Chapter 3
Emmerick
The ocean breeze passed through me. I stood before a windowsill, high above the sea, in a room covered in beige tile. Strung seashells hung as curtains, drawn open to allow the salt-soaked air in.
The South Tower.
I recognized it, though I’d only been here twice in my waking life.
The scene blurred at the edges—a memory.
This one was always terrible to witness.
Amara Odili, my birth mother, faced away from a figure clad in black-and-gold armor. Corric Mattock.
When she glanced over her shoulder, the usual brightness in her golden eyes, which matched the hue of mine, dimmed.
“Corric?” Disbelief coated her tongue as she turned to him.
“Amara,” Mattock said, regarding her with cold indifference. “You did not return my letters. Have you considered my offer?”
This memory made me feel torn on whether to hate the late King Mattock—the father I’d never known.
My birth mother’s gaze hardened. “I will not tell you where he is.”
“You’d wish the boy dead instead, Amara? These are your options. Bring him to me, or see him die when Firose finds him.”
I recognized the empty depths of evil in his tone. It was the same way I’d spoken when Caym had control of my mind—when I’d been his envoy. Dark bags rested below Corric’s eyes, his cheekbones protruded, but the rest of his face sunk in.
We’d both been pawns in Caym’s heinous crimes.
“What has Firose done to you? You are talking about our son.”
About me.
Amara crossed the room and cupped my father’s cheek. “Please, Corric. We can fix this. We can build a new life together. We can—”
My hand shot out in anticipation of what came next. Bodiless, and forced to witness the past without agency, I could not help her.
Corric roughly grabbed Amara’s wrists and pushed her until the backs of her knees hit the frame of the open window. Just one shove and she would topple down to the sea cliffs below.
My birth mother’s heartbreak made me bend at the waist, gasping for air like I’d taken a hit to the stomach. All the pain seeped into me. Caym fed off her past anger, her anguish, her desperation, and wielded it against me.
“Stop it!” Mattock growled. His hands trembled. I knew what warred to be released. The same evil lived here with me, in this cursed sleep.
The King’s shoulders slackened, and his grip loosened. He dipped his head of golden hair and refused to meet her gaze.
“I’m so sorry, Amara,” he whispered. “I wish it were all so different. Stay away from me. Keep him away. Keep hiding him.”
Tears streamed down my mother’s dark, rounded cheeks.
Whatever incorporeal form I was in could not cry with her, but I wanted to as she unraveled.
“I can help you,” she whispered, but before she could say another word, he dropped her wrists and hurried to the Egress.
From across the room, he said, “You can’t. I love you, my sunshine.” He turned to enter the carved space in the stone. “To Helos.”
With the command, he was gone. The vision of Amara crumbling to her knees in the South Tower faded to nothing but amber smoke.
“You’re next…” Caym snarled into my ear. “I will destroy everything that you love. I will leave you with nothing.”
I flailed and plummeted down, down, down.
Caym’s cruel laughter enveloped me as I landed with a thud in a glowing amber cave.
Before me stood a gray-cloaked figure. His murky green eyes tracked me over a sharp nose, like a wolf.
Whenever he pulled me to his depths, I felt closer to death—like he could truly reach me, cut me open, and bleed me dry.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I spat, scrambling to my feet with a rage-soaked cry.
The walls jutted out in coarse dark slabs veined with molten red liquid. We stood on a sinking boulder, surrounded by gurgling, boiling lava.
“Are you ready to give in yet, Mattock? Your father was so much easier to break.”
I gritted my teeth. This place appeared more solid and less like a figment of my imagination; I searched for an escape. It felt dangerous to stay here for too long.
“Never,” I growled and swung my fist in his direction. Before I could make any impact, the ground dropped from beneath me.
I tumbled through amber smoke that threatened to tear me limb from limb; it filled my nose with the putrid smell of rot.
My mind proved a terrifying place to live. Every contorted memory fed my despair—I witnessed all the Death Origin’s treachery against me and my loved ones. Again, and again.
Caym haunted me with bloodied visions that blurred together with my own dark memories. He’d made me do unspeakable things, just as he’d done to my father and so many others. Some days, I couldn’t tell whose misdeeds were whose.
He reveled in pulling at my conscience and stoking my self-loathing.
“Give up,” he hissed.
Instead, I fought. There were still people I loved on the other side of this curse. Death would never understand the strength of that unconditional connection.
“Emmerick?” A muddled, wind-torn whisper cut through the roar of angst.
Was this one of Caym’s tricks?
“Can you hear me, puppy?” She drawled out a pet name that I’d once loathed. It sounded like the sweetest nectar rolling off Elsedora Lamoreaux’s tongue.
The chill encasing me snapped away. The last time I’d seen her was the day they cursed me to sleep. Fen’s sister had helped put the binding cuffs on me to contain Caym’s wrath while Krait and Fen held me down.
Yes. I can. I can hear you!
I tried, but no words left me.
“Puppy… I see you. Can you see me?”
I followed the singsong cadence of her voice.
A flash of copper hair, a welcoming smile, and the top of a muddy tunic appeared before me, just a head and torso in the void. Elsedora narrowed her sparkling hazel gaze on me. Sources, she could see me!
“Yes,” I gasped out, barely recognizing the rasp as my voice sputtered to life. “I can see you.”
Warmth flooded my cheeks. For the first time in years, I escaped the cold, cloying darkness. Could I touch her? My limbs felt too heavy, and I couldn’t compel myself to lift my arm through the viscous shadows of the void.
Elsedora broke into a grin. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
She raised a fist.
“None,” I answered as a tear slid down my cheek and over my lips; tasting the salt made my throat burn.
She reached out as though trying to dab away the wetness beneath my eyes with her thumb, but her hand met a barrier between us. “You look awfully tired for someone asleep, pet.”
I nearly choked on my answer. “It isn’t exactly beauty sleep. Have you found a way to defeat him? To wake me?”
Her frown answered my question. “Not yet. Are you… well?” she asked, as she sat down somewhere.
“I’ve been better,” I said. “Where are you? Or… we?”
“I’m in Luz—you are in Luz.”
“For how long?” I breathed in deep; her presence was enough to anchor me, to keep Caym away.
“Three years.”
I winced. Thinking of Sybilla housing me like this—an added responsibility for her—brought me no joy. As she was beginning her marriage to King Darvanda, she should not have to tend to me. “Why Luz? Are my parents well? Who is caring for my… body?”
Elsedora’s brows rose at my rapid spewing of questions.
“Do you really think Sybilla would let you rot away or risk anyone harming you? They’ve charmed your room to attend to your needs and maintain your privacy.
No maids are allowed in. And your parents visit frequently.
All three. Though, Amara has grown distant as of late. ”
My chest burned to think of people visiting me, like a living grave. “How are you speaking to me?”
“I found an enchanted mirror while searching for Isolde’s relics. I don’t know how this works. It feels like old magic. Do you want me to fetch Angeline and Leo? They’ll be so relieved to see you.”
Hearing her speak my parents’ names, knowing they were okay…
it surfaced another tear. Too overjoyed, I couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about blubbering in front of a mere acquaintance.
She’d once been a thorn in my side, poking into my business—now I could have kissed her for this gift of relief.
Elsedora’s beaming expression set me at ease; she was so warm, so openly affable. The light circling her made her look sent by some divine miracle.
“Sources, yes, please,” I blurted.
She chuckled. “I will fetch Sybilla too and—”
“No!”
She straightened with raised brows; her face fell, and instinctively, my hand reached out to stop her.
I’d moved! At least, in here I had.
I hated her disappointment. But the alternative made my skin crawl with discomfort.
“Please. Tell no one else,” I breathed out. All of this was so sudden. One minute, Caym was dragging me through horrid memories. Next, she was offering to fetch my loved ones to speak with me.
If she told anyone else—Sybilla, Asterie, Fenris, Amara—they’d force me to face things I wasn’t ready to yet.
They might even expect me to decide on matters in the North Corridor from this desolate pit of existence. While my head lay safely on a pillow, my mind faced daily attacks.
I’d be of little use to them like this. I’d done enough damage to the North Corridor already. They were better off without my involvement—the further away my friends stayed, the better their chances of securing safety for the realms. But the temptation of seeing my parents was too much to deny.
“You don’t wish to speak to anyone else?” Her nose scrunched.
I shook my head. “No.”
Fenris’ sister had never coddled me. She had not sugarcoated Caym’s influence over me and had been the first to tell me what I’d become. It could be wise to have an impartial voice of reason.
“Well, actually… if you would continue to visit, I’d enjoy that. You can keep me apprised of what is happening. But otherwise, no, I don’t wish for anyone else to know but my parents.” I paused. Realizing that might sound misleading, I added, “Just Angeline and Leo.”
I’d work on forgiving Amara. Despite the torment she’d gone through to keep me safe, she’d still had thirty years to find me. She hadn’t.
“It would be my honor, King Mattock. Plus, I do love a good secret,” she said and winked at me.
“I’d prefer you didn’t call me that.”
I was no King, not here.
I shouldn’t be one out there, either.
“Alright, alright. Puppy, it is then.” She paused and glanced away from the mirror with a playful shrug.
I swallowed hard before asking, “Is she happy?” I didn’t have to say who.
Elsedora nodded. “She is. They have a daughter—Larkspur. The babe turned one today. She’s beautiful.”
I grimaced. “That’s good. I’m glad.” Stiff words for stiff emotions.
Elsedora’s expression softened. “She is good. And while she may have built a happy life, I suspect a part of her heart will always belong to you and she wishes to see you well. She worries. We all worry.”
“You don’t have to humor me. I’m not angry that she found love.” Anger didn’t quite define it.
Her gaze narrowed. “Uh-huh. Very convincing.”
I sighed and scraped a hand across the back of my neck. The coarse hairs there grounded me. “It’s just… seeing her would be a gut-punch reminder of how much time I wasted waiting for her to love me.”
Elsedora reached out as though to tip up my chin. “You wasted nothing. Her daughter—Lark will stop Caym’s rise. Have you thought that maybe you protected Sybilla for all those years for a higher purpose than love?”
I hadn’t considered that.
And it didn’t make me feel better or worse.
“You didn’t used to sound so cynical about love,” I challenged her.
“Tides shift. And here we are,” she said, with a playful roll of her eyes.
I laughed and shook my head, glad she had been the one to discover the mirror’s power.
Elsedora crept up on you like a cool breeze on a sweltering day. She could make light of even the heaviest moments. Beneath that facade of levity, I guessed Caym had laid scars on her too.
I’d seen her posture change the day we left the amphitheater without the Moon-wielder who she’d loved.
I’d walked away without a part of me, too.
My relationship with the disreputable enchantress Firose had been both fleeting and confusing.
She’d been my captor, my friend, my savior, my Source Match.
Elsedora cut through my racing reflections. “I don’t know exactly how this works, but I’m going to go bring your parents here. No one else, I promise. Stay, puppy.”
“Where else in the realms would I go?” I huffed, chuckling at the absurdity of my luck. She’d made such a miraculous discovery, and despite it changing nothing about the curse, the mirror gave me a connection to the world that was not grim or coated with regret.
She smirked, her sun-kissed, freckled cheeks dimpling as she said, “Fair point. But try to stay… here.” She motioned in a circle at my reflection.
After setting the mirror down, she disappeared. I waited in the void for my loved ones.
To my surprise, I didn’t get pulled into the amber depths. My body sang with relief. For the first time in three years, Caym could not reach me to drag me to my next torment. I couldn’t feel his claws sinking into my mind or the heavy tug of his anger.
I held onto that state of being by thinking of all the questions I’d ask when she returned with my parents. I would do as she told me; I’d stay right here.
“Look for the brightest sides of your darkest days,” I whispered my mother’s favorite quip.
Today, that bright side came in the shape of a pretty, wild redhead willing to guard a secret.