Chapter 28
AN UNEXPECTED CONNECTION
PASHIM
The entrance to the gorge gapes like a dark, ominous maw waiting for me to step inside so it can swallow me whole.
There’s a tremor in my belly, but it isn’t fear, strangely enough.
It’s more akin to excitement, as if I’m about to learn something that will alter the course of this new life that I’ve been gifted.
The journey has been long and lonely, but my purpose fuels me. Leela fuels me. Ironic that my actions will undoubtedly push her into another drohi’s arms. That she can never be mine, but it is enough for me to see her thriving, alive and happy. To breathe the same air as her.
I cannot be her lover, so I will be her friend. I will stay as long as I am able. And today, I will muster her an army.
Cold fire blooms beneath my sternum. I glance down at the spiral glowing steady and blue through the fabric of my tunic and leather chest guard. It is a part of me and yet outside of me. Clinging to me. A gift from the djinn in the in-between who are waiting to pass on.
Now it’s time to meet the djinn who stayed. Who refused to cross to the in-between. I step into the shadows cast by the steep cliffs either side of the narrow valley, allowing the gorge to claim me.
The wind picks up instantly, icy needles raking at my skin and frosty fingers tugging at my hair.
Tears rise to protect my eyes. I blink them away, moving steadily forward into the howling rising around me.
The air grows heavier, pressing down on me in pulses, as if testing the integrity of my form.
I don’t speak.
I don’t need to.
They sense me—the intruder to their refuge. They will come with talons and the promise of death. But Death is on my side, and she will not take me. Not yet anyway.
The world goes dark as storm clouds rush in to block out the sun.
Cold gnaws at my skin with tiny eager teeth, and the spiral at my breast reacts, warming properly now, sending pulses of heat out to envelope me, until I’m looking out at the world through a sheen of blue.
Protection against the phantoms rising from the shadows.
They rush at me with spectral talons and weapons glowing with lethal intent.
Faces whoosh past me. Open mouths and dark pits in place of eyes, housing glowing pinpricks for pupils.
Death.
Destruction.
Rage and hunger.
The emotions hammer at my shields, eager to get past them and claw at me. The blue shield pulses, and the spiral turns faster as the specters surround me, their rage ebbing, hunger muting to be replaced with a probing curiosity.
The howl and scream of the wind dies, and silence falls.
My pulse thunders as I’m left surrounded by the phantoms of djinn who fought in a war way before my lifetime.
They stand tall. Powerful. Gray but no longer featureless.
My gaze skims over regal faces. Strong jaws and eyes pinpricked with white.
Long hair braided or pulled up into war knots.
Some carry swords; others hold spears or large shields.
This was an army once.
They fought and died and remained. Why? I’m not sure even they know for certain.
A figure breaks away from the crowd and strides toward me.
His hair is piled high in a war knot. His eyes are slanted and burning pure white.
Blade hilts peek up from his back, and more hang from the holster at his waist. He’s dressed differently than the others with a leather chest plate and gauntlets. His presence demands attention.
A thrill passes through my veins like electricity, charging me to stand taller.
He stops a mere foot outside my shield, his gaze roving over the barrier as if looking for a weakness. He won’t find one because I fuel it. And I am not weak.
Finally, his attention settles on me, his eyes locking with mine, and something flares in the depths of his gaze. A pulse shoots through me, one I would call recognition if I knew this man.
Increment by increment, his shoulders drop, and when he speaks, the silence blooms with the authority of that sound. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
Everything in me stills. “What?”
He smiles, and the glow in his eyes dims and blooms to a stormy blue. “My name is Thomelin, and I am your grandfather.”