Heart skittering, I tilt my head. But I can’t see anything – only the same floor of shifting, shimmering clouds beneath me, and the empty sky above. Then, slowly, so slowly it’s hard to tell whether I’m imagining it, the clouds thin. Something rises before me. A shape. I walk towards it. A diamond-shaped island, but transparent. A mirage? The outline sharpens and I gasp.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’
More beautiful than even my wildest imaginings.
The semi-translucent island is carpeted with lush grass and fields of nodding flowers in every soft hue of the rainbow. Waterfalls cascade its edges, and towers of swirling cloud float above – literal castles in the air. The entire island glows, surrounded by its own halo of astral light.
Murmurs of astonishment fill the air. The other members of the Quaternity stand huddled outside the cabin on the mountain ledge, a few paces behind me. The island is drawing level with the ledge. A flowered meadow spreads at my feet. In the distance, I can hear the roar of the falls.
‘What are you waiting for?’Orthriel whispers.
My mouth drops open. It was enough just to see it.
‘Really?’
Orthriel chuckles. The sound is the silvery tinkle of a wind-chime.‘Yes, all of you.’
‘But…’I look up at the peak of the Astral Mountain.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long. Besides…’A shadow colours their voice.‘I have something for you. You have to come.’
My brandsong growls at the hardening in Orthriel’s tone, but I’m too excited to worry about what it means. Nimbi hovers close enough that I could jump across to it – but how? It’s shimmering vapour, as much an illusion as Orthriel’s body.
‘Trust me.’
I lift my foot.
‘What are you doing?’ Astrophel rushes forwards.
My heart is drumming in my ears, my stomach knotted, but I smile over my shoulder. ‘Orthriel, they’re… they’re alive. The cielsylphs are granting us permission to visit Nimbi.’
He shakes his head, reaches for my hand. ‘You’ll fall. Be dashed to pieces.’
‘Listen to him, don’t do anything stupid,’ Blayze growls. He takes a clumsy step towards me.
But the island is calling me.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
What’s one more step?
*
MYFOOTMEETSearth. The mirage solidifies at this first brush of contact. The ground gives slightly beneath my boot. Tall grass brushes my calves. I trail my fingers over the translucent petals of the breeze-blossoms surrounding me like a sea on all sides, fragile and vibrant as panes of jewelled glass. The great waterfall, whose roar I heard from the mountain ledge, cascades in the distance. It looks – feels – so real, but everything on the island shimmers – a sign I’ve crossed to an Aethereal plane. This is all an illusion.
And yet, the island is bearing my weight. I’m not hurtling through the air to my death as Astrophel and Blayze feared, and I’m able to trace the delicate petals of the flowers. They tinkle like bells with each caress of the wind, just as Orthriel said they would. Even though magic is fading here, it’s still potent. Though I don’t understand how it works, what’s real and what’s not. Calm descends over me like a feathery mist, gently blunting my senses as I wend my way across the field – the effect not unlike that of spritesong. I resist the urge to rub my eyes or pinch myself, to make sure I’m not in the ice-cabin, dreaming all this.
The air is weighted by the scent of nectar. For the first time in moons, I’m not cold anymore. I’m not warm either; there’s no temperature here. But I can breathe properly. I draw lungfuls of Aether-infused air deep into my lungs. With each breath, my worries melt away, dissolving like snowflakes on my tongue, until even my fear for my mother grows remote and hazy, like some half-remembered dream.
I turn towards rustling sounds. It’s Astrophel, followed by the other members of the Quaternity. Their wide eyes reflect my own dazed wonderment. Tansy lags behind the others, examining the flowers.
From the corner of my eye, I notice the air warping, rippling, brightening. I whip my head around as a halo of opal flame roars into life. The waxen scent of lilies fills the air. Orthriel. Their face is gaunt, their corporeal form thin and flickering. Even here, on Nimbi, the glow of their heartcrystal is horribly weak.
‘I’ll recover here,’they say, reading my thoughts. Before I can press further, the air warps again. But this time it’s like the whole sky is rippling. I shrink back as a collective inhale rasps behind me. Blayze swears under his breath, and Serafine squawks overhead as a host of cielsylphs materialise in unison – a ring of opal flames, a wreath of burnished visages surrounds me. My heart stutters in the face of so much fearsome beauty, so many unblinking silver eyes.
They draw closer, their movements deft and darting – unnervingly inhuman. Despite the bodily illusions they don to make themselves more palatable to us and to ease communication, they are not mortals. Could never be mistaken as such.
One steps forwards, spreading their arms. They’re taller than Orthriel and even sharper-featured. ‘My name is Reuel. You are most welcome on our island, Princess. You remain our guests, and under our protection, while you stay with us.’
