Starsdamned mortals. They have no concept of how infinite the cosmos is... and what kind of soul-eating monsters lurk beyond the veil. I feel my chest expand with a breath even though this form has no earthly shape, only the wisps of smoke and darkness of my astral self.
I don’t even know why I’m here.
Venant summoned me, that presumptuous guardian who has somehow taken it upon himself to be my guiding light. I don’t require his advice or his interference. My shadows coalesce and dissipate, rippling hungrily as they bask in the essence of the girl’s akasha. It hums with power, so alluring.
No.No.
“Darrius,” a voice croons as Venant emerges from the gloom like a specter, his form curiously in the shape of an old woman, and a crafty smile on that ancient face.
“Venant.”
The crone cants her head. “I go by Vena now.”
“What do you want?” I ask, uncaring about her preferences or appearance.
“It has been written,” she says, eyes swirling white with power for a moment. “Our worst fears will come to pass... if your path is not walked.”
My shadows writhe and coil like restless serpents, and I glare wrathfully at the lesser deity. “You forget your place, Guardian. My path is not your concern. Do not summon me again.”
Chapter Four
Laleh is lining my eyes with kohl in my bedroom, and I stare at my best friend’s face in the mirror, my heart twisting into knots at the prospect of not having her to talk to. “I wish you were coming with me.”
“Me, too,” she says, pausing midstroke. “Honestly, I’m tempted to hide in one of your trunks.”
“You would suffocate,” I point out.
“We could poke holes in it, and you could feed me treats like a baby monkey. I’m small, and if I pull my knees to my chest, I could fit.”
I snort at her serious expression. “You’ve really thought this through.”
“Honey, I considered sedating you, locking you away, and taking your place before I remembered you’re my best friend. And my lady bits needed to take a breather.”
“Thanks, I think,” I say with a burst of laughter, for which I’m scolded because I’ve marred her perfect lines. Holding my chin gently, she sweeps the pencil upward, correcting the slight smudge, and then dusts a shimmer of gold powder over my cheekbones. “We have very different opinions about going to Kaldari.”
“Yes, yes, I know you’re obsessed with forges and absolutely allthe wrong kinds of pointy things.” She shoots me a wicked smirk. “Though even if you don’t fancy the prince, keep your options open.”
I giggle. “You have a problem.”
“You need a good sticking with a manly sword. A real one. Not these imaginary fictional lovers you like to talk about.”
Laleh is the only one who knows about my very visceral dreams, dreams of a faceless figure who appears when I feel alone. Or scared. Or in need of care. Sometimes he feels more tangible than anything I know, though I’ve never confessed that part. She’ll think I’ve lost all reason, but in recent years, after my majority, my dream lover has become my safe space... my safe harbor. Real men, like Cyrill, come with too many problems to be worth any effort. Fictional men never disappoint.
“Book boyfriends are simply better,” I say.
She shrugs. “Anything’s better than the selection here in Coban. Who knows, you might even find your soul-fated.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought you don’t believe in romance and fate bonds.”
“But you do,” she says. “Those books you read have utterly corrupted you.”
My skin flushes. The idea that there’s someone out there who’s your perfect match in every way is an intriguing one. The romantic tales I love paint pictures of days when soul-fated pairs were more common, chosen and blessed by the magic of the gods. But I know those are only stories.
“There,” she says. “All done. As much as you don’t want to be a princess, you look like one.”
I glance up. She’s made me look... nice. My eyes are glowing within the frame of dark kohl, and my round cheeks have more definition. A pale rose stain on my lips accentuates their shape, and she has artfully curled my unruly locks into a shiny black waterfall. Isquint at the tiniest group of white strands near the left corner of my crown and curse. “Sands, when did I get more gray hairs?”
Laleh peers down. “They’re more colorless than gray. I think it looks badass.”
