Chapter Seven
Senith
MAGNOLIA
Sentries came to my room later that morning. Dressed in my gown, I waited for what would happen next.
I expected my hides, not the sheer slip Dahes forced me to wear. One of the sentries held out a pair of boots, the other a knife. I took the boots first, throwing them on my feet, before grabbing the knife. At least it was something.
The sentries turned and started walking down the hall, but I knew the drill by now to know that I was expected to follow them.
They stopped in the middle of the outside rotunda, and I braced myself for the smell of rot, knowing what was coming next.
A thatcher—one of the winged monsters Dahes kept—stalked toward me.
They possessed more humanoid forms than beast with their two hind legs, arms, and oval-shaped heads.
But it was in the details that made a thatcher a monster.
They couldn’t speak, only screech, as they flapped their bone-made wings.
Their fingers were replaced with three black talons the size of my forearm, their black beady eyes the size of grapes, and their teeth were rotting and reeked of death.
But it didn’t make the dozens of canines any less sharp.
They all ended in razor points as they smirked like they’d want nothing more than to eat you whole.
They always unnerved me.
I did my cycle of breaths while I waited for the wince, their long talons wrapping around my abdomen and breaking skin. Then the crunch of bones sounded as we were airborne.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.
The thatcher flew me across Moriann, only to stop at the Senith Cliffs, dropping me at the bottom.
“No,” I said as realization dawned on me. Dahes was crazy if he really thought I was going to climb the cliffs. “I’ll fall.”
The thatcher just screeched, its foul breath hitting me before it flew away, leaving me alone to stare up at the cliffs.
Don’t die early on me, little ghost. Dahes’ words clicked.
This was why I was starting a day early. I stared down at my boots as another realization came to me. It wasn’t just the cliffs he was making me climb, I also had to cross the Black Sands.
Frustration coursed through me and any excitement I had about entering Viven immediately vanished as my chances of staying alive long enough to get there went with it.
I knew Dahes didn’t care about me dying. He owned me—dead or alive.
I stared at the looming cliffs, not sure why I bothered braiding my hair as it blew across my face, the strands getting stuck in my mouth. The wind was so strong here that I had to plant my feet, stopping myself from falling over.
The thatcher could have easily taken me above the cliffs and across the Sands, but instead, Dahes was forcing me to do it myself.
I repositioned the knife in my hand and told myself I wasn’t shaking.
It was just the Moriann chill. There was a fifty-fifty chance that if I fell, my Token would manifest. Sometimes I could call it forward when I needed it, sometimes I swore I was a commoner from my lack of control, and other times my Token emerged without me even wanting it to.
It was useless and embarrassing. Not having control over it meant I couldn’t rely on it for protection. I was probably the only Wielder who didn’t know how to use their own power.
The process of getting a Token was random—a random Token, at a random time, at a random age. The only similarity with accessing powers between Wielders was that it would manifest before your Staying Age. If you didn’t get a Token before your twenty-third year, you were fully mortal.
My Token manifested when I was sixteen, one year after my slavery started with Dahes.
I cried the night it happened. Half in relief, half in terror.
I needed it. My power wasn’t manifested from desire, from the Sun Goddess Cupio, but from Nessium, and if it hadn’t come that night…
I couldn’t fathom what he would have done to me…
But it also meant my deal would last a thousand years instead of the commoner hundred. As long as I didn’t do anything to get myself killed earlier than expected, but even then, it would just be changing my body for a less tangible version…
I didn’t know what was worse.
And now, staring at the looming height of the cliffs, I wished I had learned control more than ever.
But it wasn’t like Dahes was going to teach me.
He didn’t want me to have my Token. It was probably the only thing he hated about me because whenever I was transparent, he couldn’t touch me.
It made him obsessive while viewing me as disposable—because when I died, I wouldn’t have my Token as protection anymore.
I gave myself thirty seconds to calm my heart before I sent a prayer to the two Suns and started climbing.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. Exhale.
The fog swirled from the wind, giving me sporadic glimpses of the top and I told myself it was for the best. I didn’t want to know how much more I had to climb or how far I already had.
Just focus on the next movement, the next reach of my hand…
The boots helped. I was able to find purchase with my feet and hoist myself up.
I kept the knife in my right hand, embedding it into the rock with each upward motion I took.
I didn’t let myself dwell on the fact that it was completely ruining it, that if I made it to the top, I wouldn’t be able to use the blade anymore.
One problem at a time.
I went to push up with my leg, pulling myself upward, when a piece of the rock crumbled and my foot slipped out from under me. I barely caught the hilt of my knife with both hands before I was left dangling against the rock.
My scream echoed off the cliffs and died in the thick air. I was alone. If I fell, no one would witness it. No one would know.
Except Dahes would know…
Come on, Magnolia, pull yourself up. I let out a sob as my foot found a piece of rock that wasn’t loose and I started climbing again.
I wanted to give up. My arms throbbed and my hands were completely blistered that the idea of continuing to pull myself forward sounded worse than falling into the dead river.
At some point, I started sweating. The cold of Moriann was slowly shifting into a blistering heat the higher I climbed. Then the fog vanished and the wind lessened. I could feel the suns shining down on me, but I couldn’t risk the time to stop and be in awe of it.
I reached my hand higher and found nothing but air. I tilted my head, allowing myself to look up for the first time since I started the climb. There was a foot of rock left before I reached the top and it all turned to sand.
I pulled my body the rest of the way, collapsing as I fell onto the black grains. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed like that, too tired to care that I was inhaling it. At some point I started coughing. It wasn’t until my arms and legs stopped shaking that I could finally roll onto my back.
Then I laughed, and I was pretty sure it was hysteria.
I made it.
I climbed the Senith Cliffs.