7. Nahomie
Nahomie
Knees bent, wings snapped open, blackfire swirling in both my palms, I grit my teeth, ready to unleash myself on the creature slithering closer.
“Madame Nahomie, please!” Khaziah screeched, throwing her hands in the air. “Saundeiah is a friend.”
“Saundeiah will be taking a trip to the Six Hèls if she gets any closer.”
I glared at the diaphanous figure. Her feminine curves swished left and right as she continued to approach me. The boldness made my blood boil.
I’d heard of creatures like this. Like her. Granmanmi said they were diabolic and devilish. Cousins of the hèlsborn. These creatures were in the same category as Spirit Harvesters, Stareaters, and Bloodleeches. If I were ever to spot one, I was to attack first and ask questions second.
The creature sensed my intentions and slowed its advance. She looked at me with an unreadable expression. I zeroed in on her. Any sudden movements and I was drowning this entire manor in blackfire.
“Back away from me, spawn of hèls,” I hissed.
The hair on my arms stood on end. Tension coiled through my body like the konda of the Amazaé Forest. These things shouldn’t exist. More and more I was understanding Papi’s loathing of anything tied to the Everthorns.
I never imagined they fraternized with such hèllish creatures.
“Nalyen Princèssa,” spoke the creature. “Your prejudice will only cost you. Drop your presumptions and allow me to introduce myself.”
Was gaslighting a mastered art form in this wretched place?
Leave.
I needed to leave.
I looked past the wispy frame, obsidian in color with glittering starlight illuminating her body from within, glancing at the threshold of the bedchamber that led to the other rooms. If I took my chances and charged out of here, would I be able to find my way out of the manor?
I looked back at the creature in her luminous eyes.
I shuddered, entirely disturbed. How in the actual rot did I end up in a place like this?
And this Phantimèssa I kept hearing.
What did it mean? Why were they calling me that?
My heart rate rose. Blood pumped through my limbs as my adrenaline swelled. Suddenly, I was ready to claw my way out of here if that’s what it came down to.
The ghostly creature floated in place. Khaziah slipped backward, distancing herself from the intruder and me. Like she could sense a battle brewing, and she didn’t want to get caught in the middle. The Lowerrank was wise. There would be a kerfuffle. And I had no intention of losing.
“What is a Nanmiess doing in Hallowed territory? How are you not in one of the Six Hèls?”
I pulled more blackfire into my palms. I blinked at the soul, perplexed.
Nanmiess were a strange phenomenon. They weren’t alive, but they weren’t entirely dead either.
They existed in a spiritual limbo, embodying the mind, will, and emotions of the former beings they once were the essence of.
This soul could have belonged to an angel once.
Even a Faerèth, though I couldn’t imagine how the living soul of a fae would end up here in Everthorn Manor.
The Nanmiess, Saundeiah, smiled.
My blackfire stirred.
“Nanmiess are not Unclean, Madame. We were not born of the Underrealm Flame. You mistake me for an Inferni. The disembodied soul of a Fallen. I came from a Hallowed, and have been given the right to remain in this realm as I am.”
Saundeiah paused, allowing me a moment to process what she said.
Granmanmi had always said all disembodied souls were the same.
They’d come from the Fallen Angels through Noirfyre Rites, which allowed the Fallen to siphon their own souls and then turn them into undead beings that functioned under demonic control.
Granmanmi said nothing about there being a difference between Nanmiess and Inferni though.
Only that any soul spotted throughout Sorellien was born of the Hèls and ought to be treated as such.
I glared at the Nanmiess, unsure if I should take her word over that of Granmanmi.
Granted, how much of what Granmanmi had taught me was superstition dressed as truth? In my gut, I felt a strange calm. As if I ought to believe the creature. But logic wouldn’t allow it. I kept my blackfire swirling, still glancing towards the bedchamber doors.
“I give you my word, Madame. I mean you no harm. You’re safe here in Everthorn Manor. Our Roi’s Gargorètti wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t.” She tilted her head. “It may be unnerving at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
Get used to it.
Like I was going to be here long enough to get desensitized to the shock of free-roaming souls.
Like hèls I would.
“I’ve said this twice now. Out of my long-suffering, I will say it one last time.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m ready to take my leave.” A glance at the doors. “Have you seen a cinderwolf loose around this manor? I’ll need to fetch him before I go.”
Saundeiah looked at me through stunning, luminous eyes.
“I would advise against that, Madame.” She clasped her ephemeral hands.
Her ghostly body flitted in and out of sight as she remained in place.
“Like I said, it will not be possible. Especially since Roi Everthorn has already reinforced the Anshantmants around the manor to make sure you cannot leave.”
I jerked backwards. My blackfire sputtered and faded, retreating into my skin, as shock rocked through my body. My jaw hung. It was a long, awkward moment before I could find my tongue.
“He...” I blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “He what?“
“It’s for your safety, Madame.”
I shook with rage.
Safety.
I was going to give that king of theirs something safe to do, alright.
I’d had enough of this. Without another word, I snapped my wings open and shot past the Nanmiess and Raephim.
I lunged for the doors and hurled myself across the threshold leading into the corridor.
It was a quick dash through the interconnected chambers before I was plowing through the exterior doors.
For a moment, I halted in a grand hall. I gawked at the ornate onyx pillars, gilded rugs, finely painted tapestries, and draping onyx curtains that tumbled from the burnished cathedral ceilings to the carpeted floors.
I had to admit, it really was a pretty prison.
Much of the decoration and furnishings reminded me of my home.
The home that the rotting Farasees had burned to the ground.
My lip curled back in a silent snarl. A yearning for Edenael twisted in my chest.
Floating in the air, I flapped my wings and began speeding down the hall. The first corner I reached, I turned down the length of it, racing at full speed. With every beat of my wings, I flew faster, charging down the elongated halls of this colossal manor.
“Phantimèssa.” The eerie voice returned. I tried to ignore it, but invisible hands gripped my thin gown and refused to let go. “You will not leave us.”
Panic choked in my throat.
Out.
I needed to get out!
No one was going to take me against my will. Not when I just survived the Ivory Rain trying to do the same thing on behalf of the Farasee Order. I was getting the rot out of here. I would find another way to survive whatever Hèls waited for me beyond this manor of breathing darkness.
“We need you, Phantimèssa.”
A string of skeletal giggling that made my nerves brittle.
“We need your blood. We need your song. Won’t you bleed for us?”
More giggling. More tugging at my gown. My burning sanity.
“Won’t you sing for us?”
Tears burned at the back of my eyes. These voices were frightening. Why would Obsidian bring me to this skies-awful place? I had thought that maybe he would become a friend. Why did he do this to me?
And where in the rot was Bones?
I flew past an array of statues all fashioned after the likeness of the angels of the Twelve Elledelle Ranks.
The sculptures were in angelic order, beginning with Calvaethim and ending with a Babephim.
Tempted as I was to slow down and soak in the abundance of rich beauty dripping at every corner and turn, my mind was locked on one singular focus.
Getting the stars out of here.
I flew into a baronial foyer with doors on the other side that seemed to lead outside of the manor. As I continued flying, an odd presence filled the open space. The walls creaked like old wood. The ethèrlamps flickered in and out. An eerie hiss trailed me.
I whirled around. Searched the foyer.
There was no one there.
I took a deep breath to steady myself.
A creeping feeling tingled down my spine.
I started flying again. Faster. My wings pulsed with the increased speed. A delicious heat filled the powerful muscles of each wing as my feathers carried me through several more foyers.
The hissing returned. I flew faster. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this manor was alive. And if I stayed, it would consume me.
A low rumble from the shadowy corners of the manor slowed my flight. My hearts beat like drums. Blackfire seeped into my palms. My body started to fyuse. Black flame with lavender starlight overtook my brown hands, then my arms, as I began shifting.
Then I spotted my ticket to freedom.
Ahead were a set of four large doors, made of mosaic stained glass trimmed by onyx stone that trapped the sunlight. Beyond, I saw a garden.
I smiled, exhaling deeply.
Then a monstrous roar tore through the air.
I whipped around and found a pair of steel-blue eyes glaring at me from the shadows in the dark.
“Is sneaking out of my manor any proper way to say thank you?”