“Stay here.” He moves off without bothering to wait for my reply. The arrogance of him.
Crouching down, I press against the wall, grateful for its solidity. Darkness stamps the space before my eyes. I fight the shudder that runs through me.I am safe, I think, but am I, truly? I imagine a candle, a fire, lamplight, the sun. A floral aroma teases my senses, reminding me of Thornbrook’s lush, manicured grounds.
“Zephyrus.” An unfamiliar male voice drags through the dark in a low, faint rasp. “I did not expect you so soon.”
“Ever the obedient servant,” he drawls. “You call, I answer. Is that not how this relationship works?”
There is a pause. “Zephyrus,” says the man. “I called for you three months ago. I do not appreciate being kept waiting.”
My mouth parts soundlessly. This must be the keeper of Zephyrus’ name. He who holds power over the Bringer of Spring.
“Not that it’s any of your concern,” he responds insouciantly, “but I was visiting my brother.”
Whoever he speaks to laughs. It is a sound made of fragments, spewed forth. “I’m surprised your brother wanted to see you. But how is Boreas?”
“He is well. He and his wife are aptly suited.” The hesitation is so slight I nearly miss it. “I have not seen him this happy in a long time.”
“Do I detect jealousy?” I hear the smile in his voice, and its oily quality slips beneath my skin. “You had your chance at happiness. You do not deserve another.”
“Do you not grow tired of this?” Zephyrus snaps out. “I am here. Let that be enough.”
A scuffling sound in the darkness: something massive being dragged across stone.
“It will never be enough.” Ice coats the clipped response. “I had hoped you would have realized that.”
It is heavy, this quiet, all the world a void.
A heavywhumpinterrupts the silence, as though something wallops the ground. In a conversational tone, the man adds, “Who is the mortal woman you have brought to Under? I daresay I would like to meet her.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and I press deeper into the crevice. How? I’ve made absolutely no sound.
“I do not believe the lady would be comfortable in your presence. This is her first visit to Under, and she is already overwhelmed.”
“Do you imply I will frighten her?”
“No implication necessary. I know it to be true.”
Another hoarse cackle. “You have always entertained me, Zephyrus. Bring the girl. I wish to exchange words with her.”
The jagged wall jabs into my spine so severely the vertebrae will likely bruise by morning. I cannot flee, lest I lose myself and remaintrapped here forevermore. Before me, the grassy path extends toward whoever speaks with that abrasive tone.
A shrill cry of pain cuts through the passage, and my heart shrivels as a wave of cold sweeps through me. It sounded like Zephyrus.
“You continue to test me, Bringer of Spring. Bring the girl, and make haste. I have waited long enough.”
Crouched within the recess, I stare unblinkingly at the lightless passage, willing something to take shape. No footsteps reach my ears. But I am not surprised when, moments later, Zephyrus emerges from the inky mouth of the tunnel, a small pink orb aglow in his palm.
Something in his face has changed, the warped angles cut into new severity. Then it comes to me. His mouth no longer holds the shape of laughter.
“I don’t want to go,” I whisper.
“You are wise to feel this way.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw, up into his hair. The glass sphere trembles in his grip. “Come. We do not want to anger him.”
One, two, three heartbeats later, I still haven’t moved. “Will he kill me?”
Zephyrus strides forward, grass hissing beneath his boots. He is frighteningly grave. “No. He is curious as to why I’ve brought you here. He’s likely contemplating how best to use this to his advantage—use you as a tool to control me.”
I swallow to bring moisture to my mouth. What manner of creature awaits me on the other side of this gloom? “What’s his name?”
