Chapter 38 Afterlife
AFTERLIFE
RAE
Warmth surrounded me, the scent of honey-vanilla and cinnamon soothing the ache inside of me.
“Rae?”
I opened my eyes to find Zeke looking down on me, propped on one elbow. Ash mirrored him on my right, sandwiching me between them on my bed.
Ash brushed a few strands of hair from my forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Drained. What happened?”
“You fainted,” Ash said. “I saw him, but he fled when he recognized me.” No matter how he tried to hide it, he couldn’t mask the contempt in his voice. “I wanted to chase after him, but I couldn’t leave you.”
His words should have comforted me, but they didn’t.
I curled onto my side, facing Zeke. I studied the black band on his finger instead of meeting his eyes.
Zeke cupped my chin and lifted my face when I sniffled. “What’s the matter?”
“Please don’t ask me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t wanna lie to you,” I whispered, looking away.
Ash wound his heavy arm around my waist and cradled me against him. He tucked his face into my hair. “Why won’t you tell him? Let us help you.”
My heart thrashed in my chest as the grief from earlier roared back to the surface. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep it contained.
“Don’t cry,” Zeke said, cupping my cheek. “Please don’t cry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, but liquid emotion overflowed without my permission. “I can’t do this,” I said, wiggling to break away from them.
Ash tightened his hold, sliding his other arm beneath me to cage me against his chest.
Zeke ran his soft fingertips over the trail of tears, his own eyes shining as he whispered, “I won’t put you to sleep.” He swallowed. “Let me help you like you helped me. Talk to me.”
Ash loosened his hold a fraction when I tried to move. “I’ll let you go if I have to, but I’d rather you stay.”
“Why do either of you care?” I turned into Ash’s arm, drinking in the scent of his skin.
Ash and Zeke answered at the same time. “Why wouldn’t we care?” “Of course I care.”
I twisted to peer up at Ash’s face. “Ever since we slept together, you’ve ditched me. I thought we…” My anger rose when my voice cracked. “I know we can’t be anything, and I accept that, but you didn’t have to abandon me.”
His lips parted.
Ignoring him, I turned to Zeke. “And you—ever since I told you about Cyn and me, you’ve…” My voice softened, and I struggled to form my next words. “You were the one who felt most like a friend… but something else. You kept me laughing when I lost the only thing I had left in this world.”
I crossed both arms over my eyes and took a slow inhale to steady myself.
Exhaling, I said, “I shouldn’t have given in to Cyn.
I shouldn’t have allowed myself to feel with Ash.
I shouldn’t wanna—” I clenched my fists, knowing exactly what my family would say about it—what they’d call me. “No wonder you both pulled away.”
When Ash grabbed one arm and Zeke took the other, pinning my hands above my head, I gasped.
“Are you done?” Ash narrowed his eyes.
I looked between them.
Fire flared in Ash’s eyes, while sadness weighed down Zeke’s stare.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Don’t ever say that again,” Ash said, tightening his grip on mine.
“What part?”
“That you shouldn’t have allowed yourself to feel with me.
Don’t tarnish something so beautiful. I wouldn’t take it back.
Even with everything we can’t have.” He released my hand, and Zeke followed suit.
Ash trailed his fingers down my arm and over my cheek, voice dropping to a whisper as he repeated, “I wouldn’t take it back. ”
I swallowed hard, but it did little to ease the tightness in my throat. I averted my gaze. “It doesn’t matter. You’re leaving anyway. Maybe it’s easier this way.”
“And this is why I pulled away.” He sat back. “You’re not the only one hurt by this. It kills me to leave you, but I can’t abandon my duty. I thought I was making it easier on us both, but I’ve been miserable. And I guess I wasn’t the only one.”
I snorted without humor, sitting up. “Yeah, you can say that again.”
“It won’t happen again. As long as I’m here.”
I knew, deep in my heart, that was the best he could offer. Demanding anything more would be selfish. While the intense feelings confused me, it wasn’t as if I were in love with him. I couldn’t love anyone. Not the way I should. A lifetime of avoiding reality came at a price.
I looked at Zeke. His silence during the entire conversation was unlike him.
As if he’d been waiting for my acknowledgment, he sat up and pulled me into his arms, clutching me to his chest. “I’m still here.” He stroked my hair. “I’m here. I’m so sorry, Rae.”
I wrapped my arms around his lean waist and breathed in his honey-vanilla scent.
“I didn’t know,” he mumbled against the top of my head. “I’m so stupid.”
I lifted my head to look at him. “What?”
He looked uncomfortable, rubbing his earring between his fingers.
“Whenever I’m upset, I cope in different ways, and I don’t always realize the impact on people around me.
” He stared at his hand in mine as I pulled it down into my lap.
“I told you about the cleaning, but sometimes I retreat into my own head if it gets bad enough. I also spend a lot of time outside because I like the sun.”
“You have sun in Elyrdin?” I put my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Not like Earth’s sun. The infernal plane has its own sun, two moons, and stars. I’ve always imagined they’re other planes we can’t access.”
Ash reached out and touched Zeke’s forearm. “Finish telling her what you were saying before. We’ll tell her more about Elyrdin another time.”
Zeke bobbed his head twice. “Yeah. Sorry.” He cleared his throat.
“I’ve been upset, but it wasn’t because of what happened with you and Cyn.
I… don’t have a problem with that at all.
Promise. I told you I didn’t, and I said I wouldn’t lie to you.
” He squeezed my hand. “My wings,” he whispered, voice breaking as his eyes teared up.
“Losing a piece of myself hurt more than I thought it would.”
“Because out of all of us, you use them for enjoyment and not duty,” Ash said, glancing down with a somber expression.
Zeke nodded. “I loved flying up into the trees and hiding out in the canopy where no one could find me.”
“And I took that away from you,” I whispered.
“No!”
I flinched when he put both hands on my cheeks.
“No. You took nothing from me. It was an accident. Not your fault. Kalthea requires a sacrifice, and it saw fit to take our wings.” His gaze slid to the side when he murmured, “If I could stay, I’d sacrifice them willingly.”
“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. He hadn’t told me that part.
“It’s not important.”
“Who is Kalthea? Why did they want your wings?”
Ash nodded when Zeke looked to him for help.
Zeke pulled me into his arms, legs bracketing me as his arms looped around my waist. He propped his chin on my shoulder.
Ash sat up, leaning on the headboard. “Kalthea isn’t a who, but a what. It’s the soul slipstream between Niemna and your world. To cross from our plane to yours, we either need a tiisra stone to cross with magic the slipstream can feed on, or we offer a sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?”
He nodded. “The only other way is through a rift torn in the veil, which weakens the barrier between our planes. If it ever comes down, infernals would pour into your world and devour everything. Classic apocalypse stuff.”
The idea of the things I’d seen throughout my life invading the planet, destroying everything, sounded worse than what they taught in church. If they only knew how bad it could be.
“How big is Niemna or Elyrdin? You said humans go to Elyrdin when they die. Do our souls just float around? What about our memories?” I took a breath, bracing myself to ask the thing I wanted to know most. “When I die, will I get to see you again if I come to Elyrdin?”
Their eyes met in a silent exchange, and a sudden dread filled me, leaving a hollowness in my stomach.
“No, you won’t ever see us again once we leave Earth,” Ash said, reaching for my hand and stroking the top with his thumb. “Niemna is vast, while Elyrdin is the size of a small state in this country.” He let out a quiet huff. “Remember how I said Kalthea is a soul slipstream?”
I nodded, and Zeke squeezed me.
“When humans die, their souls enter Kalthea, and their energy is used to sustain Elyrdin.”
“Sustain?”
“Yeah,” Zeke said next to my ear. “Our ‘electricity’ is soul power. Without human souls, we’d lose our home and be forced into the wastelands.”
The thought that humanity’s purpose was merely to fuel another world left a bitter taste in my mouth. Death promised nothing better, despite what my extended family wanted me to believe.
The question of what happened after death had always haunted me. I couldn’t accept hellfire and pearly gates, but a small flame of hope still insisted something waited for me after I died.
My stomach tightened when I realized the slipstream had reduced Grandma to the light in someone’s bedroom.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I mumbled, turning my face to press against Zeke’s chest.
He stroked my hair. “I don’t know if it helps, but once a human dies, souls that go to Kalthea don’t suffer or feel pain. It’s similar to when a body returns to the soil to fuel the next life.”
“He’s right,” Ash said. “It’s not like we use a soul every time we need power. Kalthea recycles the energy of souls at peace in a constant cycle. Within Kalthea, the souls are safe.”
I glanced at him, keeping my head against Zeke’s chest. “Safe? From what?”
“Infernals capable of devouring them.” His hand slid over my shin.
“It’s why we protect the human plane. Without our intervention, lesser infernals would devour humans and steal their souls before Kalthea can call them home.
Most times the suffering is brief. At least with most infernals.
Some soul reapers will capture a soul and force it into ages of agony. We stop that.”