Chapter 9
Von
T he aroma of various herbs and potions, accompanied by an overpowering brine, infiltrated my nostrils as I walked into the infirmary, located in my castle’s northwest tower.
Almost all the beds were filled with freshly departed souls, some still wet from being pulled out of the Da’Nu.
Those were the ones who mourned uncontrollably, while the others who had been here longer, who’d had more time to process that they were, in fact, dead, sat in their beds, sipping a cup of tea or eating a bowl of soup.
Soultenders, healers tasked with caring for the souls as they transitioned from their mortal lives into their eternal ones, bustled back and forth, moving from bed to bed.
Their dark robes dusted the glass floors as they walked, their shoes crunching the salty remnants that had yet to be swept up.
Despite being a river, the Da’Nu had high levels of sodium chloride, so naturally, those who came out of it were covered in it.
Salt. I seemed to be surrounded by it lately. If it wasn’t because of Ezra and her concoctions, it was because of the river and the souls pulled from it.
Down the middle of the lengthy room, there was a long string of tables that housed various-sized glass containers, chock-full of numerous herbs, spices, and medicinal mixtures.
A hand-carved wooden spoon was placed in each one.
Reactive metals like aluminum and copper were not to touch the ingredients, because not only did it alter the taste, it could neutralize the healing properties.
Standing at one of the tables was the Goddess of Companionship. Her hands, etched in intricate white flames, gestured as she spoke to one of the soultenders.
The cloaked woman nodded, before she reached down and picked up a small jar from the table. She handed it to Zahra, clasping her hand warmly.
“Thank you,” Zahra said to her.
“Of course, goddess,” the soultender answered, her voice young and airy.
She turned to me, my gaze mapping the discolored skin on her face—a pitted landscape full of scar tissue, her top lip and the tip of her nose chewed away.
To anyone else, they would see a normal girl, but I saw the truth of how she’d died.
“My king,” she said to me, bowing in respect before she made her way over to the bedside of a slumbering man.
I nodded in reply, then turned to Zahra. “How is she today?” I asked, my eyes meeting hers.
The whites of her eyes were bloodshot, the flames in them dimmer than normal. That told me all I needed to know.
“Not good,” Zahra breathed, those two words full of worry. We began to walk toward a corridor, leading to the private rooms. “She refuses sleep, food. Not even the comforts of being reunited with her parents or those before them bring her solace.”
My brows furrowed. “Transitioning can take time,” I reminded her.
Zahra’s voice grew quiet. “And if she doesn’t? Then what will you do?”
“Zahra,” I sighed. “I can’t think of that right now.” And truly, I couldn’t. I couldn’t think of losing another person I cared about, not right now.
She let out a breath. “Apologies. I know you are hurting deeply, despite your hardened exterior.”
“It’s alright,” I stated, offering no more.
We walked the remainder of the way in silence, listening to the bloodcurdling cry, followed by bouts of sobbing coming from the closed door we approached. I opened it, allowing Zahra to enter first.
The small, private room consisted of a bed, a few chairs, and a tiny kitchen area.
Lit sconces lined the walls, bathing the room in cool, blue light.
Kaleb, who was seated in one of the chairs, jerked his head up, his weary eyes meeting mine.
His hand was linked with the woman’s who was lying on the bed—
Harper.
A lump formed in my throat as I walked over to her side. It had been a few days since I saw her last, and she looked just as tormented as she had then. Her skin was pebbled with sweat, her hair matted in clumps, the skin sunken under her eyes.
“Von,” she sobbed, her hand slipping from Kaleb’s.
“I’m here,” I said as I walked toward her bedside while Zahra made her way to the small kitchen space. I sat down, the bed groaning under my weight, and I took Harper in my arms, wrapping her tightly in my embrace.
“I need to go back to the Living Realm. Lyra and Ryker—” Her voice cracked. “They need me.” Desperately, her fingers clenched my tunic, and she buried her face into my chest. Another sob wrenched its way out of her.
Zahra, who was heating a teapot with the caress of her flame, glanced at me—her worry ever present.
I let out an exhale, then said to Harper as my hand rubbed her back, “You will be reunited with them again, but you need to complete the transition first.”
“I cannot accept this is my fate. I will not accept it. Lyra needs my protection.”
“She has Ryker and Graiyson,” I softly reminded her.
“I will check on her for you,” Kaleb added. “I will check on them all.”
I looked at him over the top of Harper’s head, silently thanking him.
He just barely acknowledged my gratitude, the nod of his head mechanical.
I understood.
Losing Sage had broken us both .
“Harper, dear, do you think you could try to drink some of this?” Zahra asked as she held a cup and saucer in front of Harper. “It will help.”
Slowly, Harper lifted her head, her hands unweaving from my tunic as she considered Zahra’s offer.
It was easy to tell they were related. The two shared a great deal of similarities, from their appearances to their personalities. The five-times-great apple had not fallen far from the tree.
Harper’s eyes flashed black, a look of pure hatred and disgust twisting her face into something demonic.
She shoved the cup off the saucer and it fell to the floor, the cup shattering upon impact, the herbal drink puddling around the broken remnants.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Harper snarled, her voice no longer hers.
“I do not want anything you have to offer! You think to trick me with your fake smile, but I know what you are trying to do.” Her head turned to mine, her expression murderous.
“You are all trying to trap me here. That’s the reason you won’t let Sage see me, isn’t it?
” She shoved against my chest. “Isn’t it! ”
Worry wrapped like bars around my chest, constricting my breath, but I kept my voice calm as I said, “Harper—”
“No!” she roared. Her attention snapped to the door. “Sage! Sage! I’m here! They are keeping me in here!”
Swiftly, Kaleb reached across the bed and grabbed Harper’s hand. Like a fire wicked out of oxygen, she immediately stopped shouting.
I didn’t know if it was Kaleb’s connection to Sage or what, but he seemed to help Harper battle her demons. When he wasn’t near, she became worse. So now, he spent a lot of time in this room, just looking after her. Because that’s the type of person he was.
The blackness fled from Harper’s eyes and her expression softened. She looked from me to Zahra. “Zahra . . . Von . . . I . . . I’m so sorry.” She looked down at the bed, the cloth shredded. “What is happening to me?”
“You are just transitioning.” I held her gaze. “And you are going to be okay.”
But for the first time since I’d retrieved Harper’s soul from the Da’Nu, after she had died from her injuries she had received during the battle that took place in the Cursed Lands, I wasn’t so sure.
Seconds ago, when I saw the color fade from her eyes, replaced by a blackness that rivaled my own, heard her voice change into something that sounded nothing like hers, I knew that time was running out for her.
Which meant I needed to act swiftly.
Bits of flame rained down from the red sky, scorching the rocky, barren ground.
Not even weeds survived in these desolate wastelands, forged from eroded slopes and jagged, looming mountains.
The acrid scent of rotting flesh hung so thick it was like a dense fog coating the air.
It was a sure sign I had entered the land of nightmares and horrors—
The Eighth Tier.
I had made it to house the most depraved and maniacal of souls—the sick and twisted who would have taken pleasure in being eternally burned in the level above. It housed a myriad of sinister, bloodthirsty monsters.
Come to think of it, it would have made a great home for Saphira.
Shadows swirled beside me, producing one angry-looking immortal.
“What are you doing here?” Zahra whisper-yelled at me, her eyes darting from side to side.
“I could ask the same of you,” I replied, my boot crunching a petrified bone in half as I strode forward.
“I’m here to make sure the monsters of this place don’t spit-roast you alive,” she hissed, her long legs doing their best to keep up with mine.
“We all have to eat,” I quipped flatly.
She didn’t look impressed.
Another swirl of black marred the air to my left. Dameon stepped out from it.
“I had no choice in the matter,” he said with a sigh.
I understood. Mated males were territorial creatures, and we all had that same unrelenting need to protect our females—which was one of the two reasons why I was here.
“It’s fine,” I sighed as we continued ahead.
Zahra sidestepped a luminescent, bubbling puddle.
A rotting hand, full of maggots, shot out from it, reaching for her ankle.
Before it could grab hold, Dameon’s flame sword found purchase, slicing it clean off.
The creature let out a high-pitched, garbled scream as it pulled its bleeding nub under the surface.
The severed hand bounced against the ground, flopping around like a fish out of water as purple blood poured out of the end.
“Are you alright?” Dameon asked, moving to her side.
“I am,” Zahra reassured him.
“Waaaaait!” cried out a strange voice from a chasm not far from us.
A leg slung out of the deep fissure, tossed up on the side.
Then, an arm, then, another. Another leg.
Lastly, a head emerged. It had the eyes and mouth of a mortal but the nose and ears of a rabbit.
The naked creature bunny-hopped toward us—aggressively sized cock and balls unceremoniously on full, bouncing display.
I quirked a curious brow—how didn’t the creature get ground rash?
Dameon flung his hand to the side, his flame sword at the ready.
The man-rabbit stopped, covered his face, and hissed, “It’s too bright! Too bright! My vision givers! My vision givers!”
I looked at Dameon, pressing my hand downwards.
He gave me an I-better-not-regret-this look before he dissolved his sword.
“Speak your purpose, creature,” I said, my voice firm.
He lowered his hands and slowly began to approach me. “I only want to eat it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a little nibble here. Just a little nibble there.”
“Eat what?” Zahra asked.
The creature pointed to the twitching hand.
“I’m going to be sick,” she said, covering her mouth .
The man-rabbit rattled out a laugh. “Silly goddess. Have you never tasted such a delicacy before? The maggots make the Puddle Dweller hands so juicy !” He threw his hands into the air, emphasizing the final word.
“That’ll do it,” Zahra gagged, and she turned away.
The creature held up his grimy little fingers, wiggling them in anticipation. When he went to dive on the hand, I brought my combat boot down on it.
“No, no, no,” the creature cried out as he tried to pry the hand from underneath my boot. “You’re squishing it! You’re squishing it!”
I bent forward, an empty grin twisting my lips. “How would you like to make a deal?”