Chapter 19
DEMI-DAUGHTER
Seryn
We set off in the dead of night, when the pale cyan sky glowed brightest.
We’d made our way over the Gloaming Weald’s plateau, and my calves burned from the steep paths we’d traversed. Mama was in no mood to deal with the forest’s umbras or the Mourning Pass.
I agreed. Today would be challenging enough.
Finally, our feet planted on flat banestone, leaving the Weald behind us.
I craned my neck, taking in the dark moon and stars, their violet edges flickering in the light cradling them.
Outside this realm, the stars winked cheerfully, giddy to be beheld.
Here, they were black voids pierced into the aether’s fabric, ready to swallow anyone who dared look too long.
I sighed as we skirted the cliffs and plateaus, making our way down, down, down.
Fortune smiled upon us; we navigated the craggy, flame-ridden landscape without incident, each lost to their own thoughts.
Even Breena was quiet, gnawing the inside of her cheek, caught in whatever reveries had claimed her.
Thesa walked beside my mother, shoulders and wings taut, ready to take flight. Pip napped in a pocket of the vryka’s leather vest. Her brother trailed behind Breena and me, his boots thumping rhythmically. Galeyn led, her movements graceful and languid, as if she were already swimming.
After countless footsteps, the blackened sun nudged its way into the sky, slipping dusky apricot light across the horizon, where a sliver of ruddy ocean finally rippled into view.
“Not long now,” Galeyn announced, her hair whipping behind her. “The others will find us below.”
The banestone shingle crunched under our toes when we reached the base of the final cliff. A narrow strip of beach wound along the massive wall, cloaking the shore in deepening shadows. In the distance, Phobetor’s palace lurked, rising high atop the black-fire-opal islet.
Thesa snapped her fingers in front of Breena and my face, garnering our attention. “Watch your step. All manner of creatures lurk under the gravel.”
Breena’s lip curled as she eyed the pebbles, treading carefully.
We stayed near the water’s edge, letting the dim light and Galeyn guide our way.
“How weary you must be, travelers.” I spun to the newcomer on our right, hand around my dagger’s hilt.
The male siren smiled, water dripping from his indigo hair, running in rivulets down his bare torso as he bobbed close to the shore. His aura swelled with liquid sparkles the same color as his hair. “Come, let us help you.”
His throat glowed as he spoke, his energy rippling through the air with each word. They wrapped around me like a gentle caress, and my feet carried me toward him. Toward the two other beautiful females behind him.
Galeyn’s arm whipped across my chest, breaking the spell. “Still your tongue, friend.”
The male pouted playfully, the halo melting away.
“Maya, you’ll go with me. Breena and Seryn with the others.” Galeyn waved her hand toward her companion and then narrowed her eyes at him. “Behave, Ronen.”
“I don’t bite,” he crooned at Breena, caressing the top of the water with long, elegant fingers.
He most certainly did.
She smirked. “I do.”
He threw his head back, genuine amusement spilling from him. “Then we’ll get along just fine, mortal.”
Unabashedly, Galeyn stepped out of her breeches and into the water.
My mouth parted as her aura shimmered, swirling around her in glittering aqua light.
Her legs knit together, scales the same shade as her ember rippling over her skin.
She dove beneath the surf just as a magnificent, semi-translucent tail unfurled behind her.
She surfaced beside Ronen and the others with a satisfied smile.
It was the same expression I wore in Evergryn. And in the Perilous Bogs now. Both places were home.
Before Breena could go near the waves, a stifled yelp rent the air. My gaze snapped to the sound, and a flurry of movement confused my senses.
In a blur of bluish-gray and blue-veined wings, Thesa darted toward Mama, whose lips pulled back with shock. Pip tumbled from Thesa’s vest pocket, wings flailing as the pixie tried to right itself mid-fall. Thesa’s glaive arced through the air in my mother’s direction, forcing her to stumble back.
Pip landed on the ground with a soft squeak, blinking up at the chaos as if entirely unbothered.
Thinking she was attacking Mama, I lunged, ready to rip the vryka’s wings from her back, but Therrok caught me mid-leap by the vest.
“Get off me!” I shouted.
“Hold, little Nightshade.” His words were clipped as he swept Breena’s legs out from beneath her. Cursing, she hit the pebbles, daggers clattering at her sides.
Thesa sheathed her weapon as swiftly as it had appeared. A wispy trail of Nyxvein slithered back into the gravel between her and my mother.
“What the ever-loving feck was that?” Breena squealed.
I tore free from Therrok’s grip and rushed to Mama’s side. At her feet lay the severed head of a serpent-like creature. Liquid shadows seeped from between its shiny, black scales. Blood dripped from one of its fangs.
Mama winced as she held her side. “Bane vipers. Its nest was hiding underfoot.” She nodded at the female vryka as Breena scrambled to her feet. “Thank you, Thesa.”
She rolled her shoulders, a shiver running through her wings. “My pleasure.” Her nostrils flared. “Nasty little beasts.”
I wrapped my arm around Mama, steadying her. “It bit you.”
Thesa scoffed, rolling her eyes. “It barely grazed her. Poison didn’t even loose.”
My mother pressed against her flank harder with a grimace. “Don’t worry, Little Star. Looks worse than it is. The aether won’t claim me anytime soon.”
I toed the creature’s remains with my boot, and it erupted into a billow of dust, sinking into the banestone shore. “Don’t you mean the Stygian Murk?”
Mama’s eyes didn’t meet mine. After several seconds, my shoulders inched up when no one answered my question.
Thesa’s wings twitched as she shifted her gaze elsewhere. “Come, Pip,” she muttered, holding her pocket open for the pixie. She glanced at Mama. “We’ll meet you there and scout for an opening.”
Therrok ran his tongue over one fang. “And take out any waiting guards.”
Breena crossed her arms, eyes fixed on the retreating wings skimming low over the water. “Still think we should’ve gone with them. We’re like baggage no one wants.”
Mama’s lips curved faintly. “Better baggage than dead weight. You know carrying us would have weakened them.” Her smile lingered, but her gaze was on the dark horizon. “And you’ll be grateful for their strong wings soon enough. What waits inside will test every one of us.”
Breena’s smirk wavered, betraying the rare flicker of nerves she tried to bury under bravado. She muttered, “You really know how to ruin a perfectly good whinge.”
Mama’s eyes softened, but she let the silence stretch rather than respond. With a grunt, she lowered herself onto a nearby boulder and lifted her tunic.
My stomach dropped. A finger-length cut scored the skin just below her ribcage, the edges angry, though the bleeding had already slowed. I let out a shaky breath.
“Breena, fetch my pack. Needle, thread, and noirshade,” Mama instructed, her voice steady.
Breena’s amusement returned as she dug in the bag. “Now, Maya—I’ll never say no to a nip of wine, but is this really the time?” she joked before handing over the bottle.
Mama chuffed a laugh that turned into a wince as she poured the navy alcohol over the gash. It hissed and fizzed as it disinfected the wound.
I clenched my fists when she sucked in air between her teeth.
Then she took several swallows of noirshade, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before managing a crooked, pained smirk. “It’ll make me forget the pain for a while.”
My eyebrows creased as I watched them. Mama still hadn’t answered my earlier question.
Breena produced the needle and thread with a flourish and then crouched beside her. “I’ll stitch you up quick. Hold still, Mama Nightshade.”
My mother brushed her fingers over Breena’s shoulder, gentle despite the tremor in her hand. I moved to her other side, steadying her with my palm resting against her back.
Dread stiffened my shoulder blades. In Midst Fall, when someone died, their astral form was pulled to limbo.
From there, they went to the dream or nightmare realms after judgment.
Or if they’d been soul-wandering, like we did during Dormancy, their astral form went to the Murk, their body remaining in stasis.
But … she wasn’t in her own realm, and hadn’t been for a long time.
I squeezed my mother’s shoulder, my voice more insistent. “Mama, don’t you mean you won’t be pulled to the Stygian Murk any time soon?”
Breena tied off the end of her sutures and brushed her hands on her breeches before rising. “Mighty fine handiwork, if I say so myself.” Her tone wobbled at the end as if she were trying to change the subject.
She grabbed the noirshade and took a pull, holding the bottle out to me. “Have a fecking nip, Firefly.”
Irritation bubbled. Pushing the bottle away, I ignored her and glared at my mother. “Answer me,” I demanded.
Mama offered Breena a grateful look and then tucked a damp curl behind her ear. She pressed her lips together, standing and placing both hands on my cheeks. Her skin was warm and rough from turns of hard survival. “Seryn, I know you understand.”
My pulse stuttered. I chose the path of willful denial. “Understand what?”
But I understood. I’d known the whole time, but I’d pushed the truth deep down, defiantly refusing to acknowledge it.
Because after all the many long turns without my mother, I finally had her back. My chin jutted forward, and I bit the side of my cheek, still fighting with myself.
Her physical form had been pulled to her as Kaden’s had been in the nightmare prison. It wasn’t safe in a pod, tethering her soul. It wasn’t there to yank her astral form back, like an elastic band, to limbo if destroyed.
She tilted her head, eyebrows pushing together, and regret lining her mouth. Liquid welled along my lower lashes, and I blinked, unashamed when a tear spilled over and dampened my cheek.
“Mama,” I whispered, burying my face in her neck and gently wrapping my arms around her.
My mother wouldn’t be coming home to Evergryn.
And if she sustained fatal injuries here, the aether would claim her like it had done to Hestia.
Because she’d been in a realm not her own for too long.
Her corporeal body was stolen turns ago.
Her astral form trapped and left to wander the Nether Void all this time.
“You … you died,” I breathed. The weight of my words was too much. I would surely sink beneath the banestone at any moment, its darkness trapping me here with her.
My mind spun, desperate for a loophole. “I could visit you during the full moons. Letti, too.” My voice trembled. “There must be a way.”
Mama’s smile was tender, sorrowful. “No, Little Star. Each time mortals cross the veil, it frays. It pulls at the threads that bind your body and soul. Thins the boundaries between life and death, dream and waking. Yet another reason the Dormancy is so malevolent—why the pods must be destroyed once and for all.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew she was right. The longer we stayed, the more the Oneiric realms would try to claim us. The more the portals would strain and weaken until nightmares completely bled into the living plane.
Gently, her fingers smoothed my hair before tipping my chin up. “Don’t despair. Home is gone to me, yes—but Surrelia, Morpheus … there may yet be a place I can begin again. And one day, you and Letti will find me there. For what is death but a dream?”
After depositing me at the base of the islet, Mama and Breena had gone with Galeyn and the other sirens, approaching the palace under the cover of darkness and waves.
My wet clothes chilled my flesh, and I shook out my hands, trying to rid myself of shivers, breath clouding the space before me.
My thighs burned from climbing the crooked stairs that coiled around the islet. Each step pitched outward, a threat of air and nothing below; there was no railing, no handhold but my resolve. I pressed my palm to the fire-opal wall, ignoring the nerves clawing at my belly.
Images skittered through my head like chasm spiders. Gavrel, broken and bruised. Mama, bursting into ashes. Everyone I loved crumpled and bloodied, pulled screaming into the aether.
Stop.
I couldn’t lose myself here. Not now.
I drew in three slow breaths, counting each one against my heartbeat. With each measured exhale, the panic leaked away. My world narrowed to the steps beneath my soles and the rhythm of the Shadowvault Amulet and my rune stone thumping against my chest.
Gavrel had to be alive. I would have felt it if he weren’t. Right? The question echoed through my skull, but the faint hum against my ribs eased the sharpest edges of my concern.
The air thickened the higher I climbed; rank with iron and smoke, coating my tongue. Shadows leaked along the edges of each stair, creeping closer.
My ember purred against my scar, reminding me who I was. Determined, I set my jaw and pressed on, shoving aside my doubts. Whatever happened today, we would endure.
I would find Gavrel. I would save him. I would end this.
The twisted copper gate loomed ahead at last. Carved banestone sentinels flanked it, their rocky faces twisted into screams.
I touched the hilt at my side, comforted that I wasn’t walking into this unarmed.
This wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t sparring or memory. This was the threshold of nightmare itself. And I was done running.
I squared my shoulders. Steadily, my ember vibrated inside me. Whatever waited beyond this gate, it would not break me.
For I was already broken. And I had learned to carve my own path with the beautifully scarred edges of my soul.
I wrapped my palm around a metal bar, letting its chill anchor me.
I grinned at the new image emerging in my mind.
One of Phobetor on his knees, his shadows torn, ground into dust.