15. Nahomie
Nahomie
Obsidian bowed regally, spreading his wings and flattening his spine. His movements were fluid, graceful, like a being who had been raised in court among the esteemed of his kind. I looked at him, still bowed, unsure of what he was doing... until I realized he wanted me to get on his back.
I opened my mouth to protest, but a flash of Saundeiah’s disapproval halted me. I shut my mouth and carefully climbed onto the gargoyle, settling between the columns of his wings. The effort left me panting and grinding my teeth against the incessant pain, breathing anew beneath my skin.
Obsidian’s wings, wide, membranous, and strong, curled around me with a gentleness I didn’t know gargoyles could possess. Everything I’d ever been taught about them was tied to their strength, viciousness, and savagery, but Obsidian proved otherwise.
Bones shuffled into the hall, his dark fur blending into the darkness. At some point, I would need to press Tassarion about this constant moodiness in the manor. If I were going to make it my home, I needed light! Bones lifted his nose, squinting up at me.
“Where are you going, Emie?”
I shrugged.
“Wherever Obsidian brings me.”
I looked between Bones and the Gargorètti. The cinderwolf was at ease, as if he were in the presence of an old friend. What had I missed in all those dawns I spent unconscious in this manor? Bones strutted to Obsidian’s side and shook out his fur, reaching the gargoyle’s hip.
“Well then, let’s go. I want to run.”
Obsidian laughed, then floated into the air.
“We’ll start with the East Wing of Everthorn Manor,” Obsidian said.
“This is where we currently are. It is the residence wing for all Everthorns, family members, and closely trusted advisors and friends. It is an honor for anyone to frequent this wing who isn’t an Everthorn.
Your present chambers specifically, Roièssa, once belonged to former Roièssa Clarèssa. ”
I sucked in a sharp breath. It wasn’t lost on me how big a deal that was. Tassarion could have given me any of the guest rooms. Instead, he placed me in the chamber that once belonged to his Manmi. My hearts pricked at the thought.
“If we went down the hall in the opposite direction, we would be taken to former Princèssa Vitani’s chambers.”
“I’m... sorry. Former Princèssa?“ My jaw dropped. “Tassarion had a sister?” My voice rose three octaves in blatant shock mixed with growing grief for my new wingmate. Obsidian grunted. It was strange, but I could almost feel the gargoyle’s misery. His loss.
“Yes, our darling Princèssa. Along with Roièssa Clarèssa, she was the light of this manor. The light of our lives. All of Mortevain Island. We will not soon end grieving the loss of our Princèssa though it has been eight centuries.”
Eight. Centuries.
Something in my chest cracked.
Merciful Infinite.
Edenael didn’t have a clue about the truth of Mortevain Island at all.
They’d lost their King, Queen, Prince, and Princess all at once while their remaining heir had been captured.
Stars. I looked around the manor with fresh eyes while Obsidian continued his flight.
The darkness, the solemnitude, the isolation. All of it was beginning to make sense.
I thought of the Mortevain King. My wingmate. My husband.
And I grieved for him.
The Gargorètti flew at a leisurely pace, much to my gratitude.
I’d grunted twice when he’d increased his speed.
Instinctively he slowed down and hadn’t sped up again.
Obsidian flew down the hallways and through the foyers I’d tried escaping through when I first awoke in the manor.
I couldn’t really appreciate it at the time. Now, I saw the manor for what it was.
A magnificent work of art.
All the ceilings were vaulted. Kaleidoscope tiles were interspersed throughout the designs across the ceiling and down the walls.
Every turn Obsidian took, there were endless sconces alight with a warm, golden flame.
I lost count of ethèrlamps brightening the different spaces, plus endless tapestries depicting different eras of Mortevain.
“Over here is the private dance hall the Rois would escape to so they could be alone.”
I looked at the ornate doors, Victorian in pattern, with a large lock sealed by ethèr. A tiny soul floated around, gnashing its teeth when we flew too close. I wondered why the dance hall had been sealed, so I asked.
“Roi Tassarion commanded it.”
“But why, Obsidian?”
“I’m not sure, Roièssa. He sealed many chambers after the deaths of the Rois and his escape from Belial.”
His escape from where?
I was flabbergasted at the thought of the king being in the Underrealm itself. Escape alluded to captivity, not cooperation, which was the story told across Edenael Island. I thought back to my first encounter with Tassarion.
“Funny how you all traded kidnapping for running off. I’d love to know what else you were wrongfully told about my family. My island.”
They’d been attacked, and he had been kidnapped.
And taken to the Underrealm.
I thought of all his stitches. All of his scars. Like he’d been unmade, broken over and over, before being put back together again. My stomach churned with the revelation. I felt ill.
“What happened to the Everthorns, Obsidian?” I whispered as Bones raced easily to keep up with the gargoyle’s flight.
“The Beauradèls happened,” said Obsidian, matter-of-factly, as he turned down another hall and used a wing to point.
“Okay, there is the chamber the Everthorns would share their private meals before leaving for the garden to take their evening flight.” Another turn down another long hall.
“But yes, as I was saying. The Beauradèls. They were dear friends to the Everthorns. The Everthorn younglings were raised with the Beauradèls. Tassarion, Tovares, and Vitani called them Tati and Unka because they grew up believing the Beauradèls were their aunt and uncle. Marcèllian was part of the Ministeri—the parliament of Mortevain—and always had the ear of Roi Tazzias. The next thing we all knew, the Trumpet Gate was breached. The Fallen King, Zemshaza and his army of hèlsborn had flown through. Zemshaza came with a group of Fallen Angels, and he brought Spirit Harvesters. Before the end of the dawn, our Roi, Roièssa, Princes and Princèssa fell. One prince was taken. The other went missing. The bodies of Tovares and Vitani haven’t been found since, but we believe Vitani is no more. ”
My hearts shriveled in my chest.
Oh, Tassarion.
Is that how he became so scarred?
Was it on the dawn his Manmi and Papi fell?
“No, my curious Phantimèssa. It wasn’t.”
I nearly leapt off the back of the Gargorètti, screaming with fright. How in the living rot was Tassarion speaking into my mind? Angels couldn’t just breach...
I looked again at the wingmate mark.
Oh, blessed lights.
A dark, scintillating chuckle rumbled in my mind and down my chest. Obsidian kept flying, kept giving me history about every chamber we passed as we crossed from the east wing to the west. But I didn’t hear a word.
My mind was fixated on Tassarion and I’s bond.
On his ability to talk to me through our bond, telepathically. Which also meant...
“Tassarion, stay out of my head. You don’t have permission to prattle on in my thoughts.”
A snort tumbled down the bond followed by an obnoxious cackle.
“Don’t flatter yourself. This is as much a nuisance for me as it is for you.” Tassarion kissed his teeth. The sound was so clear, as if he were standing next to me. “I needed your bond. Not your thoughts. But make no mistake, I will have my fun.”
“Delightful,” I quipped.
Lookin within, I found the shimmering veil at the center of the bond. I rushed for it within the chasm of my inner mind and yanked it down. Then I smiled. I’d effectively cut off the mental connection between Tassarion and my mind... for now.
“Roièssa, are you even listening?”
“I am! I got a bit distracted. Sorry.”
He nodded in sympathy.
“You’re right. I’m overwhelming you.”
“No, no. I... just need a break before we continue.”
“In that case, do you want to go to the garden?”
I grinned, immediately forgetting this little mental snafu with Tassarion.
“I absolutely would!”
I was lost in thought while the Gargorètti made his way to the garden.
The gargoyle eventually burst through four sets of high-standing, raven-black doors with latched knocks.
I tossed my head back and took in a long, satisfying breath.
I’d missed the kiss of sunlight against my arms. Missed the warmth of dawn brushing my cheeks.
It felt good to be outside again. I looked around, taking in my surroundings.
I gaped at the garden, unequivocally in awe.
Many of the flowers towered as high as the manor itself. Endless bushes, the size of small Pegasi, filled innumerable columns. There were all kinds of fruit tucked within the folds of their leaves. And the colors!
Purple flowers. Gilded bushes. Ivory trees.
Scarlet leaves. I marveled, unable to find any word to describe the emotion filling my chest. Tears trickled down my cheeks unbidden.
What a privilege this was. I knew it and I refused to take it for granted.
Edenael had its own beautiful gardens, but nothing quite like this.
I felt as if I were in a small, enchanted forest. It was lush. Magical. Otherworldly.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“A marvel, isn’t it?”
Bones wasn’t so reverent. The cinderwolf burst into the garden and immediately took off running, shaking his bushy coat of ebony fur. Obsidian lowered me to the ground. I instantly kicked off my sandals. Soft dirt, through thin grass blades, brushed the bottoms of my feet.
Being in this garden felt so much like home. I reached down to press a hand into the ground when I saw them.
Tracks.
My blood turned to ice.
Bones came running back through the large bushes, plowing through the pretty flowers of the Everthorn garden. As my cinderwolf neared, my body began to spasm. In Bones’s mouth was the body of a dead bloodhound, his teeth buried into the broken neck of the demonized dog.
And in the slack jaw of the hound hung six ebony boneraven feathers.