Chapter 36
The higher we ascended, the more it felt like we were leaving the world behind, climbing toward some forbidden realm.
Blake clutched my hand, his other deep in Kingsolver’s thick ruff. I half expected us to crash into the heavens themselves. Wind whipped through my hair, and the vastness of the sky closed in around us, blurring the line between mortal and divine.
Flame’s presence hummed at the back of my mind, steady and warm, a flicker of reassurance in the storm of my thoughts. She was with me, always. So were Edith, Nelly, and Thyme; here in my heart, their voices were echoes of the life I was fighting to protect.
I thought of Yvonne, discarded by a world that deemed her unworthy, and little Poppy, so small and powerful. I thought of the Thirst demons that had nearly taken them, their hunger an abyss that would swallow us all if given the chance.
I didn’t know why I had been chosen. But I had been. And that meant they were all my responsibility now.
I wanted that boon. I wanted my memories more than anything. But the past weeks had shown me why I should do this. The lives we were preserving. The beauty our world had to offer.
Uncertainty in my own abilities clawed at me, my inability to control my magic, whispering doubts, spinning nightmares of what lay ahead.
I tightened my fingers into fists, Blake’s hand still gripped in mine like an anchor. No matter what came next, I would not break.
Then, with a gentle shudder, we came to a stop.
The landscape before us was something out of a dream.
A vast platform suspended in midair glowed faintly with otherworldly energy while clouds swirled beneath us like a sea.
We were perched far above the world, on the very edge of the lesser gods’ Immortal Realm, where our worthy ancestors also dwelled.
The great gods like Kuan Yin, Guan Yu, and Nuwa dwelled in the Heavenly Realm, the upper part of the Kingdom of Sky.
Slowly we all stepped off the lotus and onto the solid platform.
“Welcome to the Haven of the Gods,” the Diviner intoned.
I wondered what sort of accommodations the gods had prepared for us. What did divine creatures know of earthly comforts?
“Here you shall rest. Tomorrow you shall meet the other dominions before you begin your quest.”
The Diviner waved her hand with a graceful motion, and doorways shimmered into existence, tall and imposing, formed from lacquered wood as dark as gleaming ink. Intricate carvings spiraled up the sides, depicting scenes of battle and ancient magic, their details so fine they almost seemed to move.
To the right of the doorways, an arched gate opened for the tygers, wide and curved like the crescent of a rising moon. Through the archway, I glimpsed a vast garden that stretched almost beyond sight. Flowers bloomed along quiet paths. It looked like tyger stables lined the far end.
Flame hesitated for a moment, then turned her great head to give me a long, searching look before Kingsolver’s massive bulk pressed to her side and pushed her along, almost playfully. She batted at him, but followed him through the gate nonetheless.
—
The doors for us were set within frames of carved stone, the surface of which was embedded with faintly glowing runes that pulsed softly, as if alive.
Above each doorway hung a silk-paneled lantern, casting a pale glow that highlighted the runes’ delicate patterns.
The air around the doorways crackled faintly, a low hum of magic vibrating through the space.
Though identical in design, each felt different.
“Choose your room,” the Diviner commanded.
We all moved, drawn slowly to different doors. Blake gave my hand a comforting squeeze before he moved away.
I took a deep breath, then opened one of the doors, stepping inside.
I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching.
There was a tree in the center of the space, its trunk and branches made of gleaming silver stretching upward, spreading out in a canopy of mirrorlike leaves that glittered with a soft, magical glow.
It seemed to grow out of the floor, its roots curling into the dark stone like veins of light, pulsing gently.
Beneath the tree of mirrors, the bed sat low to the ground, its frame made of dark mahogany that gleamed in the light.
To the side, a small matching writing desk stood near the wall, its surface inlaid with delicate golden filigree that curled and twisted like fire.
A plush chair with silk upholstery in deep blue sat in front of it.
A sitting area had been arranged near the foot of the bed, where a low table made of etched glass and hammered gold mirrored the elegance of the room. Two deep-cushioned chairs flanked the table, upholstered in a soft, pale blue fabric that shimmered under the magical light from above.
These weren’t just powerful lords or nobles hosting me. They were the gods themselves, even if they were only the minor gods. And this room with the mirror tree was clearly meant for me.
Had they known which door I would pick, or had the room transformed into mine the moment I opened the door?
I wondered briefly about Blake’s room. Would it match the cold sterililty of the Twin Blade of the Silver Tyger Dominion, or would it reflect the man beneath?
Would his room be messy?
Stretching, I spun around happily before crashing back flat on the bed with a laugh.
The sheets were a dark indigo, with a luxurious quilt draped over it in rich hues of sapphire, embroidered with intricate silver patterns.
Pillows of varying sizes were scattered across the bed, each one soft and inviting.
I thought of Blake, the cedar smell of him, his broad shoulders and muscled torso. I wished he were in my bed with me.
In the soft glow of the tree, I tilted my head up, staring at the canopy of glimmering, mirrored leaves above me.
The tree itself was huge, its silver bark etched with swirling patterns.
It gave off the sense that it had been there long before I arrived, waiting for me.
Each of the leaves caught the light in a different way, glittering like starlight against the darker corners of the room.
They swayed gently, though there was no wind. I stared, entranced, as they shone.
It was the mirrors in the leaves that drew me in. I pushed up on my elbows, looking more closely.
For a fleeting second, I caught a glimpse of Edith, her face lined with worry as she sat by the fire. She seemed so burdened. Why had I never seen the weight of all that she carried before?
Another set of leaves rustled, showing a beautiful garden, then a hummingbird. My heart ached at the sight. This felt like a place from my past, but I had no thread of memory to follow.
The canopy shifted and swayed, as if an invisible wind caressed the leaves.
Memories flickered in and out of sight. Each time I looked up, another memory flashed into view.
Rainbow, our chicken. And then Couscous, sitting by the well with her paws tucked underneath her white tummy.
My beloved Flame, coat shifting with copper, gold, and black like a living fire.
Then another shimmer of leaves. It was the woman from my recurring dream. Somehow, I knew who she was.
My mother.
I froze, a breath puffing out in surprise.
She was a blur, out of focus, but I could feel her presence, gentle and soft. I had the impression of kindness but also power, so much power. I was a child and she was holding me, whispering something into my ear. I wondered if she was singing. An abundance of love.
I reached out to the leaf, wanting to see more, but she was gone. Again. My body tightened, a sob caught in my throat.
Another memory flashed.
Screaming faces, a mass of bodies surging in every direction. The vision swirled with chaos and panic, people pushing and shoving, desperate to escape.
This must have been the Annihilation. Everyone was fleeing.
Except for me.
While the crowd fled in terror, I must have been moving against them, fighting to go back. People gripped my arms, their hands locked around me, trying to pull me away. I saw my own hands clawing at them, tearing at their skin, desperate to break free.
I wasn’t trying to get away. I was trying to reach something. Someone.
I closed my eyes, a tear slipping free. Catching glimpses of a past I couldn’t understand was almost worse than total ignorance.
I stood, pressing off the bed and heading straight for the door, desperate not to be alone.
—
The air changed the moment I crossed the threshold, softer and warmer.
The gods had given us a world untouched by war.
Lush gardens spread out in every direction, with lanterns glowing softly along winding paths.
Trees arched overhead, their leaves pale green and gold, stirring in a breeze that smelled like sweetgrass and blossoms.
I looked back to see I had exited a castle, built from dark wood and gold-tiled roofs. Ahead were open training grounds, bordered by flowering trees, and the majestic tyger stables.
But I couldn’t appreciate the beauty. I needed Flame.
Inside the divine stables, the floors were polished stone. Each stall was lined with woven reed mats and silk cushions, and had a carved stone basin filled with running spring water and slices of meat. And each was large enough to house a tyger king. I didn’t stop until I reached Flame’s.
She was curled up—alone this time, though I did notice that Kingsolver was lying in the stall next to her.
I took the brush off the hook and began to groom her.
You’re so sad.
She hadn’t opened her eyes, sensing my confusion and heartache through our Bond.
The gods are taunting me, I said, my hands stilling. It was meant to be a sarcastic comment, but it was all broken in my head. They show me pieces of my past, and I…I don’t know what any of it means. I feel weak and afraid.
Do you know why tygers Bond to certain humans?
I shook my head without speaking.
Power. We are by far the most magical animals in the Mortal Realm.
We carry more power than any other and we are drawn to it in turn.
We live in the Dominion of the Silver Tyger, for we descend from their Celestial Guardian, but in truth, tygers do not care what color your hair is.
We seek only the strength that resonates with our own, something that can balance us and challenge us. Our humans steady us.
I brushed the ruff of her chest with wide strokes. I guess everything is about balance.
Flame lowered her head so that her golden eyes fixed on me, unblinking.
Yes, Rubi. We complete our humans as well.
And you are the first chosen by the most powerful of all the tygers, their queen, to be Bonded.
Do you truly think that means you are powerless?
No one before you has ever been worthy. Yet I chose you. Do not call yourself weak.
I sighed. I just wish I could remember. If only I could win the boon—
Rubi, Flame said, her voice intense. Her tail swept once across the floor, slow and deliberate, before she spoke. If danger comes, you must not sacrifice yourself. Your memories may return without the boon. Your life is precious.
But I—
Say it, she growled.
My voice trembled even within the confines of my mind. My life is precious.
“I found you,” a voice said, the hint of a smile bleeding into the words.
Still tremulous, I turned to look up at Blake’s large form leaning in the doorway of Flame’s stall.
“You always do,” I murmured, before standing and dusting off my pants. “What are you doing here?”
He turned his chin over his shoulder. “Kingsolver asked me to come.”
I told him to get his rider here already. Flame huffed. Sometimes you humans just need your own kind.
Thank you, my dear friend.
I stepped close, drawn by his solidity, how present and real he was, not a figment in a mirror—here and then gone. Then, before I could stop myself, I flung myself into his arms.
“Hey, songbird.” He rested his chin atop my head and stroked my hair. I marveled at how I fit, the safety I felt.
His arms tightened around me, just enough to feel his strength, his presence, unmoving and steady.
My body started to shake. The kind of trembling that came when everything caught up to you.
When you realized how close it had all come to breaking.
I buried my face in his chest and tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t stay in my lungs.
My hands clutched at the back of his shirt like I needed to anchor myself to him, or I’d vanish.
“I’m sorry,” I said, though I didn’t know what for. Maybe for needing this. Maybe for not being able to hold it in. My voice came out broken, too high and too thin. “I didn’t mean to—I just—”
“Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t apologize.”
He lowered us both to the floor. Leaning against the wall, he pulled me into his arms. I was still trembling. He just kept holding me, his hands sliding up and down my back, slow and firm. My heart skipped and stumbled, my throat clenched tight. I hated how close I was to sobbing.
He breathed against my hair. “Rubi,” he said, “you don’t have to be so strong all the time. Whatever it is, I’m here now. With you.”
“Can we go to my rooms?” I whispered. “I…I need to show you something.”
Blake nodded, gripping me tighter, then pressing a kiss, light as a feather, to my lips, my cheek, and then a lingering one to my temple, his hand wrapped in the blue-green strands of my hair.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, songbird,” he whispered low under his breath.