Nydmjir: The King of Primordials. Realm Walker.
Isaiah looked at me. “Why would Nismera have a statue of him here?” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
We looked him up and down again before we split, moving in opposite directions to inspect him further. Isaiah and I had worked together for so long that we often acted with one mind. We met up again at the backside of the statue, neither of us having found any clue as to why Nismera would have this Primordial immortalized in stone. Nismera had lovers as we all did, but she favored none. There had been none that she had kept or loved. The one that I thought she might care for was Vincent, and he’d left her the second he got the chance.
I shrugged, and we turned to the back of the atrium without speaking. There was another small hall that split into two directions. Stairs led up on both sides, but I did not see the raven. I didn’t even feel the cold to tell me which way we should go.
“I’ll take the left,” I told Isaiah. “You take the right. If she shows. Lie and find me.”
Isaiah looked at me sharply, but then nodded and started up the steps. Zasyn’s voice repeating in my head,He’d follow you anywhere.I just hoped it wasn’t to his death.
I took the steps two at a time. Everything was still quiet, no voices or whispered movement. The only heartbeat I heard was mine. Upstairs, an assortment of tables and chairs greeted me. This area had been made into a beautiful reading area, filled with flowers and art collected over the years. This looked like her living quarters, and it was odd that I’d never thought about her rooms.
Curious, I strode through to the door at the back. The twisted gold handle gave way beneath my hand, and it opened on silent hinges. Lights flared on the walls, softly illuminating the beautiful room beyond.
Nismera’s scent was everywhere here. I knew this had to be her space, but I was shocked that she had kept this all so hidden. Why? I walked to the center of the room and spun, taking in the eclectic decor. Assorted suits of armor were displayed along one wall, and I recognized many of them as what remained of warriors who had tried and failed to kill her. Swords and shields hung behind them. They were obviously well-used weapons and not just for show. Against a wall of windows was a sitting area, consisting of a long circular couch wrapped around a long glass table with what looked like small fish swimming around inside.
I shook my head and moved deeper into the room, wandering down a hall to find a closet that was too full for one person, a few bathrooms, and a small room with more lounge chairs, bookshelves, and a desk. Walking back out, I headed in the other direction and tried to open the next door I came to, but was surprised to find it locked. With one quick twist of my wrist, it snapped, and I pulled it open.
Light flooded in, revealing her bed chambers. The same opulent design was reflected here. The bed could easily accommodate twenty beings and was draped with expensive furs and blankets. A fireplace was built into the far wall, with a small living area in front of it. Cool air curled through the room, but it wasn’t frigid. One side of the room was wide open, a cool breeze curling lazily through the air. The balcony outside was like a second room. Through the cream-colored drapes, I could see more comfortable chairs, couches, and small tables arranged into intimate seating areas.
My chest tightened, and my heart raced. A cool breeze tickled at the back of my neck as if Death was confirming I was here for a reason. I didn’t understand what I was looking for, but I turned the room upside down. I searched like a madman, tossing covers and mattresses aside, looking for whatever I was meant to find. Something rose within me, a hidden anger toward Nismera, and the destruction started to feel satisfying. I kicked over the dresser and tossed the other furniture, feeling a frisson of satisfaction when it splintered against the walls. My gaze fell on the fireplace, and I strode to it, running my hand over the mantle and pushing against every stone. Nothing stuck out, nothing moved, I found no trap door or secret compartment.
I spun, raking my hand roughly over my face. What the fuck was I doing besides losing my godsdamned mind? Rage filled me, and I kicked at the rug, startled when I heard a loud snap. I crouched down and yanked aside the red and gold tassel rug. Beneath it, I saw a piece of the floor that had shifted, no longer fully connecting with the other tiles.
I pushed at it, and it gave way, sliding back on itself. The dark vault revealed beneath the floor was clean and lined, but it seemed to hold only one thing. I lowered to my knees and grabbed the old rustic trunk. I pushed to my feet and carried it to one of the chairs I had tossed. Righting it, I placed the chest down and flipped the lid open, surprised to see it filled with a jumble of letters and notes. I reached in and grabbed one.
The worn paper was brittle beneath my touch. It was dated before Isaiah and I were born, but the script was very familiar.
My father is blind if he can’t see how truly perfect you and I are for each other. Secret glances at meetings and stolen kisses aren’t enough to satisfy me, Nydmjir.
—N
As I sorted through more of the letters, the statue began to take on more meaning. They were all love notes, back and forth, admissions of wants and desires, and secret meetings between the two. My brows furrowed when I came across the marriage proposal and her acceptance. I had never heard of any of this. I didn’t know they had even known each other, much less fucked and married. It didn’t make sense. A union between the two should have ended any hostility and sealed peace, yet the Primordials raised their arms once more and were ended.
I dug around through the chest some more, finding random missives concerning policies, transactions, payments, lists of supplies, and deeds. These were all things that my father would have dealt with. There was an old map of Rashearim that was nothing short of a masterpiece. I angled it toward the light, wanting a better look at the details. A note lifted from the chest and clattered to the floor. An icy wind rushed in, twisting at the brittle folds until it fluttered open. I glanced toward the balcony. The drapes didn’t move, but I still felt the frigid touch of the air. I picked it up and unfolded the fragile paper until the old, worn words came into view.
To The Council of Rashearim,
My departure is abrupt, but the circumstances are equally so. I must meet with the great council while I can. When Zasyn and I return, we shall discuss the matter further. Athos is to hold my seat until my return. Any questions or issues are to be directed toward her.
Unir 47 DU
A concussion of shock racked my bones and encompassed my thoughts. If the date and time were correct, that would mean Unir wasn’t present when he locked us in Yejedin. I shook my head. That was impossible. I still saw his cold, hateful eyes as he locked us in that prison realm, felt the rush of air that was all the goodbye we got after we’d slaughtered our grandfather, who’d raised his blade first. I remembered the feeling of my nails breaking against that door as Isaiah and I had tried and failed to claw our way out. Yet this letter seemed to refute what I knew to be the truth, signed and dated in his royal decree.
Blood thrummed in my veins, my pulse quickening. No, this was wrong. I’d seen him that day, spoke to him as he lied and led us to a place we’d never return from. We had followed him so willingly, so trustingly, and then he had abandoned us. Nismera had nearly had to break down the damn realms to free us. That was the truth. It had to be. This had to be false, yet it was hidden in her room, buried beneath a sealed floor.
“Find what you were looking for?” Nismera asked from the doorway.
I didn’t startle. I just lifted my head to look at her, the note still in my hand. “What is this?” I asked. Begged. Lie to me, at least. Tell me that Death puppeteered all of this for his own twisted use of us. Please let this be false. If not, it would not only change everything but break reality into a million unimaginable pieces.
I held the letter between us, the worn ink facing her, and held my breath. She stalked forward, moving smoothly in her battle gear. It looked as if she’d just jumped off her ryphor, and having sensed me, came straight here. She stopped in front of me and grabbed the letter from me with a frown.
“It looks like a formal decree meant for the high council.” Her eyes flicked to mine, and whatever part of my sister I loved and valued dissolved before my very eyes. She smiled, and if she had been born with fangs, they would have shown. “Of course, it never made it.”
28
KADEN
