Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Nova
We stared at one another, our disdain thickening the air along with our magic.
He settled his magic quickly. In the darkness that followed, his golden eyes seemed to glow. He needed no words to explain the turmoil and fire in his gaze; he hated the effect I had on him and his power. It was a hatred I felt in return—an increasingly tangled web of animosity that made my heart pound.
Phantom growled low in his throat. When Aleksander’s attention shifted to him, I seized the opportunity to break free from our locked gaze, pushing my way past him and hurrying to meet Zayn in the front yard.
The king followed a few minutes later, along with his three most capable soldiers. The others would stay behind, it was decided, both to continue to tend to the outpost, and because traveling in a large group was more likely to attract unwanted attention from whatever spirits and beasts haunted these depths. My magic alone would undoubtedly draw some of those fiends; we didn’t need anything else increasing our chances of trouble.
Of course, I had my own reasons for insisting on a smaller party: It meant fewer people to outrun should my new companions prove as untrustworthy as I feared.
For now, though, I put on a facade of compliance, blending into the team. Zayn had a clear destination in mind, and the confident manner in which he struck out onto the road was contagious, urging me and everyone else onward.
I felt a flicker of relief as I realized his chosen path aligned closely with that of my own original plans; if the theory about the mirroring between the living world and the dead one held true, we were heading toward the parallel of Rose Point that lay somewhere in the darkness ahead.
As the six of us—seven, counting Phantom—walked, time stretched into what felt like hours.
Above, the sky unfurled in a tumultuous canvas of swirling colors, dominated by deep violets and somber greys, occasionally illuminated by flashes of crimson and cobalt. The ground rolled endlessly beneath us, a mixture of dark stone and ashen soil that swallowed the sound of our footsteps. The air was heavy, pervaded by a sense of melancholy, as if it bore the weight of all the former lives of the lost souls around us. We passed only a few of those wandering souls, and they all kept their distance.
But it felt as if countless more were watching us, lingering just out of sight.
I looked frequently to the sky. Violent as it was, it was still less unsettling than the ghosts drifting around us. When the flashes of blue overtook it, it occasionally reminded me of the sky in the living world—albeit one still streaked with foreboding colors and clouds, hinting at storms to come.
Several times, I thought I caught a glimpse of what looked like a sphere of fire peeking out of the tumbling waves of chaotic energy.
“Is there a sun in this sky?” I wondered aloud.
“If it can be called such a thing,” said Elias, one of the soldiers accompanying us. “It hasn’t moved since we’ve been here, though. Least, not that I’ve seen. Only the clouds around it shift and change the amount of light it gives off—but that shifting does seem to stick to a pattern that mimics the day and night of the living world.”
I kept watching, hoping for a clearer glimpse of this ‘sun’ that never came.
Finally, we slowed to a stop. Ahead of us, a strange structure stretched as far as I could see in both directions. It looked like it might have been a grand, protective wall at some point, but now it was nothing more than unevenly spaced piles of cracked and broken stone.
The physical damage it had sustained didn’t seem like the kind that could be caused by mere weathering, nor inflicted by wandering ghosts and incorporeal beings…
So what had destroyed it?
Zayn took a piece of parchment from his bag, consulting the notes and diagrams on it for a long moment before seemingly making up his mind about where to go next. He led us to one of the largest openings between the rubble piles, but he stopped short of trying to pass through it.
No one else dared to step forward, either; even Aleksander had exchanged his usual arrogant demeanor for a look that could almost be mistaken for concern.
I chanced a few cautious steps closer, studying the twisted scraps of iron scattered among the broken stone. It looked like the remnants of a gate. As I stared at it, a foreboding feeling took root in my gut and began to grow.
“This is as far as most of our expeditions have ventured over the years,” Zayn said. “A few went beyond this wall in the earlier days, but…”
“They didn’t make it back?” I guessed, glancing over my shoulder at him.
He shook his head slowly. “No…they did come back.” The words slipped from his lips with reluctance, like heavy stones forced uphill, fighting against the gravity of what he truly meant to say.
I held my breath, waiting for him to continue, but Zayn remained silent.
“They made it back, but they were never the same,” Aleksander interjected, his voice cold. “All three took their own lives within weeks of returning.”
Zayn cleared his throat. “Yes. But before they did, they spoke of strange things they’d seen on the other side. Most notably? A walled city rising far in the distance, much of it hidden by a hazy cloud that suggested it might have been surrounded by powerful, protective magic. And there was at least one towering structure rising impressively high in the center of that place.”
“An impressive structure…” I repeated. “Like a palace? A mirror of Rose Point and the city that once flourished around it?”
“One of my theories,” said Zayn. “I’m curious to explore it further, either way—which is why I thought we’d start our search in this direction. But now that we’re here…”
Now that we were here, the way forward loomed impossibly dark and dangerously uncertain.
Everything safe and familiar was already far behind me, though, and turning back didn’t seem like a viable option, either. So I took a few more steps forward. The red-beaded bracelet around my wrist shivered, so I gave in to the magic it channeled, just a little—just enough to let a more perceptive filter overtake my vision—allowing me to better spot and decipher the energies and potential spells surrounding the piles of stone and metal.
Most of the wall might have been gone, but someone, or some thing, had rebuilt the gaps, placing reinforcement spells that had been invisible to my naked eye, but which danced with brilliant color before me now—a tumbling current of black and silver magic.
“The energy shifts in a strange way within the empty spaces,” I explained to the others. “It’s building and stretching out like a new wall.” I blinked several times, clearing away the remnants of my enhanced Sight. “The path isn’t as open as it seems.”
“…You can see such things?” Aleksander questioned, skepticism lacing his voice.
The doubt in his tone irritated me. “I can do more than just see it,” I replied, meeting his gaze defiantly. “If I wished, I could drain the energy and create a passage for us to slip through unscathed—while hopefully avoiding the cursed magic that drove your soldiers to madness. I used a similar trick on the Nocturnus Road when I first arrived in this hell.”
He still looked skeptical, but he gestured me toward the largest opening, as if to say prove it, then .
And I rarely missed an opportunity to prove myself.
Without hesitation, I strode forward until I was right in front of the missing gate, my fingers reaching out, preparing to explore the shimmering magic woven into the air.
“ Siphonus ,” I uttered, my voice steady yet quiet, reverberating with intent. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the energy swirl around me, then opened them to the vivid display of black and silver forces I’d glimpsed moments before. They danced with renewed intensity, swirling most fervently around the remnants of the crumbling wall, while the stones themselves glimmered with a rich, sparkling green hue.
Orin had taught me that everything carried life. Even crumbled walls like these held the imprints of things left behind—the hopes and dreams of the hands that had crafted it, the sorrows and aspirations of those who once walked along it. To carve a path through the barrier, I would need to drain the energy that clung to the stones first, separating it from the spell barring our passage. Then I could focus more easily on the spell.
As I began the process, it felt as if I was absorbing not just the energy, but the lingering echoes of the wall’s existence too—its triumphs and its tragedies intertwining with my own essence. I could almost sense it collapsing, the weight of its history pulling at my body and threatening to bring me down as well.
My arms dropped to my sides, overcome with the weight of it all.
Phantom nudged his nose into my palm, snorting warm breath into it.
“Are you okay?” Zayn asked.
I waved off his concern, shook the feeling back into my limbs, and immediately moved on to trying to take hold of the barrier spell.
Siphoning the silvery-black waves of energy proved challenging—but I had anticipated far worse. They struggled precariously against my hold, like a sail caught in a stormy wind, trying to rip free. I steadied my breath, though, allowing the beat of my heart to sync with the erratic rhythm of the magic, and soon I felt the energy flowing into me, weaving its way through my veins.
With one final surge of focus, I pulled the remaining bits of the spell into myself. It unraveled from the wall with a sharp snap that nearly knocked me off my feet.
“...Nova?”
“I’m fine,” I reassured Zayn. “It’s clear. Let’s just cross over while we can.”
I led the way, Phantom at my side, the others following closely behind.
As we passed through the opening, a visible shudder rippled throughout our entire group. Aleksander came last, little cracks lighting on his skin as he stopped to encourage the last of his soldiers—Elias—to keep moving.
Elias seemed to have forgotten where he was for a moment. The dazed look in his eyes sent a shiver skipping down my spine.
Once we were all through, we huddled together against the biting cold that felt more penetrating on this side of the barrier.
“The energy around this wall is still dangerous,” Aleksander commented, his brow furrowing. “I can’t see it, but I can feel it intensifying, suddenly. It’s restless.”
As much as I disliked agreeing with him, I instinctively turned my magical sight back toward the gateway and nodded. “It’s like we’ve triggered an alarm. Something really didn’t want us to cross. I can’t explain it, but…”
My words trailed off and my body tensed at the sound of a low hiss echoing through the air, growing louder as the seconds passed. I held tight to my red-beaded bracelet while my companions exchanged worried looks. No one spoke right away. We scarcely dared to breathe.
“…That spell was powerful.” I ran my fingers through Phantom’s cold fur, trying to hide the way my hand shook. “There’s a very good chance that whatever created it has been staying nearby, working to maintain it.”
“Should we go back?” Elias asked.
The other soldiers—Rowen and Farren—whispered between themselves, wondering the same thing. One by one, the three of them looked to their king.
“We aren’t going back.” Alexander’s tone was grimly stoic. “But we should get away from this wall and find cover somewhere. Lay low for a moment while we feel the area out and decide our next steps.”
No one argued. We followed a small trickle of a stream with cloudy water until it led us into a clutch of spindly, leafless trees that provided some measure of cover. Here, we laid our packs down along a flat, sandy stretch of ground and quietly discussed our options.
After a few minutes, Aleksander knelt by the stream, fingertips skimming the water.
I watched—mesmerized against my will—as that water swirled and brightened beneath his touch. When it settled, a perfectly clear, purified section of stream flowed before him.
He didn’t look up at me as he refilled his canteen and several others, but I could see his arrogant smile reflected in the stream as he said, “It’s okay to be impressed.”
I briefly considered darkening the cleared water with my shadows just because I could. Petty? Yes. A waste of magic? Also yes.
But gods, I hated that smirk.
I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, and then walked away without replying, announcing that I would keep watch so the others could rest.
I brought Elias along with me; he still seemed in danger of slipping back into a daze if left unattended. I tried to make small talk with him to keep him awake—something I’d never been particularly good at, which proved even more difficult than usual with my all of my nerves on edge.
I eventually gave up on trying to talk, instead stationing him at the top of the hill sloping into our resting spot while I patrolled a wider perimeter. Phantom accompanied me on this patrol, at first, but after an hour or so he grew bored and took to entertaining himself by digging holes and burying various objects in them. When I inquired as to what he could possibly be storing in the dirt here, I received only a haughty reply that it was his business, not mine.
Very serious dog business, apparently.
I continued minding my own, and I occasionally heard the same low hiss in the wind that we’d heard near the wall.
Eventually, I gathered my courage and walked back toward that wall, scanning the area for any sign of where the ominous noise might have been originating from.
I never found anything—yet I remained convinced something was there. A feeling in my gut, tightening with every strange sound or flicker in the lighting. It was more unsettling than facing a monster outright, to be able to sense it but not see it.
Our break was over, I decided; it was time to pick a direction and keep moving.
I made my way back to the others, preparing to rally them for an onward march. Elias had his back to me as I approached—staring at our temporary camp rather than watching for threats approaching it.
“Some lookout he is,” I muttered, picking up my pace.
As I reached him, though, I slowed to a stop. His eyes were glazed over. He was mumbling words that didn’t sound like any tongue I recognized from the living world. And no matter how I shook him, or how loudly I called his name, he didn’t reply.
A troubling thought—a possible explanation—struck me. Though I was afraid to test my theory, I reached a trembling hand toward him, giving my red-beaded bracelet a shake, bracing myself to channel magic through it once more.
The enhanced Sight fell over my eyes, revealing threads of silvery-black entwining Elias—threads the same color as the spell that had tried to prevent our crossing the wall. They clung so tightly to him in places that it was hard to see where they ended and he began; and they seemed to be sinking more deeply into his energy, changing its color as I watched.
They made it back, but they were never the same.
Was this the same spell that had infected the last ones who’d crossed the wall, leading them to madness and eventual suicide?
“Elias,” I said, as calmly as I could, “let’s go back to the others.”
“The shadows know we’re here. They know where we’ve gone. Where we’re going. We should return to them—no one escapes them, in the end.”
“…What the hell are you talking about?”
Instead of replying, he broke into a run.
I was too shocked to move at first—until I realized he was sprinting straight for the wall.
“Come back,” I called, taking a few numb, confused steps after him. “ Come back !”
He only ran faster.
I followed against my better judgment, racing all the way to the wall, to the broken gate, and watching as he fell to his knees before it and bowed his head.
A mass of shadows had gathered in the opening. They bulged and billowed furiously, as if some beast stalked at the center, occasionally kicking and clawing and trying to fight its way free. I didn’t need magical Sight to see the tumultuous energy surrounding this beast. To know that this was bad— very bad .
Elias never moved. Never lifted his head again, even as part of the dark mass pinched off and flew toward him, swallowing him up with a ravenous hunger. I watched, horrified, as his body disappeared. His hand reached out at the last second, his fingers stretching desperately toward me, like a drowning victim trying to flag down a savior.
But it was far too late.
He was gone.
A moment passed before the smaller mass began to churn almost as violently as the larger one behind it, swirling into the shape of a small cyclone. It roared and spun, flinging out what was left of Elias—a limp corpse drained of all life and color, which continued to shrivel and fade out of existence as I watched.