37. Jasper
Chapter thirty-seven
Jasper
M y body is aflame with her magic, but it’s bearable knowing I love her. Reina goes slack in my arms and her fire gutters. When the flames die out, the darkness is nothing more than ash. The moons slide in front of our sun, casting the world in a blood-red glow.
Purple magic twists around our bodies and the aching char of my flesh eases a measure. I’m not fully healed, and neither is Reina, but we’re serviceable.
Al’shan’hai’goi lowers his head to the stones, and pushes his tongue out, depositing us onto the crumbled roof of the palace.
“Thank you,” I whisper with my head bowed.
His violet eyes lock on me as his massive maw draws away. “Do not thank me yet, little one. Fate has much in store for you. I merely helped along the way.”
The thought of my sister, my mother, my kin all wasting away in the dungeons spurs me on. “Please, help a little more. Where are my people?”
Al’shan’hai’goi looks to the south, to a particularly thick parapet around a castle tower. “There.” He reaches down and scoops us up into his hand, then lumbers forward. His thick legs eat up the distance easily.
I look down at Rei. She’s unconscious, her magic expended, her skin reddened and angry. I want to heal her more. I want to take away the pain she must be feeling, even in sleep, but I can’t. I gave her everything I had.
Al’shan’hai’goi told me to give her my magic, to give her my heart and love her wholly, so I did. And she took from me. I felt the drain. But with it, she defeated the queen’s monstrous storm. We sent a piece of her back to hell for good, but the dark goddess is still alive.
Her aspect was destroyed, but her body, the queen in Fynren, is still alive. She has a foothold in this world, and despite her plans being changed, she will not stop.
I hold Rei closer.
Vessel, she called her. My sunshine, my mate. She will not have her. She will not possess her. I will destroy all of Gaien before I let some wretched monster take my love from me.
My love.
My love.
I push the hair out of Reina’s face and gaze down at her placid features.
“Wake up, sunshine,” I whisper. “We’re not done yet.”
“Mmph?” She blinks her eyes separately and looks up at me. “What happened?”
I smile. “You defeated a dark goddess’s apparition. And now it’s time to save the captives.”
She sucks in a hard breath and sits up.
Al’shan’hai’goi stomps down on the tower and splits it open. Golden guards fly, none of them moving. They’re all without power because Vansen is dead.
He drops us down in the area he’s destroyed. “I will wait to unleash my anger upon this island. Get them out.”
I stagger out of his palm, holding Reina against my side.
“Must find them,” I say, unable to form full, coherent thought.
“I know,” Reina says, looking around the destroyed stone.
“There,” she says, pointing to a pile of rubble.
We grab the stones together, pulling them down carelessly, noisily. It doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no one to hear the noise—except perhaps the two black-haired humans that saw us into the palace.
“I will patrol and keep you safe, little one,” Al’shan’hai’goi says.
I turn and take in his enormity. His massive face that could’ve held ten men inside his mouth. His dark scales that protect him from the sharp teeth of his enemies. The crystals along his back that channel his magic. He is a wonder.
Our gazes connect, his purple eyes locking on me.
“You’re a god, aren’t you?”
Al’shan’hai’goi cocks his head at me, his stare somehow soft. “I am what is called a god, but our power comes from those who know us. Who call us. Like you did to me.”
I called him?
I wanted to get back to Reina. I needed help. Did I call on the power of a god? Did one actually reply? Is she worth so much?
Of course she is.
There’s no doubt in my mind.
“I’ve got it!” Reina calls.
I turn back and grab the stone she’s holding. We pull until the rubble shifts and we see a stairway. I can feel them—my people. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as we descend the dark stairs. Torches flicker at the bottom and I grab one, then hand the other to Reina.
It’s stone all around us, but the electricity of my clan, my family, is so near. We reach an intersection with two paths, one that smells wet to the right, and the other ahead that’s dry.
“Mother!” I call in our tongue.
A soft wail bounces off the walls to the right.
They’re here. My family.
My body is beaten and drained, but the draw of their voices spurs me on. I grab Reina’s hand and charge down the right hallway. Something glints on the wall at another intersection and I find a key ring hanging on a hook beside a doused torch. I light the new one with mine, then grab the keys.
“Here,” a weak voice calls ahead in my people’s tongue.
We stumble forward in the dank dungeon until we reach a locked pen. Sloshing water and reflective eyes greet us on the other side.
“Just hang on,” I say.
I push the first key into the lock and twist, then the next, and the next. My hands are trembling.
“Let me,” Reina says, taking the keys. Her hands are steady and sure. She’s strong and determined.
I hold the torch higher and investigate the cell beyond. There’s a lowered pool and at least ten of my people are pressed up against the edge, their sallow, sunken faces full of hope. A heavy chain is wrapped around a wheel and connects to the back wall where a dark gate lies. The placid rippling of the still sea beyond filters in.
“Got it,” Reina says as the tumbler clicks. She pulls open the door and steps aside for me to enter first.
The stink of waste, carcasses, and more is pungent here. I hold the torch above the pool, and the selkies avert their gazes, shielding themselves from the bright light.
None of them are my mother. Nor my sister, or father. My swelling heart breaks, but I know I can’t let my body rest until they’re free. They’re not my family, but they are my people.
I pass Reina my torch and move to the wheel at the left side of the room. It has to lift the gate. It has to.
“We’re too weak to swim far, my prince,” one of the older females says. I recognize her now despite the changes in her body. Hai’na, our history keeper. “He detained us here for disobeying. It’s been many weeks.”
“Can you shift? We can carry you out.”
Hai’na shakes her head. “There is nothing left of us.”
“Don’t say that! We can get you out. We can—we can ask Al’shan’hai’goi.”
“What’s happening?” Reina asks.
“They can’t swim,” I tell her.
Her face shifts from concern to resolve. “Then we’ll carry them.”
“Little ones,” booms the echoing voice of the god of the deep. “A vessel is approaching.”
Fuck.
“Hai’na, where are the rest of you?” I ask.
“The other pens are on this level. But he sends us out when his magic takes hold,” she says, lifting an orange pendant that’s chained around her neck. “They may not be here.”
He was controlling them. But how?
No. No time to worry about that now.
“ Al’shan’hai’goi ,” I scream out the gated exit. “My people need your help. Please! Lend your strength one more time!”
The water ripples and swells until the purple eye of the god monster appears behind the gate. My people scream and dive out of the way, and some even try to crawl up onto the stones. Many bow their heads, but they all say his name with fearful reverence.
The purple eye scans the room appraisingly, then falls on me. “They are very sick,” he says.
“Yes, but we can heal them. We can save them. Please, if you can carry them,” I beg, desperation flooding me.
“Carry them where, little one?” he asks.
Gods, I don’t know. I don’t know.
“The mainland. If we can get there, I can heal them—we can heal them,” I say, grabbing Reina’s hand. She has no idea what’s being said, but she holds my hand steadfastly and nods in agreement.
Fuck. I love her.
“There are creatures detained here that cannot swim, and I cannot carry them all,” the god says.
“Then carry the sick,” Reina says and I look at her with surprise. She understands my people’s words? Or is the god speaking in a tongue that is universally known? “We’ll find a ship for the rest. There must be one here somewhere.”
He grunts in agreement. “Very well. Release them to me, and I will carry them and follow you, then return to this place to destroy it.”
Reina runs to the crank wheel and throws down her torch. She grabs one of the spokes and looks at me, waiting.
I turn to my people in the pool. “He’s going to keep you safe.”
Hai’na bows to me and turns to the rest of our people. “Even if we die, at least we will not suffer here any longer.”
The others nod in agreement, some having much more spark in their eyes than others. At their behest, I grab one of the lower spokes and lift as hard as I can. The wheel turns and Reina uses her weight to keep it in place as I grab the next spoke down. The gate grinds and shifts, water sloshing off it as it rises.
My muscles burn from the effort, but I keep pulling until the gate is just above the water. “Go now,” I grunt out.
Hai’na leads the way, her tail marred with scars and missing chunks. Some of them will be beyond healing. Some of them will die. A selkie that can’t swim is like a bird that can’t fly—easy prey.
I grit my teeth and banish the thought. Perhaps some of them will just have to live as humans for the rest of their lives. That’s not so bad. They can join Reina and I in her court of liars until we clean out the filth and remake it.
The last selkie swims under the barrier and my straining muscles give out. I drop to my hands and knees, panting heavily. Reina crouches beside me, her dress in bloody, inky tatters.
“There are still more prisoners to free.” Her fingers are warm on my chin as she lifts my head. “Get up, my love. I know you can.”
“ Your love?” I ask with a heavy pant.
“You heard me,” she says with a grin that lights up my whole being. Her eyes are so full of hope, so bright. She’s as brilliant as a hundred thousand stars in the void of night. As beautiful as an aurora of the far north.
With her confidence to bolster me, I take one last gulp of air and rise onto my knees, then gain my feet. “Lead the way, my queen.”