Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
The sheets are warm, but his body is cold. I reach for him as I always do, waiting for him to reach back in return. In that moment, I delude myself into thinking that I didn’t just see his soul being taken away. That was just a bad dream. He isn’t dead. He’s just sleeping.
But he never reaches for me. His body is still, unresponsive.
“Don’t you dare,” I mutter under my breath. “Wake up, Mine. This isn’t funny.” My voice trembles as I speak, my body tense with fear. I push at his shoulder. No answer.
No, no, no. This is just another nightmare. He’s not dead. He cannot be dead.
With growing panic, I shove him again, my voice becoming frantic. “Wake up,” I demand, my voice cracking. “Wake up!”
His head tilts slightly at my touch, his once vibrant face now slack and lifeless. My heart pounds in my chest as I refuse to accept this reality.
No. This can’t be happening. It’s not real.
I grasp at him, cupping his cheeks, willing for any sign of life. But there is none. “This isn’t funny! Please, stop it!” Tears stream down my face. “Wake up, please wake up—” I shout, all over again, a command meant both for him and for me. If this is a dream, then I will just wake up and everything will be fine. Mine will be there to hug me, kiss me, love me. He will be there for me.
But my cries go unanswered. He remains frozen in place. I remain present and awake.
My hands move down his body, feeling the chill of death under my fingertips. Madness overtakes me as I lay my cheek against his heart, trying to transfer some warmth, some vitality back into his still form.
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
My own powerlessness stares back at me. I might be a goddess, but even I do not have power over death.
How did this happen? How can this be real? He was alive just last night, his warm body next to mine.
Now there’s only coldness.
I am made from cold, to love the cold. But I’ve never in my life hated it as I do now.
A guttural scream tears from deep within me, clawing its way out and echoing through the empty room. It’s a sound of anguish and denial, raw and primal, like that of a wounded animal.
I dig my nails into his chest, hoping to elicit a flinch or a sigh, anything to prove that he is still here with me.
But there is nothing.
More cold descends in the room, the walls slowly becoming covered in frost—a physical manifestation of my grief. My powers become uncontrollable as I give the ice that’s building inside of me free rein to consume the outside. Yet it never touches him. It engulfs everything but never him.
Because he’s already been consumed by the cold…
I continue to plead, my fingers now tangled in his hair as I shake him in desperation. “Don’t you dare leave me!” I cry out, half commanding him, half begging him.
I press my lips to his, some delusional part of me thinking that my kiss will revive him. But he remains unresponsive, his mouth slack against mine.
Slowly, I pull away, my tears falling onto his expressionless face.
True terror grips me as reality crashes onto me.
He’s gone. His soul is gone. Now there’s only this lifeless body that means nothing to me without its spark.
Numbness engulfs me as I slide to the floor next to the bed. I stare into empty space as I breathe in and out and try to clear my head. I won’t resolve anything by devolving into a hysterical mess. Time is of the essence here. He might be gone, for now, but his soul is still alive.
He is not completely lost to me.
He is probably in P’asala right now, making his way toward the Letharion—the well of oblivion. And as soon as he drinks from that well, he will forget everything.
He will forget me .
Come find me.
The words echo in the frozen room.
Come find me.
How? Where?
There is no way for me to go to P’asala and get his soul before he reaches Letharion. I would be killed on the spot if I tried to trespass—that much I know.
Once he’s drunk from Lethe’s well, he will be assigned a level in the House of Psyche while he awaits his next incarnation.
The logical thing would be to wait for him to be reborn. But there is another thing to consider.
He’s a soldier, a killer. He’s killed countless people, both in the name of this senseless war and to protect me. That alone would likely relegate him to Katras, the lowest level of the House of Psyche, where he might be tortured for an eternity.
That I cannot countenance.
Not only must I prevent him from being tortured, for I have heard stories of how harsh the punishment is for damned souls, but I cannot let him rot in there for an eternity.
While damned souls can create enough merit for themselves to move up the levels of the House of Psyche before eventually getting their turn at reincarnation, there is also the possibility that they will never make it that far.
He might be sent to Katras, or he might be sent to a slightly higher level. As long as he is at the bottom of the House of Psyche, he will suffer, and that is unacceptable.
My hands ball into fists as I imagine the horrors he’s about to endure.
You’re a goddess, Minnie! You have power.
I do, don’t I? I might not have the power to bring him back to life in his original form, but I can get his soul back. It might be hard. It might be close to impossible. But I’ve already done the impossible when I went to the House of Moirai and cut my own thread of fate. Breaking into the House of Psyche should be easy compared to that.
Wyn’s ominous words ring in my mind.
When the time comes, you must make two visits. One to the House of Moirai and one to the House of Psyche.
She knew this would happen. Somehow, she knew everything.
I trusted her once and went to the House of Moirai. Now I will trust her again and go to the House of Psyche.
Hopefully stealing a soul is not too hard.
But how do I enter the House of Psyche? Can I just barge inside and wander through the levels? There is very little I know about the workings of the House of Psyche aside from the standard information we’re taught in our schooling. The House of Psyche is not open to visitors, just like the House of Moirai, so I could be turned away.
Alas, if all things fail, I suppose my last resort is killing myself and going to the House of Psyche as a spirit, though I don’t know how I would avoid the Letharion so I don’t lose my memories and thus lose sight of my goal.
I groan. Why is this so hard? Not only that, but why am I so damn ignorant of the workings of my own world? I don’t even know what I’ll do once I find him. What does a soul look like after it arrives in the House of Psyche? Is it the same as before? Does it change? Can I carry it in my pocket? Do I need a special soul-carrying bottle or vial?
I let out a heavy sigh.
But there is another question that lingers in my mind.
Did Mine know he would die?
Closing my eyes, I massage my temples and think back to the night before.
He hadn’t seemed any different than usual. I’ve already witnessed how his illness behaved and last night he seemed healthy. Except…
His new scars. There were fresh marks on his flesh. While they weren’t bleeding, they were red-pinkish in color, suggesting he’d gotten them fairly recently. But how? When? Why did he not tell me about it?
And to think I might have added more stress to his already weak constitution when I argued with him and left him…
A pang of hurt reverberates in my body.
Oh, Mine. Why didn’t you tell me if something was wrong? Or was this part of your secretive plan, too? Something you couldn’t yet divulge?
Luckily for me, all souls are treated equally in the House of Psyche regardless of their species. It’s only when they move from the House of Psyche to the House of Moirai and they get assigned a new fate that their species is determined.
Getting to my feet, I’m wobbly at first, devoid of any will to live on as I once more see his lifeless form.
But this pain is ephemeral. It will all be fine once I get his soul back. We’ll be together again and all will be well.
I chant that to myself until I’m fully convinced of it.
Staring at him, I’m both wary to leave him alone like this and restless to erase the image of him dead from my mind. But I will only achieve the latter once I get him back. Until then…
What is going to happen to his body? I can’t very well leave it here to decompose. His mother will come back next Saturday. By that time, he will already start to rot.
It might only be an empty carcass now, but his face is still the face of the man I love.
I should find a way to let his family know so they can treat his remains with the respect they deserve.
As I ponder how to get in touch with his family, a succession of noises draws my attention.
There is a continuous rattling of a door handle somewhere downstairs, followed by a voice that calls out, “Valerion!”
His mother. She’s…here? Now?
What are the odds? I think wryly to myself. But I cannot waste time wondering about that when I can go about my mission.
With a heavy heart, I lay a kiss on his cold lips and murmur a binding vow.
“I vow to the Source that I will get you back, or I will die trying.”
Back in Aperion, I note that only a day has passed since I’ve been gone. The palace is quiet as I make my way toward the library to consult some books on how to gain access to the House of Psyche. Since it seems to be midday here, I don’t expect to run into any one of importance. My father has meetings at this time and my mother usually has her beauty afternoon sleep.
I barely reach the door to the library when my senses become high on alert.
“You!” my mother shrieks at me when she sees me.
I turn and frown.
“What have you done, stupid girl?”
I blink in confusion. “What?”
She charges toward me, her energy shimmering around her. Instinctively, my shields go up to protect myself from an incoming attack.
“How could you do this? How?” she shouts, and the ground under my feet trembles from her anger.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No idea? You have no idea? You’ve ruined us! All of us!”
“Wait a moment. What happened?”
She’s still a distance away, but I keep my shields up in case she decides to unleash her energy toward me. Her once beautiful face is mottled with anger, her cheeks red, her eyes almost bulging out of her face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this before, and a sliver of fear envelops me. What could have happened to cause her to react like this? I was only gone a day. Not much would have changed in that time, no? But perhaps she’s heard about Cerenios’ true intentions toward me; that he isn’t interested in a potential marriage, but rather he’s investigating me at Commander Azerius’ orders.
“What do you mean what happened? Soldiers should be here any moment to arrest you,” she continues in the same shrilly voice.
“Arrest me?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“How could you do this, Minerva? How could you lay with a human?”
“W-what?” I stammer. “I didn’t?—”
“There’s no point in denying it. Theron has not only publicly repudiated you, but he’s also shared evidence of your behavior. By the Source, how can you be my child? How could you do something like this…” she continues. “The entirety of Aperion knows what you’ve done. How you’ve shamed all of us. But with a human, Minerva.” She shakes her head. “I never had much hope for you, but I never believed you would do something like this.”
I stare at her. Theron repudiated me? For lying with a human? But… How would he know?
“What evidence did he show?” I ask slowly.
“He used a divining mirror to show everyone how you lay like a whore with that scar-riddled human.”
“Don’t call him that,” I snap.
Her nostrils flare at me, the corner of her lips tugging down in disdain.
“You know what the punishment is for this. Death. And neither your father nor I will do anything to help you. In fact.” She pauses. In the distance, I register thudding footsteps. She hears them, too. “I disown you. You are no daughter of mine.”
Perhaps that type of statement deserves a comeback, but it seems she was not joking when she mentioned soldiers are coming to arrest me. They’re in the palace, on their way toward me. I give her one last look of disappointment before I flash myself in the library. After gathering as many books on the House of Psyche as possible, I teleport out of the palace just as the library doors burst open to reveal the incoming soldiers.
To make them lose my trail, I teleport all over Aperion, leaving small prints of energy behind before shielding myself altogether. Then I go to the only place I know no one will think to look for —the cabin in Polemos. They will eventually come here, too. But it should buy me some time to study the books and figure out a plan of action.
But as I arrive at the cabin, I realize I didn’t count on the memories of Mine hitting me with such a fierce force. I see him in the middle of the living room, poring over books. I see him smiling at me and kissing my forehead. I see him hugging me from behind as we go to sleep.
The tears fall unbidden as I stand in the middle of the room, staring into empty space. The books fall from my grasp, thudding against the hardwood floor.
“How did I mess everything so badly?” I whisper to myself.
I was careless, so damn careless. I should have seen the signs of Mine’s deteriorating health just as I should have been more careful about my presence in Anthropa. From the moment I got there, I used my powers liberally with no thought to shield my energy signature. Theron could have easily followed me around. And given the way I humiliated him, he would have wanted revenge.
He got it. Oh, he got it in spades.
Not only is he free of me now, but my biggest fear has finally materialized. I am officially a fugitive sentenced to death. Ironically, it’s not even for the worst of my offenses—messing with the threads of fate. A dry laugh escapes me. I suppose they haven’t found out about that. Yet.
Well, considering my next little heist, the offenses will keep on piling up. It’s not like they can kill me three times. Not that it’s of any consolation.
Taking a deep breath, I get to reading.
Although the House of Psyche is closed to anyone born outside its boundaries, there is one way of getting inside. Every hundred of years, a deity is allowed to lodge a complaint with the House of Psyche if they feel that a soul has not been judged properly. The complaint can be either in favor of the soul, arguing that the punishment has been too harsh, or to the disadvantage of the soul, arguing that it should be sent to a lower level and thus delay its reincarnation.
If I seek entrance to lodge a complaint… Won’t they know who I am and that there is a pending arrest warrant for me?
With no other choice, I suppose I will have to try my luck.
To ensure I will be at my optimal strength, I quickly eat something and ransack the cabin for any leftover items that might hold some spiritual energy. At the moment, my energy is nearly full, but there is no telling what I might encounter in the future, so I will need some backup. When I get to the study, I find a pen that my grandmother used in the past and note it’s overflowing with energy. I place it in my pocket.
Careful to shield my energy signature, I teleport to the entrance of the House of Psyche. Similar to the House of Moirai, there are two guards in front of a portal. I introduce myself and tell them I am here to lodge an official complaint about an errant soul. After I’m done speaking, I wait with bated breath to see if they recognize my name.
“You may proceed,” one of the guards says.
The portal blinks twice and I go inside. At the other end, a deity garbed in a blue gown awaits me. “I am Fina and I will be your guide today.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Please follow me to the Office of Complaints.”
She starts walking. I follow after her, glancing around and studying my surroundings.
The entire background is a light blue. There is no earth or sky, nor a beginning or an end. There isn’t anything but a big void, and we are walking on a marbled bridge that materializes in front of us as we step forward. The entire area is like a board of chess, waiting for us to make the next move before it makes its own.
I lean over to the edge as I try to see what’s underneath this bridge, but Fina suddenly stops me. She pulls me back and shakes her head.
“You would do well not to look down.”
“Huh? Why?”
She gives me a smile that does not reach her eyes.
“Anything below this bridge is the domain of Ishaktar and she does not like to be gazed upon without permission. Anyone who dares to look at her without permission is pulled down into the deepest pit in Psyche.”
Ishaktar… The books mentioned her. She is the former Psyche Supreme. No one knows why she retired from the position when normally, a deity has to die to relinquish the Supreme position. Some rumors say she’s gone mad because she’s lived far too long, seen too much. She’s so ancient, the books referred to her as an entity rather than a being; ever-present, ever-knowing. No one knows her age, or what she looks like. She just…exists.
But the books never mentioned that she still controls areas of Psyche.
“The deepest pit? By that you mean…” I feign a shudder and paint an expression of terror on my face.
“You may know it as Katras.”
My destination.
“That horrible place?”
She smiles again, as fake as my attempts at bodily tremors.
“It is only horrible for those who have something to fear,” she replies cryptically.
Turning, she continues to walk, beckoning me to follow. The bridge extends in front of us with every step, almost as if the entire construction was sentient.
“You are from the House of Psyche, Fina?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Where do your people live if this is what Psyche looks like?”
She stops and glances at me from the corner of her eyes.
“Your questions are intrusive.”
So it’s a secret. All right.
What surprises me the most—besides the self-building bridge—is the fact that we’re the only ones here. Shouldn’t Psyche be bustling around with beings? At the very least, there should be other people around.
That’s when it slowly dawns on me that the realm itself is alive and showing us only what we need to know or see.
Ishaktar. She is the realm, isn’t she? Directing the ongoing traffic in a way that keeps most of the workings of Psyche hidden.
And if she is so anger-prone she sends anyone who glances down to Katras, perhaps that is my ticket there.
What if Mine isn’t there?
If he’s not there, I’ll claw my way out to the next level and then the next. I’ve vowed not to rest until I find him unless I die and that’s what I’m going to do.
Squashing aside all my doubts, I take a deep breath and channel my energy. When Fina realizes I’m not following her, she stops and comes to my side.
“What is the matter?” she asks.
“Nothing, just…” I grab her hand and infuse icy energy into her, her limbs becoming swallowed up by a layer of ice that later consumes her entire body.
She’s frozen to the spot, unable to move. Since I don’t know what her skills are and how quickly she’s able to break free, I quickly move to the edge of the bridge.
And since Ishaktar might not notice me staring at her immediately, I take it one step further and simply jump.
The fall is steep. So steep, in fact, that I fear it’s never-ending.
Without warning and after what feels like an eternity, I crash onto a hard, scorching ground. My body twists and contorts, with broken bones protruding from my flesh and half my face caved in.
Well… Damn.
Pain erupts everywhere in my body, so much so I can barely roll from side to side to take some pressure off my injured side. Once I’m on my back, I feel for the broken bones and push them back into place. My shoulder goes in easy enough. My cheekbone, too. My jaw proves a little harder as I find the right angle to pop it back on. It’s my hip and shin bones that are the worst, mostly because the bone has broken off, leaving a sharp, ragged edge.
I’m not sure why, but there is something off about this place. My movements are slower than before, and I have to make a conscious effort to carry out even the easiest of tasks.
I tear some material from the bottom of my dress and wrap it around my hand in a thick layer. Using my clenched fist, I knock on the bone with the layered part of my hand until it moves back into place. It takes me minutes on end to successfully put all my bones back inside my body. But even with nothing else poking out, I find that my healing is not as sharp as it should be considering I’m at full power. The skin mends, but there is a noticeable delay, which means there is a noticeable delay in my pain subsiding too.
Goddamn it, as Mine would say. Considering the pain I’m enduring right now for him, I will add a one hundred times interest to his debt. He will owe me orgasms for not only his next life, but the next one and the next-next one too.
Muttering a strong of curses under my breath—another thing I’ve learned from him—I wobble to my feet. But it’s when I try to stand up that it hits me that this is not a normal place at all.
A suffocating heat envelops me, making it hard to breathe. My lungs work at double capacity to make up for it. But it’s not just my breathing that’s affected. This scorching heat makes me want to strip off every layer of clothing, even shed my skin. My mouth is dry and I’m suddenly struck by an unquenchable thirst.
I take a step forward, but it feels as if I’m taking a step back instead.
My vision blurs and I’m unable to make out anything around me. The air is thick and oppressive, bearing down on me mercilessly, making me unable to carry my own weight.
I crash to my knees, unable to stand up anymore.
My breathing is shallow and ragged, and I start gasping for air.
But just as I think I might suffocate, fresh air fills my lungs until I can finally breathe properly.
What?
“Better?” a voice asks.
I look up to see a female. Her slim figure is garbed in a flowing red dress. Her hair is pulled back tightly into a neat bun at the back of her head. Green, vibrant eyes overlined with a black kohl stare down at me.
“Who are you?”
She smiles slowly at me, revealing sharp, predatory teeth. She crouches down in front of me.
“You may call me Anami.”
I frown. “Are you here to escort me out? Because I’m not leaving. Not yet.”
“On the contrary. I am here to help. But first…”
She raises her gaze, looking at something over my head.
“He’s here, watching. Shield your mind, Minerva,” she commands. “Now!”