Chapter 14
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule fourteen: When speaking with potential allies, try not to give them second-hand embarrassment.
I’m stuck.
The walls are pressing in on me, and there isn’t enough air.
The billowing layers of my dress are smothering me. But no matter how hard I keep trying to shove away the panic, to hide it somewhere – anywhere, it won’t work.
I’m suffocating.
I want to sob, but the gasps get stuck in my throat.
Will they even come back for me? Leon might be able to track my ring, but if the meeting goes long, he might not even notice I’m gone until morning.
I can’t stay in here that long.
Violent tremors try to wrack through me, but the space is too cramped to allow for movement. Once again, I try and fail to take another breath, instead choking on the invisible vice around my neck. All I manage is a small, stuttered inhale.
It’s enough to realize I’m no longer alone.
Someone is quietly singing a haunting melody, directly outside the door. Recognition momentarily distracts me from my terror. They’re singing The Sound of Silence – a song from my realm.
The soft notes surround the darkness, and I manage another small breath.
It’s still not enough. Closing my eyes, I focus on the music, trying to forget where I am.
There’s a soul-deep pain in their voice that calls to my own, but it’s underlain by the smallest echo of hope.
As if despite a lifetime of suffering, this person hasn’t given up.
The sense of connection might just be oxygen deprivation, but I’ll take it.
Only, I’m no longer hyperventilating. The realization is enough that I manage to choke out, “Please, whoever is out there. Please let me out.”
The singing stops. “I can’t. Not yet. I’m sorry.”
It’s Nymara. She must have doubled back.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and the crushing weight of defeat presses down on me.
She won’t help. All she does is watch. She knows what’s happening, and from the regret in her voice, she knows it’s wrong.
And still, she lets it happen. She’s complacent – and that makes her as evil as the others.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
There’s a soft, bitter laugh, followed by the sound of fabric shifting against wood. She must be leaning back against the door.
“You’ve had to deal with Lilanthara for less than an hour. I’ve had to put up with her for nearly my entire life. This punishment is child’s play, compared to what I’ll suffer if I go against her.”
A slight pang of guilt hits me at how quickly I judged her. I can’t even imagine what her experiences have entailed. “Why don’t you run?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Why don’t you?” She sounds like she already knows the answer.
My brow lifts. Need must be blackmailing both of us. I wonder what she could be holding over Nymara.
The unanswered question hangs between us, and as the silence stretches on, I start to feel the walls again. The cramped space sends a fresh wave of fear through me, and I gasp.
“Tell me about your home in the Mortal Realm,” Nymara asks quickly.
I frown, wondering why she’s interested, and give her a stilted answer between my quick inhales. “I… was in college.”
“Oh awesome, what were you taking?” She prods.
Confused, I answer her, only for Nymara to continue peppering me with seemingly inane questions. So, I tell her about my school, the classes, the ocean, and working as a barista.
“Have you ever tried an oat-shaken espresso? They’re my favorite,” she asks, and the question jars me.
“How do you know so much about the Mortal Realm?” My legs are numb, and I try to shift, willing blood back into them.
I’m unsuccessful.
There’s a moment of silence before she hedges, “I spent some time there, on a mission for Need.”
I wait to see if she’s going to elaborate, but instead, she starts asking me about books. It doesn’t take much prompting before she has me giving her a play-by-play of my favorite series. I’m mid-sentence when the door swings open, and I topple out of the tiny prison.
“The sun should be set now,” Nymara says by way of explanation, as she backs up a step.
I try to stand, but everything hurts, and my cramped muscles aren’t in the mood to listen to me.
Her expression grows concerned as she watches me try to stand. Despite my obvious struggle, she doesn’t offer any help.
I end up using the wall to pull myself back up. Still, I give her a tentative smile. “Thank you for helping me get through that.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, it’s as if a switch is flipped, and all the emotion is wiped from her face. Her eyes go flat, shuttering something behind them. “Don’t get used to it. We aren’t friends.”
Even though I’m a bit taken aback by the emotional whiplash, I nod. This was a one-time thing. She probably can’t risk helping me again. The knowledge that Need is blackmailing her softens the blow to some degree.
It still sucks, though.
At my lack of pushback, Nymara’s shoulders sag with relief. She looks like she’s steeling herself before she meets my eyes. “There’s… well, you still have a few hours until you need to return to your chambers. Did you… did you want to do anything specific? There aren’t any more appointments today.”
Her voice is stilted, like she’s out of practice. And honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever heard so many words come out of her mouth or seen her make eye contact while speaking.
It’s not grounds for exchanging BFF bracelets, but I’ll take it.
My thoughts are interrupted by another whispered hint of static, only this time, it’s accompanied by the slightest tug on my hand.
Nymara doesn’t flinch. Something down here is calling to me, and she can’t hear it.
The tug came from somewhere down the hall, but it’s even darker than before. Nymara has an orb, but it’s giving off just a trickle of light, as if it’s running out of batteries.
I purse my lips, considering my answer. While I highly doubt Nymara will tell me whether Irena is down here, maybe there’s some gray space here. Maybe she’ll let me poke around, if neither of us mentions the whole ‘I’m probably up to no good thing.’
“I’d like to explore more of the castle,” I answer, trying to keep my tone lighthearted.
Nymara remains expressionless and shrugs. “Certainly, the main floor–” she starts, turning back toward the stairs.
“Here!” I blurt, interrupting her.
She freezes, and her shoulders go rigid. Her brow is furrowed when she turns to look back at me.
Tactfulness may not be one of my strengths. Regardless, I press on. “I want to explore more of this tunnel.”
Her eyes narrow for a moment, until her brow raises, as if she’s figured something out. “You want to explore this tunnel. A tunnel that is protected by no magic and can be accessed by anyone in the castle. This is where you want to explore?”
I swallow thickly. My new frenemy thinks I’m an idiot. Still, there’s something down here that’s calling to me. Maybe it’s Irena. Maybe she knows I’m Rosie’s friend, and she’s drawing me to her. It’s a long shot, but it’s the best I have.
“I do,” I answer. But when Nymara looks like she’s going to die of second-hand embarrassment, I quickly add, “Unless, of course, you have a better place for me to explore. One that will be more worth my time.”
Her gaze flicks around the hall before returning to me.
“There is nothing down here that should concern a Creator. It would be inappropriate for someone of your stature to go digging around in useless corners. But if you’re looking to explore a more appropriate area, then I know of a place that will surely reveal itself to be so much more than it seems.
Her emphasis isn’t lost on me, and I give a slow nod. “That sounds perfect. Please, lead the way.”
I follow her out of the tunnel, ignoring the soft tug on my hand that pulls me in the opposite direction.
I should have stayed in the damned tunnel.
Also, I think aliens abducted Nymara and replaced her with a chattier alien host.
Some girls get all the luck.
For some reason, she decided I needed to see the East Wing. She didn’t stop talking from the moment we reached the main floor, pointing out different landmarks and orienting me as to where in the castle we were.
At first, I thought this was the breakthrough I’ve been desperate for. I figured Irena must be hidden in the East Wing, and Nymara was making sure I could find her.
Two hours later, I’m ready to gag my tour guide. The only thing in the East Wing are halls upon halls of paintings. She has been lecturing me about their history, non-stop.
Look, I love history, but there are about a million things I need to be doing right now – apocalypse-avoiding things. A girl needs to prioritize.
We’re on the third floor now, and I stifle a sigh as I spot a golden coat of arms. It’s yet another weird knock-off from my home realm.
“You mentioned you spent time in the Mortal Realm, so, do you know why so much of the castle looks like places there?” I ask, figuring this topic technically still counts as art history.
Nymara considers my question and gives a slight shrug, like she’s decided she can answer this one.
“The Otherworld is a melting pot of powerful creatures from all the realms. As such, we’re heavily influenced by different cultures.
The Mortal Realm is the only one we’ve never been allowed to frequent.
So, naturally, it’s the one that everyone is obsessed with.
The powerful look down on the mortals, but your contraband is a hot commodity.
And of course, most of the spirits that end up here are brought in from the Mortal Realm.
That alone tends to drive the fashion market. ”
“How are the spirits brought in?” I ask, trying to sound only mildly curious, even when my stomach pinches. The missing spirits aren’t quite as urgent as stopping a war, but I don’t want to squander an opportunity to learn more.