Chapter Twenty-Nine
By midmorning, Theron pulled his horse to a stop where a field of tall, thick grass stretched before us, swaying in the breeze. So tall I had to tilt my head back to find their tips. The field had no visible end, to my left and right, and no entrance.
What a strange place. The field wasn’t just tall grass. It was a disguise. A redirection. Anyone stumbling too close would turn back, convinced there was nothing worth finding.
Fraya’s horse tossed its head, uneasy at the wall of green. Minha leaned sideways from behind Fraya, craning her neck to see past her. Ranis steadied his with a gentle hand on the reins.
“I think we’re lost.” Jina shook her head, her arms snaked around Ranis’s waist.
“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Minha muttered.
“How do we get through?” Ranis leaned forward in his saddle, squinting like that would help.
“This grass is a barrier,” Theron said. “If they don’t grant you entrance, you can’t go in.” Theron clicked his tongue and urged his mount forward. “I’m going through.”
His arm came around my waist, pulling me back against him, and I felt the deep inhale of his breath against my shoulder. I kept my eyes forward, my hands finding his over my waist, my pulse hammering despite myself.
The grass closed around us as his horse pushed through, the tall blades brushing my face, my arms, dragging across my shoulders like fingers. Cool and damp against my skin.
Then the energy shifted.
Wind whipped through the grass so hard it pushed against us, forcing us back the way we’d come. They didn’t want us here.
Theron’s horse pushed on. It felt like being underwater. Pressure without weight. My stomach lurched.
“What’s happening?” I shouted, my own voice echoing back at me strangely.
“Who dares to enter?” A woman’s voice resonated everywhere at once.
“We hold the pure stones,” Theron said through the gale.
As if those were the only words that mattered, the wind died. The grass stilled. The world seemed to exhale—blades spinning then settling, the path ahead clearing like it had always been there.
Behind us, the sound of hooves. Fraya’s mare burst through first, Minha gripping her waist, both of them wide-eyed. Ranis came through a breath later, Jina’s arms locked around him, her face buried against his back.
Then whatever had held us released its grip, and revealed another world. The dim canopy gave way to warmth and open sunshine.
Trees rose in every direction, light beaming through in long golden shafts that fell across a river running clear and shallow over smooth stones.
Deer grazed at the bank, lifting their heads once before returning to the water.
Cottages scattered among the trees, flowers climbing their walls. Smoke curled from chimneys.
Children splashed in the shallows, shrieking and laughing, chasing each other through the current. Women moved along the bank carrying woven baskets, exchanging words and giggling. Men hauled loads of wood between the houses, and some fished at the river.
No one seemed afraid. No one looked over their shoulder.
I hadn’t known a place could feel serene. Like the rest of the world—the queen, the soldiers, the auction blocks, dangerous caverns, and bounty hunters—didn’t exist.
In the cavern we had darkness and each other. That was all we’d ever known. I hadn’t understood until this moment what we’d been kept from. What the world could look like when none of us were in chains.
“Welcome to Pandrano. Where peace is the only way.” The gentle voice came before she did, materializing out of thin air.
Theron’s stallion dipped his head low, like a reverent gesture. The other mounts followed, their noses toward the ground.
Long golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, each strand catching the light like spun thread, falling past her waist in soft waves that moved without wind.
Her face was narrow and pale, not a single wrinkle.
For an ancient being, she appeared ageless as she approached, her long white gown flowing, the fabric catching light the same way the pure stones did—a faint luminescence from within.
Her almost colorless eyes found mine first, long enough to make my chest tighten before moving to the others. At last, to Theron, where they lingered a moment longer than the rest.
“I have been expecting you,” she said.
Not to Theron. Not to the group. But to me.
“Come.” Her white gown caught the light as she turned, waving to a young man sprinting toward us.
When we dismounted, the same young man took the reins, leading the horses toward the river, and we followed.
Her cottage sat deeper among the trees than the rest, partly hidden by ivy and climbing white flowers that framed the doorway.
A stone path led up to the entrance, smooth and worn from years of use.
Wind chimes hung from the low branches above, their sound soft and continuous, like the forest was humming a tune.
The smell of dried herbs settled into my nostrils the moment we entered. Bundles of plants hung from the ceiling beams, casting thin shadows across the floor. Shelves lined every wall with small jars, folded cloths, and wooden chests sealed shut with leather cord.
A fire burned low in the hearth. From a small kitchen area, porridge simmered over the flame, rich and savory, the aroma cutting through the herbs.
A bed sat in the far back corner, neatly made, a single candle on the table beside it. In the center of the room a long wooden table waited with enough chairs for all of us.
She gestured for us to sit, then took the chair at the head of the table and folded her hands in her lap. “What do you seek, child?”
“The pure—” Theron began.
She raised a hand in front of Theron without looking at him. “I didn’t ask you.” Her pale eyes stayed on me. “Let the bearer speak.”
I glanced at Jina, Minha, and Ranis. They all carried a stone. Minha carried two. So why me?
“We are all bearers,” I said carefully, “except for Fraya and Theron.”
The Priestess said nothing. Just waited.
I decided to do as she asked and placed the stone I’d been protecting on the table in front of her.
“We’ve come for answers,” I said. “We need help bringing the Seelie queen to surrender. To strip her of the magic she stole so she can never use it again.” I paused, gathering what I knew.
“She killed the gods. All of them. Poisoned them, then used a dagger made from a seashell the earth god had forged to stop their hearts, where their powers were housed. I assume you already know this, so forgive me if I’ve said too much. ”
The Priestess didn’t move. Didn’t blink. When she still said nothing, I took this opportunity to speak my mind.
“Why were Yeri and Calroy handled differently?” I asked. “The wall showed five gods turning on them. Not the Seelie queen.”
The Priestess drew a deep breath. “The queen wanted Caelum, the wealthiest of all the kingdoms. But to take it, she had to remove Calroy, its guardian. And removing Calroy meant removing Yeri too.” She folded her hands on the table.
“Yeri would never have stood aside. She loved him. She would have fought beside him without hesitation. No other god could match them in battle. Not even five of them together.”
“I assume the dagger was too weak,” I said.
“No. Yeri and Calroy were the strongest of the seven. Had she driven that blade into either of their hearts, the power released would have been beyond anything she could contain. It would have destroyed the dagger and likely herself.” Her pale eyes moved around the table.
“So she did what the powerful do when they cannot win. She corrupted what she couldn’t defeat.
Turned the gods of fire, wind, earth, life, and the afterlife against them through bargain and manipulation until five stood against two.
” She paused. “Gods cannot kill one another. But they can break each other.”
Theron’s knuckles went white on the table. “And once Calroy and Yeri were removed. Caelum had no one left to protect it.”
Theron thought I’d been asleep when he spoke to his mother. But I’d heard his father was poisoned, his crown stripped, everything taken from him before he ever had the chance to fight for it.
“Precisely.” The Priestess smiled somberly at him, the kind that said I know what you’ve been through.
The fire burned low in the hearth.
“The god of the afterlife sent Calroy and Yeri back into mortal life, right?” Minha asked.
“Yes. Stripped of power, stripped of memory, placed back among the people they had once protected. The queen believed the two were dead. She didn’t know what the god of afterlife had done. The god of afterlife thought two gods with no power and no memory of themselves were no threat to anyone.”
“He was wrong.” Minha smirked.
I stared at the stone on the table. The five gods who died in the cavern, their power bleeding into the water, into the calcium, hardening into pure stones. And Yeri and Calroy walking somewhere in the world. Mortal. Unknowing. Separated for who knew how long.
My chest pulled tight.
“The queen knows they were reborn now,” The Priestess continued.
“She has been searching. She knows they carry no memory, no power. But she also knows that love has its own memory, and if they found each other…” Her pale eyes settled on mine.
“That terrifies her more than anything the dagger could have done.”
Theron went rigid beside me. “Because when they do, they will take her down.”
The priestess nodded. “And the rightful ruler will take the throne.”
Theron dipped his head in reverence as his answer, then he stiffened as if he’d been caught. No one at the table knew who he was. At least I didn’t think so. Fraya was harder to read. She never gave anything away.
“What can we do to help?” Fraya spoke for the first time since we arrived. “How do we find the reborn Calroy and Yeri?”
The Priestess looked at all of us in turn. “You must take the pure stones to the land of the dead to speak to the gods. There you’ll get your answer.”
“Land of the dead?” Ranis’s voice rose. “Like go to where people are waiting for judgment?”
“Exactly what I said.”
Ranis opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Ranis, you left a kingdom you believed had no place for you,” The Priestess said.
The color drained from his face.
“You are the second prince of Varen.” She lowered her head into a slight dip. “You believed the crown would never be yours, so you walked away from it.”
Jina clapped a hand over her mouth. Minha’s eyes went wide. Even Fraya went still.
“How do you—” Ranis started.
“The same way I know everything that walks through that grass.” She tilted her head, her golden hair gleaming from the light filtering in from the window. “You will go back before this quest is over, the Crown Prince of Varen. Not as a son, but as king.”
Ranis let out a short breath. “I’m no king. I do not care for such title.”
“Not yet.” Her eyes didn’t waver. “But the defeat of the Seelie queen will require your service. And its ruler is sitting at my table.”
Ranis stared at his hands on the table. “My father will not wage war against the Seelie queen. He’s afraid.”
“You must change his mind.”
Theron clapped his shoulder. “I always knew you were too well-mannered to be a commoner.”
“So that’s why Russo always said I held a sword like a nobleman.” He shook his head. “I thought if I could survive Russo and learn from a ruthless pirate, I could be one too.”
Theron’s mouth curved. “You’re a terrible pirate, Ranis.”
“I know.” He exhaled. “Apparently I’d make a great king instead.”
Jina snorted. Even Fraya’s mouth twitched.
The Priestess watched all of us, smiling. “The crown will wait, Ranis. There is work to be done first.” Her eyes moved back to me. “For all of you.”
“How do we get to the land of the dead?” Minha took out her stone from her pocket.
“Through sleep.” The Priestess took a quick glance over her shoulder at the shelf of herbs. “I will create a concoction. It will put you in a state between sleep and waking. Half in the dream world, half still here. Your body will remain in this room. But your mind will cross.”
“And the stones?” I picked it up from the table.
“You hold them when you sleep. They will guide you to where the gods wait.” She rose from her chair and moved to the shelves, her fingers trailing along the small jars.
“Lavender,” she said, unstopping the first. The scent hit immediately, calming in a way I hadn’t expected.
“It will ease your mind into the crossing.” She set it down and reached for the second, small dark berries suspended in liquid.
“Nightshade. Enough to take you deep, not enough to keep you there,” she said, like that distinction wasn’t terrifying.
Then the third, pale and stringy. “And shadowroot. It grows only in the deepest part of this forest, where no sunlight reaches.” She glanced at us.
“It thins the veil between this world and the next. The gods cannot come to you, you can go to them.”
“All of us?” Fraya asked, examining the stone Minha held.
“Those who carry stones. I suggest only four of you go. But Theron and Star must go.”
“Is it dangerous?” Jina asked, smoothing her thumb over hers.
The Priestess reached for a teaspoon and four small cups from the shelf. “Everything worth doing is.” She glanced between us. “I must warn you… beware of the creatures that guard the gate, and the evil spirits that wander between worlds. They will sense the living among them.”
That was not reassuring.
“What do they want?” Minha watched The Priestess scoop herbs into the cup and mix it with water she poured from a small jug.
“What all lost things want,” The Priestess said, mixing the concoction with a spoon. “Your soul.”
No one spoke. The fire had burned low, the herbs scent thick in the air, the jars lined up on the table. I looked at the stone in my palm, warm and humming faintly against my skin. Whatever waited on the other side of sleep, I got the feeling it already knew we were coming.