Chapter 8
NETHERSHADE
Gavrel
“Maya, I … I felt our—” Scorching pain sliced through every nerve. I doubled over, bracing myself against the tops of my thighs. Bloody void. This fucking rune needs to go. “She’s … I think Seryn’s here.”
Maya frowned, worry creasing her brow. But she didn’t ask what was ailing me. Likely, the thought of her daughter being in this place held her attention.
“Lil’ Nightshade came for a visit, then. The pieces falling into place, eh?” Therrok said blandly.
Maya glared at him, but he looked unbothered as he shrugged and squeezed her shoulder.
Maya closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in and out steadily. “Secure the Elder. Then you and Thesa scout for my daughter where we found him.” She nudged her chin toward me.
“I’m coming, too,” I said, moving toward the vryka.
The faintest sound of something between approval and annoyance fled him before he stepped back through some sort of illusion, ignoring me. The shimmery haze of its veil slipped over his bulk and sealed immediately behind him.
I scrubbed my hand down my face, my stubble rough against my skin. I was tired of this place. Its tricks and shadows.
“Maya. I need to find her.”
“And we will,” she replied, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Therrok and Thesa are my best, and you won’t get far in the condition you’re in.”
I shook my head.
Her words were quiet, but firm. “Enough, Gavrel.” Her hand dropped. “I’ve survived this realm for far too long. She’s my daughter. Trust what I say. We will find her. But first, you need to rest. You’re no good to anyone if you’re dead on your feet.”
I clamped my lips together, trying to do as she said. Fighting every urge within me that wanted to run into the gloom to find what was mine.
Fuck.
I hoped our bond was wrong. That Seryn hadn’t found her way here. That she hadn’t been stubborn and followed me into this nightmare realm.
But I knew she had.
Of course, the bloody woman had.
Fingers flexing and chin dipping, I studied the image before us of a dense thicket, nearly six feet tall with twisted roots and leaves as dark as midnight itself.
Glossy berries hung like polished black pearls, clustered among delicate, semi-translucent black flowers—ghostly bells ringing a silent death toll.
Neon-purple veins trailed over each fragile petal.
They were the most breathtaking flowers I’d ever seen.
Leaning closer, I watched as the blossoms trembled, and a prismatic iridescence shimmered and pulsed through the glowing veins, as if the bell-shaped flowers breathed in color itself.
Sucked in life itself.
Its aura reminded me of Seryn’s.
“Nethershade.” Maya touched the back of my arm and guided me through the embered illusion. The threshold shivered as we crossed it, a cool breeze sweeping over me like a sudden intake of breath.
“We bartered for the enchantment turns ago. It keeps wanderers far from our den. No one in their right mind would dare touch the nightshade down here. It’s far more poisonous than the mortal realm’s version.
Excruciating pain. Vivid hallucinations.
By the end, the poisoned beg for the aether to take them. ”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Wouldn’t recommend.”
We stood outside a carved cave entrance, the veil already back in place behind us.
“Sounds fitting.”
She raised a delicately arched eyebrow.
I sighed as the last of the void umbra’s grip faded from me. “Nightshade protecting a Nightshade.”
“Always.”
Her words called Seryn to my mind again. I braced my mouth against a wry smile, and warmth spread over my chest.
A soft laugh spilled from her as she gave my wrist a gentle pat before slipping into the darkness like she belonged there.
And I was certain she did.
The Hespira’s den was carved deep into the earth and stone. Maya guided us through winding tunnels; their gloom lit by countless smoldering motes suspended overhead. They flickered, forever on the verge of igniting, gathered from the cinders that drifted endlessly throughout the realm.
“I was lucky to find these caves long ago. Trying to survive in the forest or elsewhere in the Void is nearly impossible on your own,” Maya explained, leading us into an enormous cavern with haphazardly strewn, mismatched pillows and low-top tables.
At least fifty of her crew milled about. Both whispers and lively debates filled the space. A fire burned in the center, warming the room and casting the shadows further into the corners. Passages were scattered along the walls, darkness obscuring them.
Maya waved her hand in a wide arc. “This is our main chamber.” Various sets of eyes glanced our way before focusing on what they were doing, suspicion clogging the air.
“Melina has been secured in one of the prison chambers. She’ll be lucky if there isn’t a threat to her life.
She doesn’t have any supporters among us. ”
“I should think not.”
Maya’s eyebrows lifted. “Not everyone here was her victim.”
“But if they’re part of your movement, they’re against Phobetor … and, in turn, the current Elders.”
“You always picked up the nuances, Gavrel. Saw everything. Even when no one thought you were looking.” Maya patted me on the shoulder and gave me a soft smile. “Hestia would be proud.”
I gripped my baldric and coughed awkwardly.
“This way,” she said, taking mercy on me. Maya moved forward, acknowledging those she passed with warm words. Everyone was drawn to her. Respected her. I wondered what she’d been through.
The corners of my mouth quirked. Like her mother. And her daughter. The Nightshade women were not to be trifled with.
We veered down various passageways, and I let my thoughts drift. Let everything that happened in the last days settle within me. Reliving each second like grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
And every moment led to one thing.
One person.
Seryn.
I needed to find her. Needed her with me like my next heartbeat.
In agreement, the organ within my chest flipped.
If anything happened to her. I would fucking destroy this realm until all that was left was me—a single, brutal nightmare terrorizing anyone or anything that got in my way.
Maya paused at the entrance of another passage, curiosity and knowing sweeping over her features. “You can take the chamber at the end of this tunnel.”
I thanked her, turning into the opening. My steps hesitated when she added, “Get some rest. We’ll find her.”
“There’s no other choice,” I agreed.
“You know … with Morpheus freed, so is dreaming. Thank you.”
“For what? Seryn is the one who freed him.”
“And you watched over her all these turns. Gave her the space to find herself. Loved her. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”
Words eluded me, and my neck warmed. I dipped my chin and rubbed my lips together.
Maya grinned and looked at the ceiling before tapping the wall. Her mouth opened as if she had more to say, but instead she turned and went back the way we’d arrived.
Without thinking, I shuffled to the pile of pillows and blankets in the corner, weariness pulling at my bones as I set aside my broadsword and sank onto the makeshift bed.
Memories had often been something I feared or regretted. Yet, as reveries of my khorda toppled through my mind like a shower of beautiful paintings from Surrelia, I held tight, relieved and grateful to have them.
My last thought before I fell headfirst into a dream was …
Stay alive.