Chapter 35 #5
I run my fingers along the slick walls, and when I pull my hand away, it’s coated in a fine, dark powder. I rub my fingertips together, and the powder floats down and lands in the water, where it vanishes like smoke.
The further I walk, the colder it becomes, until I can see my breath fogging in front of me. The water, however, remains comfortably warm. Tiny ice crystals have formed on the walls, acting as mirrors and providing natural light. I search, but can’t find the original light source.
So strange. Even for a dream, this is, oddly, specifically abnormal.
Eventually, the walls narrow, and I’m forced to turn sideways to fit my body through the tunnel. My hands scrape on the stone and come away covered in the dark, ash-like substance.
Another twenty feet, and the narrow passage opens abruptly into a vast underground cavern. A lake stretches in front of me, calm and motionless. Stalagmites hang from the ceiling, droplets of water dripping from their tips to land in the lake.
The water wraps around a single, massive onyx platform that rises from the center like an altar. The warm water relaxes my muscles, curling softly around my thighs as I wade toward the small rocky platform.
I feel drawn to whatever is on that platform, and find myself advancing toward it with a single-minded focus. Like a magnet pulled toward True North. Hauling myself up and onto the stone is easy, but I quickly realize that there’s not much here.
There’s just a large black pillar that extends all the way up to the top of the cave, so high it disappears into the shadows and vanishes into a ceiling I can’t see.
A gentle breeze whips my hair around my face. I can’t tell where it’s coming from, but its warmth has a surreal calming effect.
I press a hand to the surface of the pillar, then yelp and jerk it back. It’s freezing, covered in a layer of the same black soot that coats the walls.
I wipe it off on my shirt and reach out again, this time prepared for the chill. I press the tips of my fingers to the pillar, then flatten my whole palm.
More of the dark mineral flakes off the pillar, revealing the reason behind the freezing temperature.
It isn’t a rock covered in soot. It’s ice.
I squint, leaning closer and wiping away more of the black residue. My breath fogs against the surface. Beneath the soot is a solid mass, at least eight feet across, and built of interwoven rock and ice. It’s like the two fused together over what must have been centuries.
Turning back to the lake, I bend down and scoop up a handful of water. I use it to gently clean the surface of the pillar, wiping away as much of the residue as I can.
After a few passes, the ash disappears, revealing a kaleidoscope of rock and ice. The way it’s woven together plays tricks on my eyes, making it difficult to make out what I’m seeing.
There’s something… silver.
A silver-white, the color is peculiarly similar to the color of my own hair. Too white to be mistaken for ice. It’s an unnatural color, with… is that blue veining in the rock?
I wipe away more ash, unveiling a glowing, spherical shape. It’s huge, round, and shimmering with light.
Is it a gem?
It blinks, and I gasp, taking an instinctive step back.
Fates, it isn’t a gem at all. It’s an eye!
The size is unnatural—far too large for any living creature, with a blue iris the color of frosted sapphires. It blinks again, slow and deliberate.
My head shakes in a fierce refusal of what I can clearly see right in front of me. I can’t look away. I wait, anticipation rising and excitement thrumming under my skin, hardly able to believe my eyes. The next time the eye blinks, the lid opens and—
Snaps straight to me.
The pupil contracts and deliberately focuses on me. It isn’t just looking at me. It’s looking through me. To everything I’ve been, everything I am, and everything I might someday become.
My heart gives an unsteady lurch, and I scramble back, not paying attention to where I’m going. My bare foot slips on the edge of the platform, and I fall back with a high-pitched scream.
Then I’m falling, but not into the water.
The cavern and the world around me start to spin. Stalagmites blur and shift, switching positions so quickly I lose track of which way is up. My mouth dries up in fear, and I squeeze my eyes shut, praying for the spinning to stop. I brace myself, sure I’m about to land painfully—
—and jolt awake.
I shoot up, hands pressed to my chest, breaths coming fast and heavy. Cold air rushes in through the wide-open window of the attic, scattering dust and debris from the broken beams.
My breaths are visible in the air, and I shake with a chill so deep in my bones I wonder if I’ll ever be warm again.
I wipe my sweaty, shaking hands down my shirt, and freeze when I notice that the fabric comes away streaked with something black and grainy.
Holding my hands out in front of me, I gasp in shock. A whine explodes from my chest—an involuntary sound straight from my Omega, broadcasting my confusion and fear.
Because my hands are covered in ash.
The same sooty, black ash that covered the pillar in my dream.