Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LYRA
Artificial stars glitter in an inky expanse curving down and outward, swallowing the snowy marble floors beneath its cupped embrace.
With my mouth hanging ajar, I wander deeper into the Astral Chamber, a keen sense of wonderment filling me as I marvel at the ethereal blues and sparkling silvers fusing together, bleeding from the sphere like rain bleeds from a stormy sky.
The swirling white floors seem suspended in midair as the innumerable dots glowing all around me cascade from the peak of the walls and disappear beneath the marble at my feet.
Portraits of different moon phases line the space, and at the very center of the room is a circular platform where beams of iridescent light shoot downward, enclosing the platform in a circle.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I marvel with my chin pointed up into the air. “You must truly love the stars to have created such a wonder.”
Casimir steps out of the shadows and closer to me. “Actually, I loathe them quite viscerally.”
I whirl around to face him. “You loathe the stars yet have an entire chamber dedicated to them? A chamber that makes you feel as though you’re floating amongst them, no less.”
“I assure you,” he replies, his flat tone echoing as he steps past me and toward the circular platform encased by beams of light. “This was not my doing.”
I blink at him, entirely confused.
He glances back at me with secrets dancing in his eyes before tugging his chin, beckoning me. “Come along,” he instructs. “We’ll be entering the Veil in here.”
I arch my brow at it. “It looks like some creepy sacrificial altar.”
Casimir huffs a laugh, old smile lines revealing themselves. “It isn’t,” he assures me. “There will be no sacrifices today.”
“Except maybe my dignity,” I mumble under my breath, trudging forward and accepting his hand as he escorts me up the steps, through the light beams, and to the center of the circle.
The platform is elevated and forged from bronze.
Intricate marks branch from the very center, swirling out and around in swirls resembling threads.
There is a bedroll sprawled out in the middle, and directly above it, a small glass case filled with what appears to be swirling colored smoke hangs in place.
I glance at Casimir. “I feel like I’ve entered another world.”
“In some ways,” he begins, holding my gaze, “you have.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I whisper, feeling at once desperate to understand and so exhausted with being kept in the dark. I’m tired of feeling ignorant. Tired of feeling three steps behind, grasping at a rope that is pulled away before I can ever grab onto it.
“You may understand more shortly, depending on what you do with your time in the Veil.” He watches me, seeming to debate something.
“Tomorrow,” he offers, voice softening. “Tomorrow, during our training session, I will finally begin providing you with the answers you seek.” He turns, heading toward the bedroll, where a small golden goblet I didn’t previously notice awaits.
Casimir bends down and plucks it from the ground, putting the stem between his fingers as he cups the simply designed bowl. He motions for me to lie down.
Not wanting to seem subservient, I count to five in my head before doing as he asks.
Then I sit down on the roll, cross my legs, and puff out my cheeks.
When he hands the goblet off to me, I take it cautiously, smelling the liquid inside and swirling it around to note both the consistency and reaction it potentially has with the gold.
The smell is slightly bitter with a woodsy undertone, and the liquid has a reddish hue to it.
“Murmuring Mirage,” I guess, swirling around the drink some more.
“You are correct.”
I hum, a small bit of pride swelling behind my chest. “When my mother would enter the Veil, she always had a close confidant forge her elixir. Naturally, this was because her confidant was a fellow Gardner.” I eye him pointedly.
“Only Gardners have the required knowledge to make the elixir needed to guarantee a safe passage to and from the Veil. Neilina has already told me you do not have Gardners here nor do your people even know what they are, so how is it you know how to make the elixir?”
Casimir chews on his words, seeming to consider how he would like to answer my question. “I have been alive for four centuries,” he begins slowly, clasping his hands behind his back. “Do not underestimate the knowledge one can acquire during such a long lifespan.”
It really never gets less shocking—hearing him say his age.
How. How. How.
Gods I have so many questions. About his declining faith in humanity. What happened to forge him into the tired looking man before me. About his connection to the Abdites. Why they call him Master and serve him with such unabated loyalty.
“It’s time we enter the Veil. Drink.”
I glance back down at the goblet in my hand, chewing on my bottom lip.
There are as many reasons as there are stars in this room regarding why I should absolutely not trust him nor enter the Veil for him.
Reasons that scream at me not to drink the elixir from this goblet.
Yet some small part of myself wants to. I want to discover more about my Veilreading gifts.
I want to know what my mother experienced when she intentionally walked through the Veil.
I want to know what I’m capable of. Just how far my power stretches.
I bring the cool metal to my lips and drink.
A nearly instant rush of warmth floods beneath my skin, heating me from the inside out.
A euphoric buzzing sensation hums within my bones, pressing pleasurable kisses to every inch of my body.
Oddly, it feels similar to a climax, and the blurred line of what my body is feeling while staring at Casimir is too confusing for me to process.
Casimir crouches down and pushes hair from my forehead; I lick my lips.
He laughs silently while feeling my skin with the back of his hand. “Good. It’s working. Which means you need to lie flat on your back.”
My head feels light while my vision undulates like a rolling wave in an uncharted sea. I know my mind is already beginning to feel woozy, but….
Did he just say he wants to put me on my back?
Though I can admit Casimir has an undeniable appeal, being at once mysterious, regal, ungodsly handsome, and eerily magnetic, the thought of me lying down for him draws on a sad song within me.
In my mind’s eye—so vivid and clear I’m convinced I really see it—a gradient of blues and greens crash together, mingling in the heart of a seafoam wave.
Then those colors wrap around a body covered in whorling black marks.
Those marks rise until they kiss a face with shaggy hair like a starless night sky.
I see Draven.
I lurch for him, wanting so badly to press his chest against mine and collapse in his arms. I want to be shielded in his embrace.
To feel like, even just for a moment, I do not need to be brave and strong and unbreakable.
In his arms, I can just be a girl who doesn’t have to brace herself against the harsh realities of this world.
I can just be as I am, no walls, no defenses.
Yet something stops me from reaching him. Two hands gripping me back, holding me in place. “It isn’t real.” It’s Casimir’s voice, coming from directly next to my ear. It is calm and assuring, but…wrong.
It isn’t Draven.
“Lyra,” Casimir says, “you need to lie down.”
Lie down like a good girl.
Lie down and take it.
Lie down and spread your legs.
Suddenly, images from my past emerge like projections in the air around me, voices whispering and shouting as I see a mirage of the past nobles I was forced to entertain while being King Alastair’s prized pet.
In every single image, I am forced to lie down—most times on my stomach, sometimes on my back.
Lie down. Lie down. Lie down.
Fuck I hate those words. I am so through with just lying down. I am not going to lie down; I am going to rise. Higher and further, until everyone is beneath my feet. Until I look down my nose at them. Until it is I who is forcing them to kneel before me. Fuck lying down.
Yet the more determined I become, the more the voices hiss and scream. I attempt to ignore them. To not allow them any space inside my head. But just as Draven said of emotions, the voices demand to be felt.
My breathing hitches in my chest, and the pool of oxygen in my lungs grows shallow. Suddenly, everything around me feels encased by dark outlines, and it presses into me with the force of a hurricane. I can’t breathe. Can’t think. I—
Strong hands cup my face as two thumbs rub soothing arcs across my cheeks. “Breathe,” the calm voice says. “Breathe and look at the lights.”
I listen, drawing in steady breaths as I lose myself in the shimmering, iridescent lights circling around me.
The visuals that were pelting me melt away, leaving space for the new ones to take shape.
Stars soar through the beams like a coursing river.
A kaleidoscope of glimmering petals sweep along an invisible wind, passing from light to light.
I see a stark white wolf chasing a black, unruly one. It is mesmerizing.
Someone tips me back. My head falls to rest in a warm lap. Strong hands hold onto me, bracketing my shoulders.