Chapter 35
Hell is for Children
Eloise
“There.” Cassius points to a valley of thick forest freckled with towers of red, stony rock formations. From the air, it reminds me of Arizona, if the red rocks were surrounded by the redwoods of California. Nothing exactly like this exists on Earth, although somehow it feels familiar.
I land Phantom on one of the stone towers, and the dragon crawls us down to the forest floor. “Where are we?” I ask.
“They call this Souviette Valley, the place for remembering,” Cassius says.
“What’s to remember?”
He points at the side of the rock we just climbed down.
The stone is carved in waves as if by the wind or water, although that seems impossible, considering the trees here are enormous and loaded with leafy branches.
Any wind or water strong enough to carve stone would also be strong enough to take down the trees.
“A long time ago, this valley flooded. A river to the north marks the edge of the valley. It overflowed, the force of it tearing the forest out by the root. The flood carved these rock formations.”
“It would take thousands of years for water to carve this deep.”
He nods. “Yes, it did. It was before my time. Before my father’s time.”
I look up at the stars through the dense branches, trying to wrap my mind around that.
“When the floods came and knocked down all those trees, the nuts, seeds, and pollen of the plants sank to the bottom, and the decomposing bits of all that greenery built up over time into a rich, wet mash. Eventually, the rains stopped and the water ebbed, and when the trees and shrubs sprouted again from the silt, they grew back stronger and faster than ever.”
I try to picture the tree in front of me as a sapling and can’t. It’s as wide as I am tall.
“The people of the west considered rebuilding homes here. But the elders of the community found an orchid among these trees that they hadn’t seen in a lifetime, one they’d thought was extinct.
They use that orchid to make a tea that helps ailing mothers give birth.
Few medicines can treat shades. To be sure, there are only a few occasions we need medicine, especially if we are well-fed.
But childbirth is rare and dangerous for our kind. ”
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“The orchid was viewed as a gift from the goddess. And it was decided that this forest, this ancient place of remembering, would be left intact, in case it held other memories, other gifts. Other than being used for recreation, it remains untouched and protected.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say. “How does it help us get the children back?”
He takes the bag of vials from Phantom’s saddle and slips his arms through the loops so that he’s wearing it as a backpack.
“This valley is the closest western point to the castle. Remote and difficult to navigate. Nevina wouldn’t bother enchanting this area to detect your presence.
Even if she tried, the flora here would likely break down her spell in a matter of days.
But we’re not far from the castle. I should be able to slip in without detection. ”
He gestures for me to follow him, and I do. But when he breaks into shadow, I’m left behind. He forms again at my side. “Why aren’t you following?”
“I can’t shift at will.”
Cassius curls his lip. “Still?”
“I have shifted before when I’m upset or afraid, but I can’t just do it willy-nilly. I’ve been practicing, but I’ve never been able to pull myself apart.”
“That poses a challenge.” He studies me for a beat. “Our plan, then, is this. You will walk in that direction—” he points east “—until you reach the edge of the forest. Wait there. I’ll meet you when it’s done.”
I agree, and he twists into shadow and is gone.
Technically, I could ride Phantom to the edge of the forest, but I opt to walk.
This valley is the most peaceful place I’ve ever been.
Even the cliffs beside Harcourt Manor harbored the sound of the rushing river below, but here, there is only the occasional skittering animal and the flutter of insect wings.
What will happen to the children once the curse is lifted, darling? Phantom asks in my grandmother’s voice, the words sounding abnormally loud inside my head.
We don’t know, I answer honestly. Cassius is going to add the antidote to their water supply.
We have no idea when the children will drink it.
And once they do, they will likely be incapacitated for some time.
The potion might make them ill. I slept for days after I took it.
But this version is different. Catarina used my blood as a catalyst. We hope it will ease the transition. But if it doesn’t, well…
You want to cure them, but you also want to make sure they can’t be used in battle.
If they’re sick enough, they can’t be infected again. Nevina will have to heal them before she can drug them, and she’ll be too busy fighting the resistance to have time for that.
But what if the children don’t survive?
I rub the sudden ache in my chest and fight back the tears that threaten to fall every time I think of this. We have to have faith that they will. It’s in Thanesia’s hands. There’s no other way.
I reach the edge of the forest soon after and look out across the distance at the tents, which, according to our spies, have been set up to house the children.
The conditions are deplorable. Even at a distance, I can smell the foul odor of unwashed bodies, fecal matter, and rotting food. My stomach clenches.
I can hear what you’re thinking, Eloise, and it’s a bad idea. You told Damien you wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.
I try to push the thought out of my head, but no child deserves to live like this.
I can’t stand the thought of them suffering there.
I am the key. Perhaps I could break the ward without detection, draw the symbol inside the tent, and pass the children into the Borderlands where they could be reunited with their parents.
While they suffer the effects of the detox? While their parents are under attack by the enemy?
I could pass them to Harcourt through the underworld. Ren is a nurse. She could care for them.
And then you’d be drained and unable to defend Damien when he needs you.
I could…
Wait for Cassius as planned. If you get yourself captured, darling, before the war has even begun, you will jeopardize more lives than your own.
But I can’t just leave them there! They’re only children. What kind of monster leaves children in a filthy tent to suffer? A hot tear cuts down my cheek.
You would allow your selfish need to relieve your guilt and sadness in this moment to ultimately damn every one of those children to death?
I turn to stare at Phantom, who has manifested beside me, their dragon head glistening white in the moonlight.
You are the queen of Tenebris, Eloise. All of Tenebris.
Not just these children. If you are captured now, you will undercut all of Damien’s hard-won plans.
You will put the lives of every warrior you brought here from Earth, including Cassius, in more danger.
And you will distract Damien from becoming the king he was meant to be. And for what?
I scoff and gesture toward the tents. To save the children.
You won’t save the children. You’ll simply prolong their suffering.
The truth of Phantom’s words lands like an arrow in my heart. What type of person knows what’s going on in those tents and does nothing?
No one is here to judge you, Eloise, but we believe a person who is strong enough to delay immediate gratification in order to achieve a greater reward is a conscientious adult.
That’s not—
You said it yourself. Curing the children but leaving them is the logical thing to do, the thing that will save the most lives.
They are shades. They will most likely survive.
But it is just as important that you survive to fight another day.
Choose the battles that are most worth winning, my dear.
Fight not only to save these children today but to change this world so they will grow up in a place where they will never have to face this again.
I hate it when you’re right. I swipe my tears from my cheeks.
Oh darling, if you only knew how much we don’t want to be right.
We—generations of your ancestors—only want you to see that the darkness inside you is neither good nor bad.
Your heart, now made of shadows, wants to do what’s right.
You want to bring goodness to this place where light kills, where innocence is weaponized, where beauty masks a venomous poison.
This is not Earth, and you are no longer human.
We only wish for you to see that the shadow in you is your power.
Your ability to wait can change this world.
Like a spider in her web, wait and strike when it matters most. We wish not to be right but to help you understand that the only way to do good in this world is to lead and to rule, and that means putting your faith in the people who fight for you.
Phantom fades from existence beside me. How I ruminate on their words, so similar to George’s.
My shadow heart. I am a product of everything I’ve experienced, my parents’ deaths, my grandmother’s illness, Tony’s hands choking the life out of me, Damien’s love, Maeve’s friendship, facing the goddess, becoming a shade.
Through all of it, I’ve made choices. Not always the right ones.
Not always the smart ones. What’s important is that I’ve learned. I’ve become stronger.
What’s important is making peace with the darkness. But Phantom is wrong about one thing. I am no spider. I am a dragon. And I wait not in a web, but in the skies. And when I choose to unleash my fire, even the gods will fear me.
I turn my attention back to the tent and wait for Cassius. Hours pass. I try to reach out to him down the web of shadows. But I still can’t do it. So I do the only thing I can do—I wait and have faith.
Finally, shadows bleed from under the canvas and twist like a dark mist toward the forest. He forms with nimble grace and hands me the empty bag.
“What took you so long?” I whisper.
Cassius begins walking away from the camp, gesturing for me to follow, putting distance between us and our enemies.
“At first, I did as you suggested. I added the vials to their water sources. It took some time. Hundreds of children are piled up in those tents, Eloise. The youngest are hardly old enough to shift. And Brahm and Nevina have barely fed or cared for them. It is a horrific sight.”
I stop walking. Was I wrong before? Should I have done more?
“But then I saw Gregoris,” he continues.
“Gregoris?”
“Lady Odette’s nephew.”
I remember the boy now. He’d been cleaning my room, his eyes glazed from whatever drug Nevina used to control him. Lady Odette used the planning of the Harvest Festival as an excuse to visit him.
“He appears young,” Cassius says. “I am sure that is why Odette handed him over as a sacrifice—but the man is a trained warrior, an adult. I decided to give him the antidote directly.”
“What? But the concentration—”
“I diluted it first, as you instructed, but I poured it into Gregoris’s mouth, and then I prayed.
” He brings his fists together under his chin and grins at me, a smile that beams like its own star.
“It worked, Eloise! And not violently, as you were expecting. His eyes cleared, and there he was, once a ghost of a man, and now, restored. I covered his mouth because when he saw where he was, he almost screamed. A natural reaction to the horror. But I used the shadows to explain to him what was happening. That’s what took me so long.
He is going to help the others. He is going to lead them. ”
“Lead them where?” I look back toward the tent. “Should we guide them out?”
He grabs my elbow and pulls me deeper into the woods. “No. Lead them into battle. They will pretend to be fighting for Nevina and Brahm. They will follow New Stygarde into battle and then turn on them when the time is right.”
A prickly weight expands in my stomach. “No. It’s too dangerous, Cassius. We have to get them to safety. We can’t have children fighting on our behalf.”
We’ve reached the stone we landed on, and he stops to turn to me. “You’ve always had such a good heart, and your worry for those children is in keeping with your character. Trust me when I say to you that Gregoris and every child in those tents will benefit from being part of the fight.”
“How can you—”
“Every child in those tents needs to feel they’ve had their revenge. After everything, they will never heal if they’re left feeling helpless. This way, they are part of the rebellion. They have agency in their own salvation. Don’t take that from them.”
Phantom appears beside us, and Cassius climbs on first. I draw a deep breath into my lungs, hating this.
It goes against my every instinct to leave the children.
But they are shades, and Cassius knows his kind.
What he says makes sense. And most importantly, there is no other choice that won’t endanger the rebellion.
I climb behind Cassius, and we take to the skies, mission accomplished.