Hooking a hand into a handle on the basket, I dragged it closer. Inside were a few different knitting needles. They had a slight curve to both ends, but I was pretty sure with a little practice I could use them. The wool was … not wool, but seemed to knit similarly. I didn’t have any great plan in mind, I just wanted to keep occupied, so I started with a square pattern.
There was no way for me to tell time here. I couldn’t see anything that resembled a clock in the room – no doubt they used something different to measure their days anyway – so I guessed I’d been knitting for an hour when I ran out of the blue thread.
Needing a break, I dropped my half-finished project into the basket, picking up the three paperbacks that were in there too. I didn’t recognize any of the stories, so I chose the one with the cover that appealed to me the most. I was a bit of a cover snob; the “not judging a book by its cover” thing was not something I’d ever been good at.
I chose a fantasy story, with bright imagery of dragons, fire, and waterfalls.
Laying my head back, I got comfortable and started to read. I was five chapters in before I realized it, and when that fact registered I took a second to be grateful for books. They were a magic that could not be replicated, even when I was actually in a fantasy world. The escape they offered, it was priceless. It had saved me so many times, and I knew I wasn’t the only one. When my parents died, most of my friends handed me suicide-crisis-line numbers. The rest ignored me, preferring not to deal with it. Not one had told me to pick up a book. That should have been their first piece of advice.
I managed to make it another few chapters before my heavy eyes won, and…
It’s so hot. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe? The smoke chokes me. Slithering into every part of my body until I feel like I’m dying. I crawled with desperation, unable to see, unable to breathe. Searching for them. Hissing as embers bit into my exposed flesh. As smoke and heat charred my throat and lungs.
I rolled across my bedroom floor, crying out again as more flickers of fire bubbled my skin. Coughs rocked through me, my lungs screaming for air. I dragged myself, busting through the door to my room, ending up in the hallway of the upper level.
The sound of a fight registered in my hazy mind. I was only just aware enough to know that the sobs belonged to my mother. She always gasped like that when she was devastated.
Dad! Something must have happened to Dad. But who was she arguing with?
My crawl slowed, then a scream ripped through the air, jolting me, and I found myself screaming with it. That scream had been my mom, a call of pain, a cry of death.
I jolted upright, my own screams dying on my lips as tears relentlessly fell down my cheeks. I attempted to lift my hands to scrub at my face and throat, trying to dispel the smoke that always seemed to linger. But I couldn’t move them. I was being held in someone’s arms, and as soon as I felt that firm hand stroking up and down my spine, I relaxed into him.
“The fire again?” Lexen said, his voice low and rough.
I pressed my face harder into his chest, trying to stem the tears and calm my heart.
“Yes,” I mumbled. “But there was more this time. It’s like … an extra memory unlocked. My mom, she was crying and arguing with someone. Then she screamed.” I pulled back to stare up into his dark eyes. “I was on the top floor. The building was completely ablaze. There was no way I could have survived without help. No way.”
His grip tightened on me, that hand on my spine pulling me closer.
My chest heaved and I fought against the nausea rising within me. I really didn’t want to vomit on Lexen. “Someone murdered them. The fire … it wasn’t natural. Which of the houses can control fire?”
Darkness fell like a heavy sheen across his face. “Darken – but not all of us. I’m the only one at the moment who can control draygone fire, and I promise you it wasn’t me. Not to mention that sort of flame would have incinerated your house instantly.” Before I could assure him that I’d never suspected his family – they were far too nice – he continued, “The other house with ties to fire is Imperial. They control the land beneath. The underworld. Their domain is the land of death, and they can control the eternal fire.”
I blinked a few times, wrinkling my nose. “The underworld? Like hell?”
Lexen shook his head, the slightest of smiles curving his full lips, although he didn’t exactly look happy. “It’s not as you’re probably imagining. This is a land of judgment. Your soul will be judged at death, and depending on what is found, you can be reborn, or you go into the Cascading Justices. Where you end up after that is up to you.”
“How do the living go there?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around this place he was describing. My family was not religious, but I still understood the concept of heaven and hell. This underworld business was a little more outside of my knowledge base.
“Think of the Greek underworld,” Lexen started to explain. “River Styx and the ferryman. House of Imperial are the ferrymen. They hold the key to entering, and they can do so without having to die. They control the gates and the transporter. They use these powers to keep the souls from doing what they are not supposed to. Going where they are not allowed. From—”
“Escaping?” I supplied.
He nodded. “Yes, there are some who know they’re not going to fare well in the justices, so they try to escape.”
My body brushed against his and I realized how close we were lying together on the bed. Lexen had a shirt on, but I could still feel every one of his rigid chest muscles pressing into my chest. My nipples, which were only secured in this thin sleep shirt, were saluting the world and letting all of us know they were happy with their current position.
I couldn’t bring myself to pull away, choosing to remain wrapped all cozy-like in the darkness. “I was afraid to go to sleep.” My voice was a low whisper. “I knew the dream would—” All that emerged after that was a croak, so I swallowed roughly.
Lexen surprised me when he brushed one of my long strands of hair out of my face. “I tried to wake you.” The low rumble of his voice had my disloyal body reacting even further. “But there was no way to bring you out of the dream. You only calmed down when I climbed in and held you.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I was worried you would hurt yourself. You were thrashing around a lot.”
Rational thought dropped away and instinct took over. I wrapped my arms around him, needing to show how grateful I was. “Thank you. I don’t know why you’re the one who keeps getting stuck with me during these moments, but I promise I’m not normally this broken.” I pulled away before things got uncomfortable. “It’s just been a long week. I’m not handling it very well.”
He pressed his hand into my spine one more time, sending flashes of heat low in my body. I almost rocked forward to try and relieve the pressure building inside of me. I managed to stop myself only because he released me and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. I watched, unable to look away. When he was standing, he met my gaze. “You’re handling it better than most humans,” he said, sounding much more serious than he had before. “You’re actually making a pretty compelling case for the treaty at this point in time. Your government should thank you.”
I swallowed roughly, knowing he was going to leave, but unable to think of anything to say that might keep him here. “Well,” I began awkwardly, “thanks again. I’ll see you in the morning.”
