Chapter 5
Pockets of the Empty appeared all over the world, creating impassable seas and encroaching on what livable land remained. But the most terrifying thing about them was the lack of warning.
No tremors shook the earth. You did not feel the ground heave beneath your feet before it collapsed.
One minute, the normal world was there, and the next, it was simply gone.
Eleos leaned forward, pressing his legs against mine to hold me steady in the saddle as our horse flew through knee-high water.
Ducking my head, I glanced behind us, watching the Empty swallow the marshlands.
Blue water evaporated as the void reached it, and trees disintegrated into debris on the wind.
A black line cleaved through the marsh, opening a terrible canyon that gazed upon a silent sea.
A still sea, disturbed not by the slightest ripple.
Our horse screamed, throwing itself into a desperate sprint. It bucked, almost throwing me from the saddle. Grabbing its mane, I clung on for dear life.
“The Bloodstone!” I shouted into the horse’s neck.
“Mistress Seraphim has it,” Eleos said.
How did he sound so calm?
Staring past the wildly flying mane, I searched for the other woman. I caught a glimpse of a black horse darting between two willows, kicking up water as it leapt over a fallen log. A red braid whipped in the breeze and vanished into the trees.
Glancing back, I noticed the consuming void had slowed its pace. The distance between us and the drop off into the dead waters had grown.
Maybe we wouldn’t need to test the Bloodstone after all. Relieved, I tried to sit back up.
That proved a horrific mistake.
An inhuman hiss reverberated across the marsh, somewhere to our left. Frightened, the horse reared violently, scrambling right to escape the threat. One of my boots left the stirrups in the chaos, and I felt myself slipping.
Shit!
Water enveloped me as I fell into the marsh, soaking my clothes and hair. Gasping, I fought against the brackish drink, trying to claw my way to my feet.
The dappled mare bolted into the distance and vanished behind the trees. There went my ride.
The hiss sounded again, this time right beside me. I turned to see hollow, empty eyes boring into me before a claw dug into my shoulder, tearing through my dress and drawing blood.
Shrieking, I threw myself in the opposite direction, managing to break free. Grabbing my bleeding arm, I stared in horror at my attacker.
It almost appeared human. Stringy hair clung to a gaunt face set with eyes the same color as the still sea. Tattered remains of clothing hung on its body, flowing unnaturally as though suspended underwater.
A keres. Lost souls who fell into the abyss and now existed solely to drag others to their doom. I had assumed them no more than old maids’ tales used to frighten children into staying within the bounds of the city.
Every bone in my body screamed for me to run. But I froze.
A second keres emerged from the trees behind me and slammed into my back. Claws hooked around my wrist and shoulders, constricting me against its frail, wet body.
Struggling to escape, I flailed against my captors. My heart pounded in my chest, feeling like it might crawl up my throat and escape. The keres’ claws dug deeper, ripping through my skin.
Nothing would have stopped them from dragging their clawed hands through my neck or driving them into my heart. But they didn’t try to kill me. They stood still, holding me in place as the edge of the Empty approached.
My fear vanished as I gazed into the still sea. A sense of inevitability fell over me. My life had never been kind, never been worth anything. What better end than to vanish and be forgotten by the world?
The blood-red halo surrounding the infinite darkness covered my view of the sky, bathing me in the light of death.
Someone I didn’t want to remember flooded my mind. Pain ripped through my shoulder, and a splash of red trickled past my vision.
Suddenly, it wasn’t about me, but the man I needed to see again. Red flashed around my eyes, like dancing lights in swirling water.
Aching nostalgia ripped through my breast, like a well of light begging to be grasped. Reaching for it, I extended my hand, willing the Empty to stop, or perhaps beckoning for it to come.
I winced, waiting for the abyss to sweep over me. But the Empty halted its advance.
Claws retracted from my skin as the keres released me. They moved like someone walking underwater, slinking past the Empty’s threshold into the canyon of still water, falling over its edge and disappearing into the dark, dead sea.
Gasping, I fell backward, landing in the murk. If I took one step forward, I would tumble down a fathomless canyon into the world from which no one returned.
Someone raced through the swamp toward me, but I didn’t register their presence until a bright red light flooded into my eyes. Wincing, I saw Eleos kneel beside me, the glowing Bloodstone clutched in his hand.
So that was why the Empty had suddenly ceased spreading. The thing worked, after all.
I burst out laughing, an unhinged noise one might expect from a man who’d been locked in the dungeons for years.
Eleos’ expression had finally changed from a calm half-smile. His sage-green eyes were wide, filled with either fear or wonder. Maybe both. Without speaking, he grabbed my arm and helped me up, guiding me away from the cliff where once the marsh had been.
With every step we took from the Empty, the Bloodstone faded until it glowed no longer.
Three horses cantered nervously in place atop a nearby hill. Seraphim leaned forward on her saddle. “It worked!”
“I don’t. . .” Eleos shook his head. His eyes snapped into clarity, and he started. “You’re injured.” He exclaimed, as though he’d only just noticed my wounds.
Releasing me, he grabbed one of his saddlebags and tore it open.
“Can it wait?” Percy hissed nervously. “Until we put some more space between us and death?”
Grimacing, Eleos gave my wounds a cursory glance before deciding I was fine, for now. Dazed, I allowed him to help me onto the saddle, and he sat behind me.
Blood streamed down my white gown, though pain hadn’t set in. Breathing heavily, I grabbed Eleos’ sleeve when he wrapped his hand around my waist, clinging to him for dear life.
Glancing back, I tried to see what became of the keres, but they were simply gone. Our horses flew forward into the wetlands until eventually the great black hole with the red halo vanished from sight.
Percy herded us like sheep. Though calm starlight and buzzing swamp were all I could see, he urged us on, terrified the Empty would resume its pursuit.
My vision started blurring when Seraphim finally ordered us to stop. She jogged over, helping me dismount and setting me on the ground.
Eleos quickly tended to me, finding the puncture wounds and packing them to halt the bleeding.
Seraphim paced before us. “Did I see that correctly? The stone worked?”
Frazzled, the scholar looked up. “Y-yes. It must have,” he stuttered, wrapping my shoulder tightly.
I winced as the bandage squeezed the gash. “That should do for now.” He said. “I would rather stitch you up somewhere. . . cleaner.” Taking my hand, he gently helped me to my feet.
The world spun. Maybe it was blood loss or shock; I couldn’t tell. I took one step through the brackish mud and fell against something soft.
A bed, maybe? No, too much to hope for. But if death had removed the wretched smell rising from the marsh, I welcomed the darkness with open arms.
* * *
I roused from a nightmare, but couldn’t remember it upon waking.
I sat bolt upright, panting. Pain flared through my arm, and I flinched, remembering claws digging into my shoulder as I gazed into the abyss.
The marsh was gone. Dry grass surrounded my bedroll, not muddy water. A dappled mare grazed nearby, and a pair of boots approached.
Still groggy, I looked up to see an entire woman attached to the boots. Red hair swung down her back in a thick braid. Faint lines framed her pale-blue eyes.
“There she is.” Seraphim knelt beside me. “Took long enough.”
Everything came back to me at once—the Empty, the dead sea, the keres, and the glowing stone.
“You know,” I pointed out. “I’m already proving I won’t be much help on this quest.”
“Nonsense. I think there’s plenty of use in keeping you around.” She pulled a waterskin from her belt and offered it. “You’ll heal just fine. Eleos is brilliant. I’d trust him if he told me I was dead and just hadn’t realized it yet.”
My arm protested as I lifted the waterskin and drank. “I’ve never met a healer who was also a criminal.”
“Eleos is talented in many ways.” Seraphim stood. “Our Bloodstone works. Seems our faith in the Maiden will pay off.”
“I guess I shouldn’t have skipped church.” I grimaced, dragging myself to my feet. “Where are we?”
“Halfway to the Isthmus trade post.” Seraphim folded her arms, watching me as I took a few shaky steps. “You’re in debt, right?”
“Yes. I thought you already knew everything about me.”
“I don’t know the details.” Seraphim narrowed her eyes. “Did you cross the Guild?”
No sense pretending otherwise. “. . . in a sense.”
“Sounds like you need coin, then.” Seraphim dropped her arms. “If we succeed, the law will look the other way, but the Guild won’t forget. There’ll be coin in this for you. Something to raise your spirits.”
“Mm.” I sat back down. “The Archon mentioned that. He’s offering a lot—this job must be more dangerous than you’ve implied.”
“If all goes to plan, we’ll be doing much worse than brushing the edge of the abyss. We’ll be diving into its source.”
Source? Did the Empty have a source?
As if reading my mind, Eleos walked up behind me and answered. “Supposedly, it’s in Duath Nun. A river leads into the original sea from which all pockets of the abyss are born.”
“Oh,” I pressed a hand to my aching head. “But Duath Nun’s-”
“Forbidden.” Eleos finished my sentence.
Rubbing my eyes, I remembered what Ainwir had taught me about the country of Duath Nun: almost nothing. Centuries ago, it had sealed itself away, threatening death to any foreigners who trespassed.
A lethal strait separated our two countries, encouraging the divide. My eyes darted around, observing Seraphim, before lingering on Eleos. These people wanted to invade a country that would stick our heads on pikes?
“We don’t know that,” Eleos said. “Duath Nun could be perfectly civilized. We haven’t spoken to them in centuries.”
I hadn’t voiced my thoughts aloud. Rearing back, I stared into his green eyes and studied his smug half-smile. “Oh, no. You’re a psyche.”
His smile widened, but he did not answer.
Great. He’d been reading my mind since the moment we met. No wonder he’d figured out everything about me; nobody had told him I’d never been imprisoned—he’d read my fear.
“Is the lady awake?” Percy’s cheerful voice ascended the hill where the others were camped. “And she looks no worse for wear.”
Rolling his neck, he yanked off his low-brimmed hat. I didn’t mean to gape at him, but I couldn’t help it.
Not one wrinkle marred his face, but shock-white hair brushed against his skin. Shadowed by his hat, I hadn’t noticed his pale gray eyes and pallid skin.
But he couldn’t have been more than thirty. Only those who’d suffered prolonged exposure to the Empty had their features warped, drained of color. Anyone who showed their face in public looking like that would be driven out of town, for fear of them spreading their curse.
Percy noticed my stare, but didn’t seem to mind. “I say we get going before the world tries to eat us again.”
“Agreed.” Seraphim marched back to her horse. “Up you go, girly. An inn room’s not far.”
A hand brushed my arm. Staring ahead, I avoided Eleos’ gaze. Ainwir had taught me how to block out psyches, but it required a great deal of concentration—something I lacked with a throbbing arm and a heavy head.
“Seraphim meant what she said,” Eleos promised. “It’s quite a sum she’s promised us. I haven’t decided how to spend my lavish retirement yet.”
“You’re getting paid, too?”
“And Percy.”
Seraphim flashed me a grin as she swung over her horse’s saddle.
A lavish retirement, eh? I closed my eyes, imagining presenting Laverna with the absurd sum I owed her. More likely, she’d slit my throat or sell me to a brothel for failing the job.
“Or,” Eleos suggested. “They’ll push more debt on your head and keep you in servitude for as long as you’re useful.”
“Stop that.” I hissed.
“Sorry.” Eleos glanced away. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I said reluctantly, holding back a groan as he boosted me back onto the saddle. Still exhausted, I wobbled back and forth until he sat behind me. Appearances be damned. I slumped against his chest, unwilling to spend the hours bent over the horse’s neck.
Wrapping an arm around my waist, Eleos pressed his legs against mine, securing me against him.
Warmth from his body enveloped me, warding off the chill from my soaked clothes.
Heat slowly trickled to my cheeks, and I turned a bright shade of red.
Earlier, I’d dwelt on his pleasant scent and surprising musculature.
Oh. . . he’d read all those thoughts, too.
“I was flattered,” Eleos said, unhelpfully.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself to guard my thoughts more carefully, going forward.
“I do a lot of traveling,” Eleos added, ordering the horse into a trot. “Running across rooftops, fleeing the guards. Sometimes stealing from temples or libraries.”
“So that’s why you’re built like a thief,” I muttered.
“I don’t consider myself a thief,” he said. “Had they less stringent rules, I’d simply borrow what I need, but—”
“But study of the Empty is forbidden.” I finished his sentence.
“Are you a psyche?” He teased.
As the horses trotted across the grasslands, I stared over my shoulder, remembering my brush with death.
I’d met my master like that. A pocket of the Empty had appeared beside me while I was playing in the woods, alone. Ainwir had appeared from nowhere, rushed to my side, and by the goddess’s grace or sheer luck, the all-consuming void had halted in its tracks, sparing our lives.
Twice now, the Empty had stopped before me while I felt aching nostalgia in my breast and tugged upon it. Had that been a coincidence?
“It wasn’t,” Eleos said. “I saw you, the way your blood bent around the edges of the chasm. You were channeling.”