35. Nuummite
My dreams are pure light. The god-touched shine of Estela as a statue suspended in time and space. A vessel of radiance that warmed my entire soul to see her soar. Speaking with a god.
Mygod.
The memory is as intricate as the veins of metal that form between slabs of rock and the channels of lava that flow through the earth beneath my feet. When I try to touch her light in my dreams, it dims a little compared to letting it just… exist.
Then, a scene fades back into my thoughts. More ghosts locked away in the back of my consciousness.
My eyes open slowly, but the light above blinds me as the heat from beneath scorches me. I feel the mountains roll and the channels of magma carefully left unseen by the overworld pulse. They are drawn upward toward the same magic that keeps me from seeing.
The light shifts into something molten and hot, boiling my blood and cooking me from the inside out.
I scream.
The pain momentarily subsides enough for me to see my father standing atop the castle, arms outstretched toward the volcano he created.
“Orfka ir asuso, hlumgla estra…”
My stomach drops, and I move to grab him, only to find myself bound as I thrash back and forth. The chains bite into my wrists. I growl, but my father doesn’t move from his spot. I pull with all my strength, searching for my power as the earth roils beneath us, causing the palace to quake. With one last roar, I pull apart the chains. They are raw against the hot air, but I grasp onto him first.
“What are you doing?” I scream.
His trance breaks, and his black eyes focus on me.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?” he demands, his face filled with ugly black swirls. I hold tight onto his arms, bringing them down to his sides. He makes a guttural noise. “Stop! I’m doing this for the world. If we don’t destroy it now, one day it will destroy us!”
I shake his shoulders, “What are you talking about? The threat to the world isn’t the giants or elves—it’s you.”
He looks as if I had slapped him.
“You are my son!” he screeches. “You will obey!”
I shake my head. “No. Not anymore,” I growl.
Then, he shoves me. Hard. I stumble and fall toward one of the rails. My hands rip on the stone, and I pant as I look at Iravida. It’s a sea of red and orange, and the mountain we had existed peacefully next to has rivulets of lava flowing down at an eerily fast pace. The ash-filled air whips around me while sparks of lightning glimmer over the mouth of the mount.
I have to do something.
The land has already begun to collapse. Screams somehow rise above the sound of the earth shifting and rending beneath us.
Vann is below, and there are hundreds of others trying to flee.
Without questioning myself, I whip around and grab my father by the shoulders.
“Stop!” I cry. I’d turned a blind eye to all the wrongs in the past, but this was too far.
My father was revered as one of the most powerful men in the land. How could he be reduced to such insanity?
He shoves me hard. “I’m doing this for our people!”
The words fracture my heart, and each piece breaks off and sinks into the destruction. He has to be stopped.
I look around.
It’s just us.
The answer comes, clear as crystal: it’s my job to end this.
“Please,” I beg. “I won’t ask you again—stop this!”
He turns to me, eyes glowing with hands raised. “I will not.”
Panic takes hold. I rush forward and push with all my might. He sways and then falls to the depths of lava below, and I don’t even look.
A father who had used me all my life, hungry for power, gets no more of my care. Instead, as my hands burn, I look down to find light sinking into them. It seals the bloody scrapes and makes them ignite with fire.
I turn back to the heat of the volcano and hold my hands up. A power that was not there before stirs.
I had always been strong—my family was blessed with a vast well of magic, but this is something… more.
The force of the eruption threatens to draw me out and swallow us whole.
I demand it to stop.
Hundreds of thousands were already dead.
Maybe millions.
But I could stop it from taking everyone.
Slowly, the lava comes to an end, and the ground quiets. Then, the ground beneath my feet begins to crumble.
Screams pierce my skull. There are flashes of red, ochre, and yellow. They slosh with a vibrant heat that scorches to the core. It crashes over our home as we stand, helpless.
Everything sinks into the sea.
A sensation of being terrifyingly weightless comes as the stones of our tallest tower fold to the ground. A rock lands over my leg, and I call out in pain. For the first time in months, after all the killing and the seduction, I think myself ready to welcome death.
Instead, a large blue hand is thrust into the rubble. “Teo!” Vann yells. “Grab on!”
A light to my left draws me out of slumber.
Slowly, my eyes blink open. The hunter assigned to wait for us in the Parting Cave must’ve brought us back to the king’s suite because that is where I returned to consciousness.
Every part of my body is sore from the endless swimming. Though the royal pools had made swimming feel like something out of a dream, actual hours spent traversing through the deep is more challenging than running through sand. My skin is sore from chafing against the crystal suit and sticky with sweat.
Estela’s weight rests heavily on my arm, and I lean down to kiss the top of her head as she continues to sleep.
She… glows.
Faintly. Even now. The aura of her soul never fully turned off.
In this silent moment, I allow myself the luxury of watching this creature in my arms while pain churns in my soul over the memory. It is a small pleasure to know how much we have grown since she’s returned. Each piece of her is my treasure, from the stories of her raising her brother to the way that she laughs so carefreely around her fellow humans.
How can I tell her of my deepest shame?
We’ve spent the month working through each of her memories, and mine have been buried under grief, Lijasa, and the aftermath of the war.
I’ve tried so hard to erase every inch of my father from my mind, and yet… a part of him has clawed its way back out.
She stirs, arching her back into the movement for a second before letting out a groan.
She likely is as sore as I am.
A problem deeply needing to be fixed.
Later.
Another flash lights up the crystal near my bed that my councilors use to communicate with me, and I extricate my arm from under her head as gently as I can. Though she stirs again, she never fully comes awake, not even as I wash away grime and sweat, change my clothes, and fix my hair. It has been long since my own fingers wove my braid. I wish to stay in this room, to tell her of what I have seen, but instead, I open the door.
As I quietly close the door behind me and hurry out, I find Lothar waiting for me with a grim expression.
“Lord Lothar,” I say, almost surprised to see him after so long healing.
He dips into a bow. “My King, I hope you are well. There has been a problem with two of the new Enduares.”
I groan, memories of yesterday rushing back.
They led us to the chasm where we found the artifact. Endu must’ve sent them back with us. “What now?”
Lothar shifts his weight to his good leg. “They awoke an hour ago, and they have already scared the children and some of the humans by running naked through the tunnel to… hunt.”
“Gods-damn them all. Where are they?” I demand.
He nods and leads me through the halls toward the throne room.
I sweep in, tail swishing, and my eyes narrow as I look at them, seated on stone chairs, wearing nothing. They seem unaffected even though seven hunters point their weapons at their throats.
Vann is there, bearing his familiar cleaver and scowling.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I shout at them.
Ka’Prin looks up at me. “You knew that our clothes were mostly destroyed underwater. You saw our stained camps…”
“There are plenty of clothes in Enduvida; you could’ve asked someone.”
Ner’Feon frowns. “We tried to ask the human women you told us of, but they did not understand our words even though we spoke in the common tongue.”
I press my palm to my forehead. We had no time to discuss the same measures I’ve been careful to implement with the others in my court, but I can already imagine what a woman would think with a tall blue creature skulking around with glinting knives and ball sacks hanging low.
“I am sure there were clothes in the house you were taken to,” I insist.
The two of them glance at each other.
“We wanted to catch a kill for our first meal—to show our usefulness to the court. Perhaps to catch the eye of one of these women you say we can mate with. They are… small. Like your bride,” Ka’Prinn says.
I groan, but he isn’t finished.
The Enduar curls his lip. “Humans are ugly in many ways. Strange.”
“Not strange,” I growl.
Ka’Prinn continues, “Then soft.They will bear us small younglings, and their… overabundance will soon dilute our race. It is disappointing to spend my life serving your father’s orders only to be rewarded with a half-meal.”
They want strength and power. Dominance.
I walk forward, slam my fist into his face, and use the same aching fist to grab his braid and yank it back.
His eyes flash.
“First. Keep your poison inside your body where it can only hurt you. You don’t speak to the humans, nor will you ever breathe those words in any inch of Enduvida. Those humans have been treated poorly by the hands of men—giants and humans alike. They have become our people, and I’ll die before we add Enduares to that list.”
Then I switch back and forth between Ka’Prin and Ner’Feon.
“Second, you will be clothed at all times that you are in a shared public space. Third, no hunting unless you coordinate with Lord Lothar.” I jerk my head to the man at the side.
Lothar steps forward. “I lead the hunters.”
I point a finger. “If you wish to join us, you will listen to everything he says.”
They watch us with mistrustful, deadly eyes as I release Ka’Prinn.
“I understand that you are eager to rejoin your people. But much has changed in fifty years. We have new traditions, a new life. This life is gentle and structured, but kind. Humans are our salvation. Learn to soften your edges, or we will banish you to the water.”
The weight of the words sinks in as I bark the orders at them, much like their general.
Ner’Feon looks at me and stands. “And if one of us decides that we would challenge you after all?”
Anger singes at my spine and makes the tips of my ears grow hot. “Do it. It will not be a hard challenge for me to ram a sword through your naked chest.”
He huffs out said chest, and every hunter in the room tenses.
Vann laughs. “You are a fucking simple-minded fool, Ner’Feon. Really, you didn’t seem this thick in your camp.”
I raise my eyebrows at Ner’Feon’s challenge. “Do you think any of my men would obey you if you killed me? You want to lead this group, but we don’t function in such ways. They would kill you within the very minute my heart stopped beating.”
The hunters around the room nod in agreement.
Ner’Feon slides back into submission. “You made a blood oath that you would bring the rest of us home to fight in your battle.”
I take a deep breath. These men already have their Fuegorras. They will be powerful, and we have over a hundred more to bring back to this city.
“I will send a team after Mrath meets with us,” I say with finality.
“And how long will that take?” Ka’Prinn demands..
“I do not know. The others have waited since the Great War. An extra week or two will not be the end of everything,” I say evenly.
He glowers at me with a look that could cut through steel. Let him be angry if he uses the fury to change.
“We will go back to our dwellings,” he says, standing. I nod to Lothar, who takes his hunters with him as they follow the men out.
“Your food will be brought to your home. Speak with your new leader, so that he may put you to work,” I say as they stomp out.
As soon as they are gone, I relax once more and look at Vann. He glares at the exit, fuming.
“How dare they say those things,” he grumbles.
I raise my eyebrows. “Not too long ago, you were as angry as they are about the humans.”
Vann turns back to me. “That was then. I have since learned they have their value.”
I narrow my eyes and assess him. “They most certainly do.”
He jerks his head around, and I see the faintest glimmer of light on his neck.
My eyes widen. “Have you found a mate among the humans?”
It all makes sense, the softening, the gentleness. The longing looks at Arlet and the threats of death against Joso.
His expression looks shocked, and his hand flies to his neck.
“What do you mean?” he demands.
I grab his hand and tear it from the spot on his neck that now looks dull. I frown, so assured of what I had seen moments before. “Hmm. Your neck is dark, brother.”
He steps back. “Of course it is. My heart belonged to my betrothed Adra and none other. Recognizing the value in allies means absolutely nothing else.”
I nod. “Rightly so.” I straighten. “I am sorry that we have not had enough time to speak in depth of your time here while I was gone.”
He waves me off. “There will be time once this all is finished.”
The solemnity twists my features downward. “But what if there isn’t?—”
“We will make it through. There will be time,” he says firmly. “Also, the artifact was removed from Estela and placed in the viewing room.”
“Thank you.” I think about going into the deep.
It had seemed simple, right on the scrolls. In the library, I could plan every aspect, as I did with the elves. But the magnitude of life sometimes cannot be contained to words on a page. It demands to be lived in every ugly, awful way.
Some of us will die when we kill Rholker. Several of us already have. It is a lot to ask for the promise of a healed future when we cannot guarantee that.
But hope is sometimes enough payment for great risk.
“I have been meaning to ask you about your tail. Were you injured?” he says, pointing to the bald tip. The one that was shaved.
I clear my throat as new images flood into my mind, then smile. “No. It was for Estela,” I say proudly. Even mentioning her name now reminds me that I wish to go to her and speak of my nightmare, but Vann’s face keeps me here for a few moments longer.
His brows furrow.
“What could she have possibly needed that for?” he asks seconds before his eyes widen.
I give him a look full of meaning. “Her pleasure is my commandment.”
He sputters. “What in the gods’ grey caves could the humans do with—” Vann abruptly cuts off and stiffens, and the song in my chest that swirls around me day and night, never truly leaving me alone in silence when she is in the city with me, starts up.
He bows and clears his throat as he sees Estela enter the room.
“My Queen. I was just leaving.” Estela nods at him, and he hurries away.
I look at the luminosity casting away shadows within the throne room.
My mate. The Daughter of the Light Weaver.
“Mi amor,?1” I say slowly. “I was about to come find you.”
She moves with an unsure grace and smiles. “Mi vida?2,” she murmurs as she glides into my arms. “What troubles you?”
I brush my fingers over her hair. “My father.”
She stills. “Did something happen?” I see the way her eyes harden, ready to fight every one of my demons. Her loyalty touches me.
“No, just memories from the past. I dreamt of… the day my father wielded the volcano to destroy my home,” I say softly.
Her eyes study my face. “You can tell me all about it, if you’d like.”
Such kind words strike a chord in my chest. When I first woke up, I just wanted to unload every word upon her, to deal with my shame. It has been long since I have faced the reality of what I’d done—killing my father to save those who were left.
I worry what she will think of me. Would she compare me to him? Or, perhaps Rholker, the one who also killed his father to keep her captive?
She waits patiently, and the words she spoke to me after we arrived in Enduvida return.
I know what you are. I am safe with you.
I take her hand in mine. “Grief… addles the mind, I suppose. I have thought of the volcano and the endless days that came after so many times. But last night, I was forced to remember that it was I that ended the explosion. I pushed him into the lava. I killed him.”
Her hand reaches up and cups my face. “You saved hundreds.”
My eyes burn as I place my hand over hers. I feel fragile, like I might crumble under the slightest tremor. “What kind of man kills his father?”
“A man who puts goodness above blood. The best kind of man.” She holds me tightly. “Sometimes it frightens me how similar we are. In all this time, you have been so gentle with me about my memories, now it is my turn to care for you. I need you to know that my heart aches for everything you have lived through. I hope you know that I see you and know who you are. I love that person. Please don’t be unkind to him. What he did was heroic.”
My heart fills with so much love I could burst. The road to this point was not easy, but to let someone see you so fully, and not run? That is what I imagine Vidalena is like. Warm. Perfect.
When I press my hand into the tender muscles of her lower body, she whimpers. “What is wrong?” I demand, still filled with protectiveness after her display of unconditional love.
She shakes her head. “I am well. It’s just… every inch of my body hurts.”
I look down at her. “Would you like me to rub your aching muscles?”
She leans her weight more fully against me, and I instinctively sweep her off her feet and walk to the throne. As we sit down, she looks up at me.
“Do I… look different?” she asks.
I smile. “You look like the sunrise and a sun-soaked sky.” I brush some of her hair from her face.
She smiles and leans into the touch.
“Do you know, when I left the cave after you’d been taken, I felt the sun on my skin in a way I hadn’t for a long time. It made me feel… alive. All while I was dead after you’d gone. How fitting that your god-touched gift made you glow like my own personal sunshine.”
She shakes her head. “You speak like a poet, sometimes.”
I stroke her cheeks. “I do love the poets of my past.”
“One day, I will read them all. I’ve been learning so much with Ulla,” she says.
I nod, marveling. Yesterday we were at the depths of the cave, conversing with a deity.
And now… we are as we’re meant to be. Together. Peaceful.
We luxuriate in the calm before the storm.
I cast such sad things from my mind and study every inch of her. The first time I held her, she was a hissing, wounded creature covered in dirt and rage. She is still hard, but it is beautiful how quickly love changes a person. The magic of my people let me see her for who she was before she changed.
“I am sure you will read them all. You are a spectacular woman—In the time I’ve known you, you’ve learned to read and speak much of my language, and you brought thirty-three women to their freedom. You introduced plants to a sunless cave. You escaped from the giant king. Spoke to a god. Swam the depths of the sea. You are the next wise woman.”
Her eyes line with silver. “But there is so much I haven’t done. My brother… the others…”
“You will do it all in time,” I say, utterly sure.
“Liana showed me a few cards. One spoke about death. I worry…” her brow furrows. I place my hand on it.
“No more worrying. I don’t doubt our future, and neither should you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” she whimpers.
“Yes, you do,” I respond, drawing her into a kiss. Her arms slide around my neck, and her legs shift until they straddle my hips. She rocks forward once, and the sore pain in my body is soon replaced with want. It flushes out everything else except the woman in my arms. My hands fall to her soft bottom and squeeze.
She moans at my mouth. “Perhaps we should go back to our room,” she says with a smile.
I pin her with a stare. “I think I prefer to stay right here. On our throne.”
Her eyes go wide. “But what if?—“
“If you do not wish someone to see, then I suggest you take your pleasure quickly,” I say firmly.
Her cheeks flush as she reaches for the laces of my breeches. The moments are not soft and gentle; they are quick and full of need. When we are both spent, she falls against me.
A queen delighted upon her throne.
A good omen.