10. Chapter 10
ten
When I woke, I found myself in a small, grimy room with no furniture in it whatsoever. As I glanced around, I realized it was a cell, complete with bars—iron bars laced with magic—blocking me in. I was likely in the castle, in a prison cell in the dungeon.
An emptiness accompanied my feeling of disembodiment that I hadn’t felt before. Before, I had vague, dampened memories from the land of the living. I could remember the feel of...
Of what? Of something. I struggled to place the sensations that had tethered me to the land of the living, but they were gone—a murky blur that existed in the back of my mind. I couldn’t access them; I only knew they were there, and that angered me further.
I banged my hands against the bars, a guttural cry spilling out of me. I was missing something. Something important, and I didn’t even know what.
After the ruckus I made, it didn’t take long for someone to come find me. A figure in a cloak, this one moved differently than all the other spirits here, as if he wasn’t truly a spirit. Something niggled in the back of my brain, like maybe I knew him and had forgotten?
“The feelings of discomfort you’re feeling are due to your spirit being disconnected from your human body,” he said. “The memories you’re clinging to now will fade swiftly. This is the worst of it, and then soon enough, you won’t remember at all.”
“The discomfort I’m feeling?” My fingers gripped the bars. My voice was shrill. “You ripped my spirit out of my body, and you think it’s discomfort I’m feeling?”
“Consider this a detox from the land of the living. By the time we let you out of here, you won’t even know what you’re missing.
The yearning will fade. The memories will fade away, like a rock tossed in a river.
There are ripples at first, and then eventually, nobody remembers a rock ever pierced the surface. ”
“Who are you?” I stared at him, trying desperately to remember that voice. But it was distinctly tied to my time in the realm of the living, I knew that much. And those memories were but a distant fog in my brain. “I have help.”
“Yes, we know,” he said. “The potion you took was helpful for you to get down here, but the girl’s powers waned once she was here. Unlike you, she did not give her spirit to enter the realm completely.”
Liza . The name hit me like a brick. I clung to it. Liza . I said it aloud. “Liza!”
I repeated it, unwilling to let the memory of the girl go. I closed my eyes, and I could feel it. That softness of a child’s hand in mine; my only lifeline to the world from which I’d come.
“Your memories are strong, but not surprising, given the extent of your power,” he said. “A Fae Queen has always been quite in tune with the spirit realm.”
Fae Queen. I repeated the words to myself.
I didn’t want to give anything away, but the more he talked about the land of the living, the more I remembered it myself.
My ancestors were here with me. Sisters , I thought silently.
This man didn’t seem to know about my connection to them, so maybe he hadn’t been able to sever that connection like he had my more tangible one with Liza.
I needed to keep him talking. The more words he repeated that jogged my memories, the more I felt, if not whole, then halfway there. I couldn’t let myself forget entirely. I had a feeling if I did, then he was right. This place would swallow me in one gulp.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs. He’d confirmed what I’d already known somewhere inside myself. That this man wasn’t a complete stranger to me.
“I remember you,” I whispered. “But I don’t know who you are.”
He barked a dry laugh. “Yes, that’s why I’m very good at what I do. People tend to view me as invisible.”
The name of someone hovered in the back of my mind. I couldn’t remember what the name had to do with anything, except that it summoned a sense of visceral distaste in my mouth.
“Fenlon?”
The man barked a laugh at that. “Even that idiot gets a place in your memory, while I do not. I am, apparently, entirely forgettable.”
“Not Fenlon.”
“Certainly not. Thankfully not. The man doesn’t have two brain cells to rub together. How he managed to gather any sort of following is beyond me.”
I still couldn’t exactly place Fenlon, except that it was a person I hadn’t liked before in my previous life. No, I quickly corrected. In my current life. I would return to that life.
I was also under the impression that this man didn’t like Fenlon all that much, either.
But if he was not Fenlon, then who? Names eluded me.
Faces eluded me. The eyes, though, were familiar.
I’d seen them before. The memory felt stronger because it was tied to a spirit memory, and that’s when I knew—the spirit on the chariot.
“You’re the Harbinger,” I said. “You were present at my coronation. Also at the Procession of Spirits. You were watching when the kraken attacked me. Were you responsible for the kraken?”
“It’s a start, I suppose.”
“What is your name?”
“Now, now,” he said. “I think we’ve spoken too much. I will let you linger here until your memories are but a puff of smoke, and then I will bring you to him.”
“Him. The Darkest Lord? Your boss?”
“Not exactly my boss.” The man sounded a bit annoyed. “When this is complete, we will be partners.”
I gave a short laugh. “I barely have a memory. I’ve never met the Darkest Lord. But even I can tell you that a person like that doesn’t work with a partner. You are at his beck and call, and you always will be. It’s in your very name.”
“I won’t always be the Harbinger.”
The annoyance returned. I’d struck a nerve.
“I’ve put in my years of service, and when he has succeeded, I will ascend to serve at his right hand.”
“Lies,” I said. “That will never happen. He’s telling you lies. I, however, can help you if only you’ll let me.”
“Can you, now?” That curiosity was back. The glimmer in those eyes. “How do you figure?”
“I opened a portal,” I said. “You saw it. I released many spirits.”
“I don’t want to be released. I am happy where I am.”
“I can help you in other ways. I can help you get to the land of the living. I’m a Fae Queen. I have powers others don’t have.”
He clucked his tongue, but I couldn’t tell if he was intrigued or not.
“Fine, then at least tell me this: why? If my memories are to fade swiftly, it matters not if you tell me. Why does he—and you—want to attack the realm of the living? I don’t understand what it gets you in return to help him.”
“Of course you don’t because you are not one of the forgotten.
You don’t glide through life as a forgotten ghost, even during the years you are living.
You are not forgettable—your name is mentioned by hundreds, thousands.
Your face will be remembered. You live in a world of color and joy and your name will live on after you die. Everyone else is not so lucky.”
I licked my lips. “That’s why he’s attacking us? Because he’s angry?”
“The Darkest Lord was banished to rule over the crumbs of the living realm, of course he is bitter. Who would choose to rule over the dissatisfied spirits he’s forced to collect?
You’ve seen this world. Color? Joy? Nonexistent.
To have real, true power, the only way is through the land of the living. ”
“Why now?”
“The wards have broken down, thanks to you. When you gain power, you will be too strong for him. You will defeat him with a beat of your heart. But until you understand how to wield your powers, there is a sliver. An opening. The first opportunity he’s had in centuries to bring his spirit army to land. ”
“But how? The spirits haven’t been able to last on land. Flesh-weaving?”
“A vulgar term for an incredible process. One I perfected myself.”
“You are the one who altered the genetic makeup of the kraken and the crimson lycanthrope. You must be.”
“You’re catching on,” he said. “Still no idea who I am?”
I gave a brief shake of my head. I couldn’t figure out if this admission disappointed. He seemed to be playing a game with the two of us, but I didn’t know the rules.
“Did you create the flesh-weaving process?” I asked. The more he talked, the more his voice clanged in my head like the sound of a familiar bell. Sooner or later, I’d get a glimpse of it—his name. His identity.
“I can’t say I created it from scratch, but I have made incredible improvements to the process. It’s an intricate and complex procedure. It’s taken on a rather vile reputation, but in my opinion, that’s far from the truth. If you really break it down, it’s really closer to a miracle.”
“ Why?” I paused. “I understand the process is intricate and complex, and probably very challenging. But I can’t understand the why behind it. Why would you ever need, or want, to create such a process?”
“The work I’m doing could be viewed as beautiful. Giving bodies to spirits who have forgotten what it’s like to exist in the realm of the living.”
“But you’re not doing that. You’re not really doing anything of the sort. What you’re creating won’t last; you’re simply creating an army that the Darkest Lord can use against us. Do you know if that’s even something these spirits desire?”
“What spirit banished to the underworld would ever give up the chance to enter the realm of the living? Via any way possible? Sacrifices must be made to achieve great things.”
“I don’t know, but I do know that the spirits I interacted with today were relieved to be free from here. They willingly went through the portal, knowing they’d never enter the land of the living again. Some things are not worth the sacrifice.”
The man clucked his tongue against his teeth. It struck me the way his characteristics seemed more human than the other spirits that surrounded us. Like he wasn’t a spirit exactly, or he was so new here he hadn’t yet forgotten the ways of the living realm.