Morana.

We did not stop before the tree as I assumed. Instead, she halted our progress in the shallow edge of the water lapping at our ankles.

“You are timeless…” My words were soft. I feared this god and all she could do—the power roiling beneath her skin. She had made me see my greatest fears without even realizing her magic was working on me. It must have been the prickle I’d felt on the back of my neck, but her power had taken hold the moment we arrived on these shores.

Something like sorrow crossed her features, lips downturned into the approximation of a frown. The look was so soft it changed her entire countenance, breathtaking beauty shining through for an instant before it winked out like a flame.

But she did not respond, only extended one hand out to the side, clicking her tongue twice. Muck bubbled, and a great groan rumbled beneath our feet. Aelestor and Drystan slid closer to my side, staring at our new companion with tight eyes.

“When you endanger her, you endanger this entire world,” Aelestor warned, his hand gripping tightly around the hilt of his weapon.

The god grinned, white teeth catching in the dark. “I can see why your Josette likes you. Protective”—she winked at him—“possessive, even of your queen. But lower your sword, Lord Thyella. I mean your queen no harm. Not anymore.”

Behind her, the mud bubbled higher, a sickening, rumbling suction vibrating through the ground. I blinked, and a creature dragged itself from the mud, wide haunches twisting to free itself, heavy front feet flaring wide to balance. On four legs, it ambled in our direction, clumps of earth slapping to the ground with each step. A tail flicked, exposing a razor-sharp talon slicing through the air with a whistle.

The god crooned, clicked her tongue again, and wiggled her fingers. “Come, Hezanah.”

Her grip tightened on my wrist as I stumbled back. The monster’s head was large, higher than even Drystan’s and Aelestor’s height, with slits for eyes, glowing yellow in the dark. Something protruded from its flattened muzzle, wrapped in dark cloth untouched by the muck dripping from its body.

No…this creature was made of the muck and mud and earth.

The monster—Hezanah, the god had called it—chuffed and dropped the bundle at her feet with a splash before nuzzling her open palm.

“Good boy,” she praised and leaned forward to press her forehead to the creature’s huge muzzle, nearly the size of her head. “Listen for me. I will call when we need you.”

Aelestor spluttered while Drystan shook his head. I had not realized they’d shifted to place themselves between me and the creature. My chest ached, and I rubbed at it with my free hand before drawing him back before the god noticed.

“What is it?” I asked. For the first time, I realized the silver thread within my chest was humming again. Only through its reappearance had I realized its absence.

The god scooped up the bundle carefully as one might a child before passing it into my arms. She ran her fingertips across my forehead, and each touch sent a shiver down my spine, discomfort roiling in my gut.

“You know, I wondered what it was connected to, that thread,” she mused, reaching out in the space between me and the bundle and twisting her wrist.

When she tugged, I gasped, the feeling echoed in my sternum.

She had been the one pulling on the connection, somehow able to see it when others could not.

“How can you…” I started, unable to finish.

Ice-cold hands cupped my face, and I frowned, fighting the urge to cringe. This time, she did not smile. The strange, wild amusement melted from her expression the way sleep melted from one’s shoulders.

“I am Samarah, the God of Nightmares. My power rests within the in-between, the space between dreams, the moment between sleeping and waking.”

Something prickled on the back of my neck at her words, a memory as insubstantial as the mist flickering through my mind: Ren’s face, close to mine, his midnight eyes earnest in their expression.

This is the space between dreams, the moment between sleeping and waking.

Before I could question further, she reached out, tugged Drystan closer, and placed his hand on my shoulder and doing the same with Aelestor. “Come, children, we should be off. I will help you carry the load.”

Power slithered across my wrist where she held me, and my shadows flared of their own accord. My brows furrowed. “Where is it you want us to go?”

Samarah blinked. “Infernis, of course. I want to see what my nephew has done with the kingdom since I last saw it.”

“Nephew?” Aelestor huffed with incredulity.

The God of Nightmares rolled her eyes. “You lot are slow .”

“Ren…” I breathed. “Ren is your nephew.”

She shrugged. “It is a human term I found I quite like. If anything, he was a son, though before time began it is strange to try to recall his birth. But I remember I was the one to pull him from Asteria’s womb. I watched him grow and guided him with the others. I mourned him when we left, mourned him when Typhon plucked off his wings like a child with an insect. Horrible thing, to be stripped of one’s wings. It is the easiest way to subdue a timeless god, you know.” Her magic vibrated against me, my shadows widening in reaction to engulf us. “Enough chatter, darling.”

The three of us exchanged a tense look before I blew out a breath and pulled the shadows around our group. Shadow-walking Aelestor, Drystan, and myself was a skill I’d been taught before I left Infernis for Aethera, a preparatory measure Ren had insisted I learn. But to shadow-walk four of us was too much. Her power strengthened my own, slotting into the fraying gaps

We stepped in unison, the darkness swallowing all light and sound. There, again, I thought I caught sight of a pair standing close to the end of the dark, staring, waiting, but for what I did not know.

I felt more than saw Samarah raise a hand as if she was greeting them before the shadows melted and Infernis appeared. She gave a hum of approval, gazing up at the bones of the castle, and reached out to stroke the closest. The same soft look fell over her face.

Footsteps clattered over the stairs before Horace reached us, ruby eyes wide as he looked over our group before he froze.

“ Maelith ,” he breathed.

And as the old word registered in my mind, I realized who it was standing beside me. A bright smile broke across her face.

“Miss me?”