3. Nahomie
Nahomie
Salty tears stained my cheeks as another hideous sob wrenched from my throat.
“Please,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Please, let me go. I’m not what you think I am.”
My whispers were soft. Weak. For the millionth time, they fell on deaf ears. A pop sounded in the air. A loud creaking noise jarred my senses. Then the cage shrank. Again.
“No, no, no, please,“ I cried out, batting my hands against the gilded bars.
Every time I spoke, made a request, lifted a plea, this hèls-infested cage became smaller.
I hunched over my knees, tucking my wings close.
My tears wouldn’t stop falling as I wrapped my arms around my knees.
Dread gripped me with an unshakable fist. Every story Papi ever told me about what happened to angels who’d been captured by the Farasee Order played, over and over in my mind.
The Ivory Rain had one sole purpose.
To fulfill the will of the Farasee Order.
We’d always been told by the Order that everything the Ivory Rain did was on behalf of the Empyrean. It was for the good of all angels and every species we co-habited.
The Farasees lied.
We’d all been fed a heaping pile of rot.
I shivered uncontrollably. Whatever power the Ivory Rain used, it made it nearly impossible for me to summon blackfire. Not to mention, the interior of this cage was freezing. The colder it became, the more my ethèr shrunk inside of me, making itself inaccessible.
I coughed, jarred by the sensation. Edenael wasn’t an island that often had the wintrien season.
Our winter was nothing more than a chillier than cool breeze, flowing across the island for about two weeks, before the full blasted sumyrin season warmed us again in scorching summer heat.
My gown, though made of velvet, was still too thin for this dreadful temperature.
I clung to myself while shuffling close to Bones.
He was still unconscious. My only consolation was that the cinderwolf was still breathing.
Paranoia drowned me in anxiety as my concern grew for my beloved pet.
He was strong and could withstand most things.
But whatever it was, the Dyabèssa had done to him; it had practically drained him of his life.
I pressed into Bones’s side, still crying. Shivering.
Utterly miserable and forlorn.
“I’m not a monster,” I cried faintly, almost inaudible. “Please release me.”
If the Ivory Rain wouldn’t hear me, maybe the Infinite would?
How often had Manmi and Papi dragged my hide to Titombwe—the biggest amphitheater on Edenael Island used for hosting ceremonies, performances, worship services of the Infinite, and even gladiator-styled trials pitting the different races against one another—and made me take part in all the worship ceremonies?
All of those twinights of endless prayer.
Spiritual lament and renewal. How often had I repented and sought to be made a better angel than I was?
Surely all of that amounted to something.
If these horrid hunters wouldn’t have mercy.
Wouldn’t the Infinite be so kind?
I glanced at the oversized pile of grey that was stuffed in the cage's corner once we’d passed Edenael’s borders and began flying over Barrenrock Island.
The pile was so large it nearly took up all the space in this wretched cage.
It was heavy, too. I could feel the cage dragging because of its weight. I couldn’t tell what the pile was.
A battered angel? A captured giant?
I sniffled, wiping at my tears, squinting in the dark to piece out what it was. Dawn had long descended, leaving us in deep twinight. The Ivory Rain had dropped the pile in here after the seven suns had gone over the horizon.
I leaned forward, staring at the silhouette of the pile.
A low snarl rumbled from beneath the mound.
I jerked backward, striking my head against the roof of the shrunken cage. I shuffled back, tugging Bones with me as best I could. My head rang like cymbals as a headache immediately split across my temples.
“Stars,” I hissed, reaching my hands up to rub my forehead until the throbbing stopped.
It was then that I noticed the chains.
One on each of my wrists. My ankles. Even all seven pairs of my wings.
I also wore a heavy, cold iron collar around my neck.
Each chain was shackled to the cage, and beyond to the chariot in front, dragging it.
When in the stars had these been placed on me?
I’d been awake the entire time... hadn’t I?
A crippling fear snaked through my body.
Delirium. That’s what this senselessness, this helplessness, was turning into.
Another garbled whimper snapped me out of my stupor. I looked at the source.
The pile of grey was still there, unmoving.
Until.
There was a shuffle.
Then the pawing of claws on steel.
I shuddered violently, trembling with fear. I pressed my knees to my chest, using the end of a wing to cover Bones’s body. Squinting in the dark, I realized my error. The pile wasn’t a pile at all.
“Oh, my stars.”
The chariot pulled the cage under a bright patch of moonlight; the three moons illuminating the cage. The sight before me made me nearly wet myself. My hearts pounded in my chest. I shrank away, absolutely terrified. I looked up at the colossal frame of a creature carved entirely of stone.
“What in the Six Hèls,” I exhaled.
The creature blinked at me. Amber eyes, bright as molten flame, rested on my cowed frame.
The creature sat up, stretching as high as he could go, leaning into the opposite corner of the cage.
I ogled his sharpened teeth. His elongated claws.
The taloned feet. The beast had a draping, black skirt around his hips, made of material I didn’t recognize, that clung to him like liquid.
Two large horns protruded from his forehead, while two even larger, membranous wings curled around his hunched frame from his spine.
“I don’t believe my eyes.”
The creature blinked at me.
“Do you believe your hearts, Madame?”
I jumped, stunned at his monstrous, yet intelligent, speech. His dialect rang familiar to my ears, but I couldn’t place it. It was like trying to remember an old dream. Yet, I couldn’t help feeling like I’d seen this kind of beast before, though I couldn’t imagine where.
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again. I sat back, shell-shocked.
I gave the creature a long once-over, looking at him as much as possible in the dark, as my eyes continued adjusting. All over him were open gashes. Fresh wounds. Ancient scars. Across his face. Down his muscled chest, arms, and legs. I knew these wounds instantly for what they were.
Whip marks.
This creature had been beaten with Dragontails.
The longer I stared at the beast, the less horrified I became. He was large and grotesque, but in his eyes he carried a kindness that made me feel safe. He could easily hurt me. Kill me even. But I knew by those gentle, amber eyes, he never would.
“What are you?” I whispered through chapped, cracked lips.
I shivered once again, freezing in this awful cage that felt more and more like a tundra.
The creature opened its mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“Gargorètti, Madame.”
He blinked at me as the words left his mouth in a garbled whisper.
Holy. Burning. Stars.
“You’re a... but that can’t be. Edenael doesn’t have any...”
I tried to find my words as I shifted on my backside. The skin around my wrists chafed beneath the shackles that held them. I tried to sit straighter and look the creature in the eye. The sheer power, intelligence, and knowing I saw in them left me dumbfounded.
“You’re...” I swallowed, unable to keep from stuttering. “You’re a gargoyle?”