CHAPTER TWENTY
EMMERY
Emmery slept fitfully. Each time she shut her eyes, she descended into nightmares, and the terrors persisted, ramped up since she’d last seen Shade.
Sometimes she would find herself laying awake at night thinking of their kiss. His soft lips, the urgency in which he held her, tender, yet it was still only a dream. And that, in itself, hurt.
Gods, she couldn’t even remember what his voice sounded like. If she squinted hard enough, sometimes she thought she could find that thread of a memory, but it always slipped away.
Now each time she thought of Shade, their last interaction crept back.
However, that person was not Shade. Maybe it’d been a drug-induced hallucination from the healing tonic, but either way, those red eyes haunted her dreams. Whether it was her state of mind or her overwhelming fear of encountering imposter Shade again, Emmery couldn’t find her way back to the Divide.
Instead she remained suspended in the terrors of her own mind.
She used the anger of what happened with Destonne, and her newfound rage to help her claw her hands into the seam of her dream and rip. Her muscles strained and a feral yell tore from between clenched teeth until the nightmare parted and—
She tumbled into the Divide. It welcomed her like her own shadow, enveloped her in a warm gooey embrace and she sank into its familiar vastness that stretched on into eternity.
After she shoved herself back onto her feet, Emmery brushed off her trousers and cinched her braid tighter as she remembered her purpose. Why she needed to be here.
“Shade?” she called into the void.
No response.
The longer she walked in the infinite shadows and inky water, the more silence sank its teeth into her bones and replaced that welcoming embrace with eerie terror. A shiver needled Emmery's spine as she spun, swearing she could feel eyes on her, someone watching her from the moment she arrived.
Gods, the Divide was supposed to be her safe place, a freedom from her nightmares, but it had become an extension of them. It wasn’t her sanctuary without Shade. Because he was her sanctuary.
If it took until the end of time, she would find him. She would tear the whole world apart if that was the cost.
As a screech sounded from the darkness, the hair stood on the back of her neck.
There was something here.
And it wasn’t Shade.
Emmery slowly backed away, not sure where to go, or if she could even exit this place by her own free will. She’d never wanted to leave before and had always been stolen away from Shade.
Something cold and hard brushed Emmery’s back. She stifled a scream, as she darted and whirled, her limbs wild and teeming with adrenaline. And as she stood there, chest heaving, her eyes focused and the energy shooting through her veins fizzled to a numb, icy blur.
A few paces away, Zyphira sat in an enormous chartreuse armchair that swallowed her like a pearl on a pillow. Her intimidating plum-coloured eyes glimmered as she looked Emmery over, or rather picked her apart. Gods, if she wanted that, she would have dreamed up a version of Destonne.
“It has been too long, dearest,” she said.
“Zyphira,” Emmery bowed her head and pressed a hand over her heart. “What a pleasant surprise.” The strange screeching behind her faded.
Ripples scattered around the Oracle’s feet as she silently met the ground. With a snap of her fingers, the chair disappeared and she waved Emmery forward. “Come.”
Like a compliant pet, Emmery nearly tripped over herself to follow.
With each fall of her petite bare feet, Zyphira created a world, as if the Divide had and would always belong to her, and answered obediently to her every beck and call.
Colour bled from the darkness into a vast field, stretching further than Emmery could see.
The sky folded in on itself and the night unrolled winking stars and a pale moon reminiscent of Vesper’s eyes.
Energy charged the air, palpable and tingling on Emmery’s skin, like life itself began and ended from this place.
Zyphira snapped one final time and dark plum-coloured roses sprouted from the ground, the buds wrapped taut as if secrets hid within the petals.
They were the same ones her and Shade had cuddled in endless fields of.
When Emmery stepped into the garden, the roses yawned open in the moonlight and the night breathed life into them.
They bloomed as she walked along, that same energy pricking her skin.
She crouched to caress a petal, the texture velvety, perfect, pure, and untainted by this world. She didn’t have the heart to pluck it from the ground.
“They are called noxcore,” Zyphira said.
Emmery straightened to stand and inhaled their fragrant sweetness with a lingering spicy nip. The scent reminded her of Aera. Lovely at first, then sassy.
“I would often dream of these,” Emmery said as she continued her walk through the garden. The flowers opened to meet her, a greeting curtsy as their petals unfurled. “Even when I lived across the gate. But I’ve never seen them outside my dreams. I don’t think they exist.”
Zyphira gave Emmery a bloated look as if she meticulously chose her words. “These rare flowers once grew in abundance in the Sacred Lands, but like all else, much has gone extinct there. Similar to the celestial trumpet, these flowers must be nurtured. The seeds are only born of sacrifice.”
Emmery shivered as she recalled the celestial trumpet and its strange, flesh-like petals. The vine had sprouted from the fallen body of a soldier she and Vesper had come upon.
“It is said only true love can grow them and they bloom in the presence of those who have experienced it,” Zyphira continued. “It seems they approve of you, Emmery. In fact, they delight in your presence.”
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Ready to move the conversation along, Emmery said, “I assume you didn’t join me tonight to show me flowers. Is there something you wish to discuss?”
Zyphira waved her hand and a tree stump erupted from the ground. As she took a seat and crossed her legs, she drummed her crooked fingers on her thigh. “I hear you have made a pactum to retrieve your memories.”
Unease swam in Emmery’s gut as she nodded. Perhaps she was in for another lecture like she’d received from Briar and Vesper. But Zyphira’s held much more weight, enough to crush Emmery’s bones. Especially if working with Destonne inhibited the prophecy’s progress and finding Shade.
“Very good,” she affirmed. A cool wind of relief passed over Emmery. “You are on the right path. Your memories will show all you need to know. To bring you and your implexus together. All else will fall into place.”
With a sigh, Emmery strolled to the stump and plunked herself down beside the Oracle. “You could just tell me who he is.”
“I cannot.” Zyphira’s assessing gaze skimmed over Emmery’s face. “There are too many threads. Too many possible paths for you to follow. If I reveal too much, you will fall off course. The future is an ever-changing beast: a phoenix falling to ash only to rise in another form.”
“But I assume there’s one path that is superior to others.”
Zyphira twisted her lips in contemplation and shoved her thick spectacles up her nose. “I suppose. But in every thread where you successfully uncover your memories, you also find your tethered. This is the right choice.”
Emmery rubbed her temples as a new ache formed. “When I find Shade, if I find him, what next?”
“What you do is up to you.”
“You could offer some guidance, you know. A hint or nod of your head. I’ll take whatever I can get,” she said with a morsel of a smile.
Emmery swivelled to face Zyphira as the edges of her vision wavered.
The waking world beckoned. These visits were unpredictable and Emmery didn’t know the next time she would be able to find the Divide.
So she had to move fast. Had to expose this question so it could breathe, and no longer steal the oxygen from her lungs.
After her conversation with Talia about bonds, doubt only expanded inside her like an insidious infection.
“What if—what if he doesn’t want me? Once he realizes who I am and … sees me.”
“He will.” The simple answer chipped away at Emmery’s doubt, but wasn’t enough to crack the surface.
“I know that these bonds aren’t always reciprocated. Can you tell me what to do then? If he doesn’t love me? He could take one look at me and decide to—” The words caught in her throat like overcooked meat. “Walk away. Then what?”
Zyphira reached for Emmery’s hand and held it between two of hers. The Oracle's skin was cold and smooth as stone, like she was truly a figment of Emmery’s mind, a reanimated imaginary friend so she wouldn’t be alone.
“Remember that love is the strongest force of all,” she said, her voice low and full of passion. “It can break any curse. Heal any ailment. Save even the most tortured soul.”
As Zyphira reached up and stroked Emmery’s hair, she leaned into the Oracle’s touch and let her eyes fall shut.
“I see this in every thread. He recognizes all the dark bits you fear are beyond redemption, just as you don’t shrink away from the shadows in him.
He sees all of you, the tapestry of your heart and soul, and he loves you anyway.
” Zyphira squeezed her hand. “It is so very important that you two love one another. That you are loyal and stand at each other’s sides.
If love cannot prevail, then all hope is lost. And you should know, in some threads, it’s not enough. ”
Emmery’s stomach sank and her whole world bottomed out as she stared at the Oracle.
Not enough? That worming doubt told her that perhaps it wasn’t the path and it was her that would never be enough.
That the monster inside her would win.
That the world crumble to ash beneath her own flame.
That her people would burn in the hands of this unstoppable fever.
And, at the end of all of this, she would have only herself to blame.