13. Elorie
Elorie
Falling through the prison is like being a stone in the ocean.
My arms do nothing to stop my descent. The weight on my chest is so heavy I can hardly catch my breath. The more I blink, the murkier my vision.
There’s an end somewhere below, but I’ve yet to reach it.
I fall and fall and fall through black obsidian. Consciousness blinks in and out as fast as one falls asleep.
One moment, my mind is alert, a hundred thoughts battle each other. The next, without even realizing it, I slip into one of them, and I’m drifting. Clinging to a memory. It’s distorted and twisted, but it’s carved from something I’ve seen. From places I’ve been.
The hallucination ends as quickly as it began. One after another, I slip in and out of dreams. Until my eyes fly open, and I finally land with a thump on something soft.
The obsidian walls of the prison gleam gold here instead of black. Paintings decorate the walls. A vase at one end of the room is filled with bright-blue flowers, and for a moment, I think they’re morning glories. But the longer I gaze, the more they crumple in on themselves.
No, they don’t crumple.
They drip.
They melt.
Like paint sliding down a canvas, the image is recreated into something else the longer I stare at it.
My fingers splay on the cerulean blanket beneath me. Smooth silk that is nothing like the sharp stone in the prison. A lamp beside the bed casts a warm glow around the room as a door snaps shut, and a figure enters.
“Malachi.”
“Don’t you mean your king?” The gleam in Malachi’s eyes is maniacal.
“You aren’t my king.” My teeth grit. “You don’t deserve your crown or your kingdom.”
He hums, stepping into the room, and I move to the edge of my bed. This vision isn’t like the other memories the prison showed me. Carved from places deep in my mind and brought back to life. This is something different.
“You’re wondering how you’re here.” He crosses his arms, leaning against a bedpost.
“Where am I?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere.” He waves his arms out. “In the prison. The Ley Court. Your mind.”
In a flash, he’s in front of me, tapping my temple. I shove away, putting some space between us.
“Your thoughts seem as good of a place as any for this conversation.”
“You’re in my head?” I glare.
“Or you’re in mine.”
Unease slithers through me. “How?”
Malachi reaches for the orb around his neck. The moment his fingertips touch the opaque glass, it glows so bright his blond hair turns a pale gold. His blue eyes sparkle like a shifting constellation in the night sky.
Fear swells in my belly as the orb twists between his finger and thumb. A gods-touched object, powerful enough to reach me inside the prison. Worse, it reached inside my mind.
I shove that thought down. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?”
“How we can help each other.”
A laugh bursts from me before I can contain it. “I’ll never help you.”
His smile tilts. “Even for the sake of your mate? As you’ve learned by now, playing with death, toying with fate, is forbidden for a reason.”
“And yet you wanted me for that very magic.”
“I want you for many reasons. Consider me curious what could possibly hold Wilder’s attention.” Malachi’s gaze skims downward, and I take a step back. “But yes, I’d settle for your magic.”
I glance at the orb hanging around his neck. “Why do you need me? If that is truly as powerful as I’ve heard, you shouldn’t care about my magic at all.”
His jaw ticks. His nails dig into his palms.
Malachi’s back is stiff, his shoulders tight. He’s dripping with power, but he’s somehow… dark.
Distant?
Something is wrong.
“You can’t contain what you’re trying to control,” I guess. “You think I can help with that?”
“You wield the magic of Voilene.”
I breathe out a laugh because it does not matter.
It might be Voilene’s orb, but I am of Fae blood.
Idunn is proof that wielding her magic does not mean you can wield the orb.
We are not gods. Still, I can’t help but ask, “Even if I could wield the orb, who says I wouldn’t just use it to destroy you? ”
“I have no doubt you would, but that’s only because you don’t understand yet. And you are here to see the truth, are you not?”
“What truth could you possibly show me?”
“That your efforts are wasted.”
“Because fate has already written the ending?”
Malachi smirks. “Because it does not matter what comes of this end. This thread, this realm. These people are simply one of many. Nothing survives but the brutality of the gods.”
“Then I’ll settle for destroying you.” I lift my chin, and Malachi’s grin grows.
“You were much sweeter when you first came to my palace. Pity I didn’t have a taste then.”
“You’re despicable.”
Malachi circles the room, drawing closer. With each step, the air thickens. The pulse from within the orb reaches. A magic deeper than any sea. Vast as the sky.
He nears, and I step back. But he’s cornered me against a wall.
Malachi plants one hand over my head, while the other skims my arm. When I try to move this time, something holds me in place like the prison did when I first stumbled upon Wilder’s cell.
“We need each other whether you resist or not. Once this began, there was no putting it back. Help me, and I’ll craft a whole new realm for you should you wish.”
“By destroying both our homes?”
“What is here for you, Elorie? Reminders of those you’ve lost? Ways you’ve failed. Mistakes you’ve made. The fates are unforgiving, but together, we could craft something new. And there, we can control it all.”
“You’re mad.”
Malachi leans in close. A lingering waft of haelmarrow hangs on his clothes, and I think I get a hint of where he truly is. What he may be doing in this moment as he slips inside my head. He presses near, and my eyes flutter. For a moment, I see the flesh. The bodies. The blood.
A feast.
“We can work together, or we can battle as enemies. Either way, you will come find me because deep down your soul knows you aren’t meant to be his.”
His mention of Wilder breaks me from the mental cage that has me frozen.
I shove Malachi back a step. “Wilder is my mate.”
He smirks, not responding to that. “You’ll need me. And when you do, you’ll have no choice but to come. Where the river meets the sea and the Well drinks us down. At the peak of the full moon, I’ll be waiting for you.”
When he reaches for me this time, I take a step back. His finger snags on the necklace Callum gave me. It tugs for a moment before it snaps, and when it falls from my neck, Malachi fades, and my vision goes black. The necklace is gone in the darkness, breaking me free from Malachi’s grasp.
But now, there may be no way out.
The room disappears, and I’m back between obsidian walls. No longer at my mother’s cell or in the chamber that led to my nightmares. I’m in an endless hallway that reminds me of the jail in the human village. These doors have bars on either side, and there are creatures lurking behind them.
Some stay in the shadows, while others step forward.
Many have pointed Fae ears, but their faces are unique hues in this light. Gray blue that I’ve only seen in the corpses carried out.
A few stand at the edges of their cells, watching me. Whispering in tongues.
I rub my ears but can’t make out what they’re saying. Runes float along the bars. They glow in the floor below, and I feel it pulling me somewhere.
Where is it trying to take me?
The hallways empty, and the cells are long gone now. At first, I think it might be Callum’s necklace starting to guide my way. Until the path ahead finally becomes clear. At the end is a polished patch of stone, surrounded by a circle of runes. Deep in my bones I know where I am.
This isn’t the cell of any prisoner—it’s mine.
I freeze and the hallway tunnels. The end stretches. A rope tugs taut at the other end, pulling me toward it. When I try to take a step back, I can’t.
It would be easier.
The thought bleeds into my mind from somewhere unknown. It’s not a whisper of the prison but a part of myself.
You could stay. Accept it.
My nails dig into my hair as I try to shake the doubt. The harder I push, the deeper its claws settle.
Think of all the pain you’ve caused. Your father ran into that street trying to protect you. He could have lived a long, happy life had you just been burned on the pyre from the start.
“No!” My scream echoes so loudly I cover my ears.
But nothing keeps it out. Nothing stops these doubts from creeping through me.
Isolde suffered enough in her life. Yet you let her die for you. You let her sacrifice herself when the Arches are closed. And now, she’ll never find her mate in Sarrow.
“I didn’t ask her to do that.” I drop to my knees. “I didn’t want her to do that.”
They sacrificed for you.
Bled for you.
Died for you.
Why do you deserve to be here, and they don’t?
“I don’t deserve to be here.” That confession is a whisper.
Is it defeat speaking or me? What’s the difference anymore? I’ve been thriving on false hope, rallying others in a battle I don’t know that I can win. Promising swords will open gates, and rings will protect the village. It’s utterly ridiculous.
The prison’s fingers sink deeper.
My gaze lifts, and the hallway shrinks until the edge of the rune that marks my cell meets my knees. Nudging me. Beckoning inside and promising peace when I know the truth.
There is no peace.
Not here.
Not outside.
There is nothing but raging guilt and constant regrets.
Closing my eyes, I steady my breath, allowing the prison to set me on its tongue and swallow me for a moment. Giving in to the lashing memories instead of fighting them because what am I fighting for?
Malachi seems to think I’ll find him and ask for his help. Idunn thinks my ambitions are laughable. Can I blame them? I’m a human girl, dreaming too big. Fighting to save what’s well beyond me. Taking risks that do nothing but put others in danger.
A tear slips down my cheek, and I’m back in that cave with chains at my wrists and ankles. Stretched over that stone. A peak of jagged rock digs between my shoulder blades. The obsidian belt at my waist rubs my ribs raw. Chains contained the magic I didn’t yet know existed.
But they knew it did.
A budding blossom that would soon destroy everything.
I would destroy everything.
A sob rips from my throat as the prison presses around me. No one is left to face but me and the darkness.
Bending forward, my palms are met with cold stone. I don’t know why I expect it to be warm. Maybe because the longer I’m here, the more this prison is a living, breathing beast. Its temperament is hot on the back of my neck, but the stone is cool to the touch.
Cool and comforting. I could just let this be it.
For the sake of everyone else, I could give in and stay.
I curl my fingers, scratching the edge of the runes before me.
Embers fleck at my touch, growing. Warming.
They spark and spit until they are no longer simply at my fingertips.
The golden light is all around. An incredible warmth seeps through my bones.
It blossoms in my chest from the deepest well.
Not a well—a thread.
It opens in the darkness with a whisper of heat that crawls along the hollow edges, turning them from shadow to light. Creeping like a flame but smelling like static.
Like aether.
Gold cracks like lightning. Thunder rumbles along the sea and settles in my heart. My vision swims with the push and pull. One tether tries to keep me, while another pulls me back.
When I fall this time, it isn’t the prison that catches me. Strong arms cradle my body and hold me close. A flash of gold sparking in a pitch-black sky.
“Wilder.” I curl against his warm chest.
“I promised I’d find you, Starfire.”