15. Princess Esemeray #2
Esemeray obeyed, following Aria. Behind her, shadows spilled from her room, licking at her heels. Her voice was nothing more than a shaky whisper. “Mr. Pebbles…”
“He is gone. You must keep moving.” Aria tugged at her hand, moving fast.
They turned, Aria halted her steps, hands flying to a massive painting. With trembling arms, she slid it to the side, revealing a door.
How had she gone her entire life—all those years of rambunctious exploration with Elora, yet never stumbled upon this?
Esemeray was too numb to care why there had been a hidden doorway in the castle.
With one push, the door slid open. “Go. Now!” Aria yanked Esemeray inside the stairwell, slamming the door shut. Bound to descend further into the cold darkness, Esemeray was reminded of her mother’s wretched, tainted soul.
“I hate her,” Esemeray rasped, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“I know,” Aria said breathlessly, running down the stairs.
Esemeray braced her hand along the stone walls and kept pace as best she could.
Esemeray’s mind spun, as they reached the last of the steps, stumbling through a dark, underground tunnel.
Aria panted, pushing another door until it creaked open.
Bright sunlight flooded the shadows. She turned, eyes full of sorrow, and swallowed thickly.
“Listen to me. You need to find Torin Rey. He will help you, guide you. It is not safe here anymore.” Her breath faltered.
“Fly east to Levaruin. There is a village by the coast; you cannot miss it.”
Esemeray had an idea where Levaruin was, she had seen it many times on the map—west of Theradonia, over the mountains—but that was the extent of her knowledge.
Esemeray reached for Aria’s hand, squeezing tight. “Come with me.”
“I cannot.” Aria shook her head. “I will only slow you down.” Her eyes softened, lips trembling. “I will find you.”
Thundering steps echoed through the tunnel, and Aria jerked her head, fear etched across her features. “You must hurry!”
Esemeray clenched her chest. “It’s been so long since I’ve last shifted.”
A small, sad smile formed across Aria’s face. “Just close your eyes and imagine anything you want to be.” She angled her head toward the sky. “But preferably something with wings.”
Esemeray sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes.
She thought of the owl, Elora’s favorite bird, the tawny wings and haunting eyes.
She focused on every cell in her body, imagining her arms as wings and her feet sprouting talons.
Black mist flooded her vision, and her bones groaned.
In a painless flash, her human form was gone, replaced by an owl.
“Fly, Esemeray!” Aria shouted.
But she didn’t fly, she couldn’t. The thought of leaving Aria behind was like plunging into the depths of Razareth. Her wings remained unmoving, frozen in place.
Aria shooed her. “Leave now!”
With building pressure in her heart, Esemeray beat her wings hard, ascending high into the skies.
“Fly!” Aria shouted, the sound of her voice becoming distant with each hard flap.
With her bird’s eye view, Esemeray glanced down to Aria, who was nothing more than a speck on the manicured grass.
Far as she was, she was certain several guards rushed out and threw Aria to the ground.
Esemeray let out a gut-wrenching shriek to the skies, pain lancing through her chest, and headed north.
The skies were periwinkle from up high, and the clouds clotted like cotton balls. Esemeray flew toward Levaruin. As breathtaking as the scenery was, it did not soothe her broken heart nor ease the hole inside of her stomach.
Some people would call Esemeray disgusting for holding mice, and crazy for befriending one.
She didn’t care. From an early age, Esemeray saw the soul first, the creature second.
Perhaps it was part of her gift—something only a shapeshifter was capable of.
After all, she took on limitless forms, but her soul only took one.
Mr. Pebbles had a pure, innocent spirit, and her mother…
People are cruel.
She reminded herself.
Cruel.
The tears came faster than she could seem to blink them away.
Despite how long she’d dreamed of seeing them, she didn’t admire the blossoming, white speckled trees in the distance.
All she could see was Mr. Pebbles’s sweet, beady eyes bulging out of his perfect round head, his struggle to break free from her mother’s vicious hold.
The thought of her mother made her insides twist and turn with hatred and fury.
She didn’t even blame her father for sleeping with Colette.
Damn her to hell.
A flock of birds scattered into the skies from a canopy of trees, as if something had startled them away.
Distant shouting sounded from below. She almost forgot how good her owl’s hearing was.
She scanned the treetops. She knew she shouldn’t bother, knew she should keep flying toward Levaruin, but her instincts told her to fly toward the commotion.
She tilted her wings descending from the skies, listening carefully.
Thousands of wispy trees surrounded her, blanketing the sunlight. Even the air around her felt thicker. Muggy. She found a branch and perched, scanning the swamp grounds.
This must be Eldritch.
Her eyes widened as she noticed two men covered head to toe in blood, fighting swamp creatures.
They moved fast, lurching toward the males.
Thinking fast, Esemeray recalled the name of the creature.
Her stomach plummeted. Ammits. The deadly beasts who sleep during the day, and hunt at night.
Traveling through Eldritch during daylight was a firm rule in her father’s kingdom.
What disrupted them?
Glancing at the men, Esemeray’s pulse skittered.
Their builds were oddly familiar. Tall. Muscular.
Handsome. She knew those men. Her heart jumped, lodging into her throat as she narrowed her eyes on Riggs who was moving like the wind, calm and lethal.
With every flick of his wrist, he hit his target. Never missing his mark.
Esemeray had never seen anybody with an aim like that. Her wings fluffed of their own accord, and she let out a hoot she hadn’t meant to make.
Regaining her mental focus, her gaze swept to Killian, who swung his sword as graceful as a dancer.
Esemeray had never witnessed anyone fight like them.
More ammits emerged on shore.
They were outnumbered.
She scanned the ammits, her heart thundering. She took in every detail of their scaly bodies—and knew what she needed to do.