Page 9 of The Night Is Defying (Nytefall Trilogy #2)

9

A straea

The beauty of the forest around me soothed my sharp anticipation. I watched the final violet flare of the key diffuse the sky through the frost tipped leaves. Birds chirped quietly in the early hour, and the sun glittered on the snow.

Having Rose with me helped calm my nerves. I was glad she’d been eager to agree to accompany me. Auster had only warned me not to tell Nyte.

“You really don’t look so well,” Rose fussed again.

I’d definitely had a little too much to drink last night. In all the excitement, I hadn’t eaten well either.

“I’ll be fine; I just need a drink,” I brushed off. “Maybe something to eat.”

“I wonder if they eat and drink the same as us,” Rose said.

That inspired some amusement in me. “I don’t think they’re much different.”

“I’ve been picturing purple mushrooms and blue wine.”

“And pixies that pick them from yellow grass meadows,” I added.

“Pink waterfalls that can get you drunk.”

“Talking trees of wisdom.”

We both burst into soft giggles with the conjurings that kept getting more ridiculous.

“I prefer the yellow mushrooms, and celestial wine is in fact tinted light blue.” A deep, new voice broke our idle waiting.

A branch cracked, indicating an advancing footfall. My head whipped with a spike of adrenaline heating my skin, tingling my fingertips with magick like it was trying to remind me we were never helpless. Never powerless. If only I gave my trust to it. I had the key at my hip and my dagger at my thigh, but I didn’t reach for either when my tension diffused at the sight of Auster.

He was more beautiful in the daylight. No hood, and his smile for me fluttered in my stomach. His wings glittered faintly against the sunlight. Auster wasn’t alone either, and it wasn’t him who spoke. When I caught sight of the handsome dark skinned man beside him…

“You,” I breathed in disbelief.

I blinked with the flash of memory. His hands on me. How he’d seemed to recognize me that day he’d saved me.

“I thought you… I heard you—”

“You doubted my combat against three amateur vampires?” he mused with a stunning smile that creased around his green eyes.

He’d saved me from them in the woodland next to Goldfell Manor before I ever knew I’d be heading to the Central. I’d heard his cry and believed he’d died for me. I became overwhelmed with relief that wasn’t true.

“Thank you,” I said through a breath of disbelief. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t know who you were or what or—”

“It’s no matter.” He chuckled at my flustering. “I was clueless about your lost memories, so that apology is mine. I must have frightened you.”

I huffed a laugh too, because at the time it had been terrifying to that lost, scared woman of the manor.

“This is Rosalind,” I introduced as she’d been waiting patiently by me. Her face was quietly studying our company. “I hope you don’t mind, but I trust her.”

“A pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Astraea’s is one of ours, of course,” Auster said. He was so polite and elegant. Everything I expected of the celestials.

“My name is Zadkiel.”

I reached for the hand he extended to me, and now that I wasn’t out of my wits in fear after a near vampire attack, I felt his touch differently. Safe.

“Did I know you?” I asked. My thoughts tunneled away while we shook hands, as if trying to find some pictures for the familiarity he bore.

“I was a lot younger back then, but yes.”

That enlightened me to my first idea I hadn’t considered about the celestials. The vampires had long lifespans: I knew the fae did too.

Rose seemed to have the same thought as she asked, “How old are you?”

Zadkiel smiled at her, and there was something in it that had me looking to Rose for her reaction. I’d never seen her shy from attention before.

“Our lifespans can reach a millennium. We measure in decades. I’m thirty-three.”

Such a number was far easier to comprehend than over three hundred years old.

Auster met my curious gaze, suppressing an amused quirk of his mouth.

“Forty-eight.” He answered my unspoken question. “You would be forty-three this decade.”

That’s where the illusion it could translate to human aging was broken. Auster didn’t appear a day older than his early thirties. His eyes were young, his skin glowed with a heathy tan, and even the few wrinkles around his forehead and eyes seemed caused more by the responsibility of being a High Celestial than from aging. Zadkiel had a youthful, carefree charm about him, and his dark skin was smooth and burdenless. I found him comfortable to be around, while Auster certainly had more of an air of authority that touched me in his presence.

I was beginning to lean more into my gut feelings, knowing some of them were pulling at threads from long ago. I was learning to trust myself, and it was empowering me more and more each day I crushed my self-doubt.

“Shall we go?” Auster said, holding a hand out to me.

I tracked the wings expanding over his shoulders and my throat dried.

“We’re flying?” I asked.

“We could use the void, but I’m afraid I can only carry one person through at a time and Zadkiel doesn’t have the ability. Besides, you must be missing it—flying. I hope we’ll find your wings soon.”

My stomach was twisting so tight. I loved heights. When Nyte had taken me high through the night I’d been yearning deeply to fly again. But staring at Auster’s invitation in an upturned right palm, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being in an intimate hold with him instead.

It’s just transport. Nothing more.

I looked to Rose, because if she wasn’t comfortable with it, I would insist we take turns going with him through the void. She gave me a small nod, however, and stepped closer to Zadkiel. I watched them first, and Rose let him take her into his arms while hers hooked around his neck. I almost felt the need to glance away from the look they shared.

Taking a deep breath, I slipped my hand into Auster’s, and it might have been childish of me to be glad we both wore gloves. Zadkiel took off with Rose and my stomach tumbled when my legs were swept from under me, and I had no choice but to press tightly to Auster.

His scent trickled over me—a hint of honey and some kind of spice. I couldn’t unlock my body. My heart was thundering fast, and I tried to tame it.

“Relax,” he said gently. His brown eyes were closer than ever, and in the daylight, I was hypnotized. Locked on them, though if I let them keep pulling me, I would discover answers I wasn’t sure I was ready for, with the way my skin slicked under my dress.

“Do you need a moment?” he asked.

Pull yourself together. I shook my head, swallowing through my dry throat.

“I’m okay.”

“Good.”

My arms tightened as he crouched, then shot skyward with long, powerful beats of his wings. To distract from the broad, muscular body I was clutching for dear life, I lost myself in the tiered cityscape of Vesitire. Auster flew higher until we were engulfed by clouds and the mist of them dampened my hair. The view up here was breathtaking. The clouds invited me to let Auster go and let them catch me in their fluffy embrace instead. A beautiful but deadly illusion of comfort.

“Is this your first time flying since you’ve been back?” Auster asked.

Guilt riddled me. His warm breath fanned my ear, and I was so conflicted with the closeness of him.

“No,” I said honestly. “But the first in the daytime.”

I dared to look at him. Auster was a dream up here, as stunning as any fable of a guardian angel. It made me anxious to discover what I might have felt for him in the past and why he hadn’t been enough for my heart to let go of the one person who was catastrophic for me and the world. Perhaps I would learn that it was all me. My wrongs. My twistedness and selfishness. What if I despised the person I had been? Someone who had been close to condemning a world for the villain that terrorized it.

Auster’s expression was pinched in thought as he stared ahead. The sun kissed his skin and I resisted the urge to reach for his face and trace the shadow line of his jaw. When I realized that impulse, I looked away quickly, hoping we didn’t have much longer in the sky.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to you before he did. Before you ended up in that game too. But at least something good came of your triumph in it—you found your key.”

“I haven’t mastered the use of that either. Nyte is going to help me with my magick.”

I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned Nyte because it locked Auster’s jaw and his arms tightened around me as if he thought of flying farther than Althenia, beyond where Nyte could find me again. I knew that was futile. Somehow, I believed Nyte would always find me against all odds.

“We’re here. You might feel the veil awakening your magick.”

Gravity flipped my stomach as we dropped, falling out of the cloud bank. I gawked, blinking at the sudden change of luminosity as we headed toward a bright starry infusion like the light battled the dark. I wasn’t afraid of it, I was pulled toward it with a gravity so strong my hold slackened on Auster.

When the veil engulfed us, I wasn’t in his arms anymore. I felt Nyte. This veil was like a full embrace of him I wanted to stay suspended in. My magick flared in tendrils of silver that found a home in here. I searched through it like I would find the only dawn that could defy the night. His eyes. I wanted to search endlessly for them but too soon I was pulled from my peace.

I could have whimpered with the lashing I felt within after leaving the veil behind and I watched it over Auster’s shoulder for a while as we flew away from it. When I turned, my attention was quickly stolen by the most ethereal sight I’d ever seen.

Of all the tales and wonders, maps and drawings, nothing could come close to depicting the true impact of the otherworldly expanse that was Althenia. The land of the celestials.

High above, it appeared just as I’d seen on paper. There was a center island surrounded by four land masses that were divided by water. The illusion of the river paths was like a six point star with two extra river paths forming smaller lakes on the largest side where the veil ran across.

As we descended toward a glass castle on the central island, I couldn’t stop my wandering awe. When my feet finally met ground, I stared over the city, so vibrant with color, from a grand balcony with no rail to prevent a fall.

“Welcome home,” Auster said, quietly, as though he had filled with emotion too.

His two words wove in me with promise and security. I embraced that feeling—this was home. It just wasn’t the only one I knew.

“I didn’t live here, though,” I concluded. When the castle of Vesitire was also so familiar.

“You chose to govern in Vesitire as it was central on the continent,” he confirmed.

“You didn’t stay there with me?”

“I did for a while. When I thought we might…” he trailed off, catching himself against the wound of the past but I knew what he was going to say.

At some point in our past, I had to have contemplated a life with him. It would have been favorable to the land, the people. It seemed utterly outlandish I wouldn’t choose him.

Auster said carefully, “What happened to you these past five years? When you fell, we almost had you—” he slipped a look at me and if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought he appeared nervous. “We failed you. The trace we had disappeared, and we have never been able to pick it up again. Then our spies were certain they’d seen you in Vesitire, in that wretched game, of all things. We learned Nightsdeath was back, and he had you.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” I said honestly.

Auster stood with clasped hands behind his back where his towering silver wings displayed proudly. I could see the coat of authority he wore well, fit to rule the people.

My attention was once again caught on a glint of silver at his side.

“What happened?” I asked, transfixed on his metal left hand.

Auster faced me so I couldn’t keep staring. My cheeks warmed. I couldn’t help it when it was as if my mind reached for a cloudy memory like the first time I saw it. Trying to remember how he’d lost his hand, as if I should know.

“It happened in battle,” he said somberly. “Close to the end.”

My brow knitted together in the cloud of sorrow we shared.

A familiar laugh turned my body to the doors behind us. Rose appeared so soft and relaxed in Zadkiel’s company that it was unexpected but a joy to witness. They joined us outside and when she found me, her eyes lit up.

“Isn’t this place incredible?” she gushed.

“Yes,” I agreed.

It meant so much to me that she was enamored with these lands. It was as if all past burdens and transgressions didn’t follow her here and showed a new bright layer under Rose’s usual guarded exterior.

“This has been and always will be your home too, no matter where you settle to govern,” Auster said, having edged closer to me, his soft eyes angled down at me now.

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to give the impression of anything other than learning the ways and land here. I wasn’t ready to face anything of… us yet.

“Can we go down there?” I asked, glancing over the magnificent spectacle of Althenia.

In the distance, I thought I could make out other glass buildings as grand as this one across the wide river that encompassed us.

“I would love to show you my lands of the House of Nova. We occupy the center island of Althenia.”

I was gripped in fascination, and from the twinkle in Auster’s eye, he knew I would follow eagerly as he turned, heading inside. Zadkiel and Rose walked with me.

“When you see the other islands governed by each of my brothers, you’ll find there’s a distinction in our wears and a few of our customs are different. But where a celestial is born doesn’t prevent them from ever changing location. It’s not as simple as moving at will. There is an assessment for migration to keep the populations sustainable.”

The tall entrance doors opened at our approach without any physical influence. This place was made of magick. It hummed in the air and as we stepped out I realized something I should have realized sooner.

“Does the veil distort the weather on this side?” I questioned. While it was cold, there was no snow on this island.

“Not exactly; it is my magick that influences the temperature. I am known to some as the God of South Wind. My magick is crafted of storms and it charges through my lands. It’s why some celestials move. They find themselves drawn to another High Celestial’s power, which is a certain call to them in itself.”

I found that fascinating. Maybe that’s why I felt charged by it—from being his bonded. Perhaps the Nova province called to me most.

“Look to the North; you can see the snow capping the mountains of the Luna province. My brother Zephyr is the God of North Wind. He’s most powerful in the winter.”

“And the most good-looking always,” a new voice interrupted behind us.

When I spun I was met with a striking blond man. His hair was short, sleeked back with a circlet like Auster’s over his head. While Auster wore notes of blue, this High Celestial, whom I assumed was Zephyr, wore tones of green that matched his mossy-green irises. As he came to stand with Auster, I saw they matched in height and strong build.

“You didn’t mention you were visiting,” Auster said. If I didn’t know any better I might have said he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“You thought I wouldn’t come greet our maiden the moment she’s back on our lands?” he said, not taking his bright eyes off me.

My body decided it was relaxed around him, which was odd considering my nerves to come here waiting for Auster. Did I know him well in the past? I wanted to ask, but it didn’t feel right with an audience.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Zephyr said, his mouth curving. My sheepish look was answer enough for him. His hand lay over his heart. “Here I had hoped our friendship was strong enough to break through the cracks of your blocked mind. No matter; I’m sure it’ll come to you as one of the firsts.”

“As I was saying,” Auster drawled. “To your left is the Sera Province of my brother Aquilo—he thrives in spring as the God of West Wind. And finally, behind us, the Aura Province of my brother Notus—he favors fall as the God of East Wind.”

Zephyr said, “Though don’t expect a greeting from them. You’re not their favorite person; but don’t worry, the feeling was mutual.”

I slipped a look at him, appreciating his honesty, but no one liked to hear they weren’t thought of fondly—more so when they couldn’t remember a damn thing of what could have caused the hostility. Shit, what did I do? What did they do? I might not be at fault here.

It was odd to realize there were things I could have done in the past to affect me now that I had no recollection of. I couldn’t decide if ignorance was bliss or if I wanted to know so I could direct the same energy back when I inevitably faced them.

Auster steered me back to his lesson after cutting Zephyr with a warning look for the interruptions. “The humans have likely forgotten the feel of our winds as the veil has stopped them from passing through. Before, our magick would expel from our lands from time to time and kept a certain balance throughout the seasons. Now, their winters are too cold, their summers too hot. You see, there is so much to be restored.”

“You expect one person to be responsible for that?” Rose asked, voicing the incredulity I couldn’t.

“Not alone. You have us, of course,” Zephyr said, giving me a small look of assurance.

Auster said, “You’re the people’s hope more than anything. Physically, we’re here to fight for you.”

I didn’t want that. To be excluded from the fighting. Nyte wanted to train my power; he was adamant to awaken it. Auster seemed content to be gentle and take on that role for me. I had to show him I was more than that. I wouldn’t be another trophy in a case.

“I’m going to get my power back,” I said.

“Then let me help you.”

“I’d rather my time here helped me learn about my heritage.”

I didn’t mention I thought Nyte had to be the one to bring out my power. It awakened at his touch, and it often felt like our magick was kin. Opposite sides of the same coin. With Auster, he could teach me the ways of the celestials and all that happened when I was gone.

Auster stopped walking, regarding me with a look of excitement and pride I didn’t know what I’d done to invoke.

“I’m looking forward to having time with you. It brings me the most joy I’ve felt in the vacant centuries you’ve been gone that you want to return to me here. If you say the word, you have the might of all four High Celestials and their houses against the wrath of Nightsdeath, should you want to stay with us. Until then, you must keep it from him, to not risk a war sooner than we’re ready.”

Zephyr interjected with, “Nyte may have quite the bloody reputation but he’s strategic. Always has been. I’ve been trying to tell Auster the most telling him you’re here would do is rile him with jealousy—you would rejoice in that, brother.”

“He’s savage and unpredictable,” Auster snapped.

I grew tense and unwell with how they debated Nyte’s nature and crimes. Conflict wracked me. I didn’t want to believe that Nyte would start the war he was trying to prevent if he found out I was meeting with the celestials. But Auster’s concern was enough to make me doubt. Althenia was thriving and peaceful, like they existed in their own realm. I couldn’t put them in jeopardy if there was even a small chance Nyte could react against them.

“Perhaps I could come here once a week for now,” I offered. That shouldn’t be too hard—eluding Nyte for one day. He seemed to have a lot to occupy himself with regaining control of the vampires, and I would use that to my advantage.

Auster nodded. “Use your key, and I’ll come for you. We’ll always be watching for it.”

This was it—how I would begin to collect the scattered pieces of my history and figure out which were truth and if any were lies?

Rose never looked at me with as much hopefulness as she did now. But I couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in my gut that any path away from Nyte would be favorable to her. Perhaps Zath would agree too, but I didn’t know if I could trust him with this secret when he’d worked for Nyte before.

My happiness about these lands and what I could discover became tangled in a web of lies I had to keep secret for now. Nobody wanted to believe there was good in Nyte, but I did, and I hoped my greatest betrayal wouldn’t come from my own heart.