Chapter 4
Ursula lay on a marble floor in the fetal position, as she coughed up another lungful of water.
Cera wiped the wet hair from her face. “Earthly gods below, what took you so long?”
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to find her voice again. “There were dead things in there, dragging me down.”
“Oh, dear. The Forgotten Ones found you?”
Ursula rolled onto her back, staring up at a ceiling painted with constellations. Her teeth chattered, and she hugged her naked body. “The Forgotten Ones? Is that what they are? They took my fire.”
Cera sighed. She’d already dressed in a cozy-looking black robe. “There wasn’t time to warn you, but at least we’ve escaped the dragon.”
Ursula forced herself up on her elbows, surveying her surroundings. She lay in the center of a round room, her feet dangling in a clear, circular pool no more than six inches deep. Was it really possible that she’d been drowning in this shallow water just moments ago? She’d nearly died.
Around the room, thin columns flanked windows that reached from the floor to ceiling. Through the glass, a gray landscape stretched out under a canopy of gleaming stars. Only a few rocks interrupted the flat horizon—no buildings, nor trees or any sign of life. Where the hell are we? Her teeth chattered.
Before she could form one of the million questions on the tip of her tongue, the little demon came up behind her and handed her a velvet robe. “Perhaps you should put this on.”
Ursula took it gladly, wrapping it around her freezing shoulders. Instantly, her muscles began to relax.
Enveloped by the robe, she glanced out the window again.
She drew in a slow breath, her gaze drifting upward. Above the stark landscape, the pale wash of the Milky Way splashed across the night sky, more vivid than she’d ever seen. Too vivid. This is not Earth.
Her breath caught in her throat. “I guess we’re not in Brooklyn.”
Cera snorted. “No, we’re not in Brooklyn. The Shadow Realm is on the moon.”
“The moon,” she repeated, turning to gape at Cera.
“Of course. Nyxobas’s water carried you here,” said Cera, crossing the room to a black door. She cast a critical eye over Ursula’s bedraggled hair. “Shall I show you to your quarters? You look half-dead.”
“Okay,” said Ursula absently. Barefoot, she padded over cold marble as she followed Cera, still trying to process the fact that she’d left the earth. She didn’t feel any lighter. Shouldn’t she be floating around the room?
Cera pushed open the door. “This way.”
Ursula followed the oneiroi into the cold air, her heart skipping a beat as she realized they were outside.
Outside. On the moon. Without a spacesuit or helmet. They stood on a milky, marble bridge, a thousand feet above a deep, cratered valley. The bridge spanned the space between two round towers.
Ursula paused as a bitterly cold wind ruffled her hair, gripping the marble ledge to peer into the crater. Her pulse raced. In the center of the caldera, a towering spire of purple glass loomed above them. Unlike the sleek lines of New York’s skyscrapers, this tower was all jagged edges and sharp angles.
All around them, stark palaces of shining, silver towers jutted from the crater’s walls. If she strained her eyes, she could see a faint horizon on the far side of the spire, the gleam of distant buildings.
She gazed down at the vast valley spread out below, filled with stone dwellings. She drew in a slow breath. The human race had managed to send twelve people to the moon, and yet here was a vast kingdom no one had ever noticed.
She searched the skies for the Earth—home, something familiar—but only stars twinkled in the black sky. Out here, the air smelled faintly of creosote, and dizziness overwhelmed her. She glanced at Cera, who moved at a fast clip across the bridge, her silver hair trailing behind her.
“Wait!” Ursula called out. “I don’t understand. There’s a whole colony on the moon? Why doesn’t NASA have pictures? And how can I breathe if there’s no atmosphere? And why doesn’t the gravity feel any different?” Those were just the first four questions that entered her mind, but she could keep going.
Cera paused near the other end of the bridge before a gray door. She pointed at the sky. “Can you see that glimmer there?”
As Ursula walked, she looked up at the dome of stars. At first she couldn’t see what Cera meant, but then she noticed a faint shimmer along the horizon. Like the sheen of gasoline on a puddle.
“A glamour of magic surrounds us,” said Cera. “It both hides us from satellites and gives us air to breathe. And it takes care of the gravity problem.”
“How?”
“Magic.”
“Oh,” said Ursula, searching again for signs of the earth. “Are we on the dark side of the moon?”
“Yes. The far side, some call it.”
A dry wind toyed with Ursula’s hair. Shivering, she pulled the robe tighter around her. When she’d left for the Shadow Realm, she hadn’t realized it would be quite so far from home.
Cera pulled open the black door. “It’s freezing out here. Are you quite finished gaping?”
Not yet. She pointed at the spire. “What is that?”
“It’s called Asta. Where the god of night dwells.”
Ursula looked back at the building, trying to imagine what the home of a god might look like inside.
“Are you quite ready?” said Cera impatiently. “I prefer to walk around clothed and wearing shoes.”
Ursula hurried toward the door, her eyes focused straight ahead. As soon as she glanced at the bridge’s ledge, she knew dizziness would overwhelm her.
Through the door, Cera led her into an octagonal hall—half of it black marble. The other half lay completely destroyed, as if a giant fist had smashed through the wall, opening it to the night air. What happened here? Hugging herself, she surveyed the space.
The hair rose on the back of Ursula’s neck. On the mangled side of the hall, sheared steel beams twisted into the air like gnarled fingers. Wind rushed between them, chilling her skin. Shards of glass glinted in the starlight from the remains of old window frames. On the floor, a tile mosaic of a lion’s head lay half smashed. Part of the beast’s mane had been scorched and half its face smashed to dust. Opposite where she stood, steps climbed to a small platform with a circular black door. Some sort of crystalline stone—obsidian maybe.
“Okay. What happened here?” she asked aloud this time.
“A battle.” Cera’s eyes shone in the darkness like starlight. “Our lord is very strong. He protected us.” She turned, crossing to a door in one of the remaining marble walls. “This way to your quarters.” She yanked open the door.
Carefully, Ursula tiptoed over the shards of smashed glass and tile, following Cera onto another towering bridge. She kept her eyes on the demon, refusing to look over the vertigo-inducing railings as she crossed.
At the far end, Cera pushed open a door into a pitch-black room. As Ursula stepped over the threshold, candles in silver sconces flickered to life, casting warm light over a dark hall.
“I will be back in the morning,” said Cera, stepping back to the door. “You’ll have everything you need here.” She pulled open the door, then stepped out and slammed it shut with a click.
Ursula crossed to the door, tugging on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked in.