“How did I get here?” I asked in a hollow voice that sounded foreign even to my own ears.
“You don’t remember?” he wondered.
I shook my head.
“Hm,” he hummed. “I’ve heard the River of Mists can render some people unconscious or even take one’s memories away when they cross it.”
“Or fucking Leslo can punch you in the face and knock you unconscious,”I thought but said nothing. Leslo wasn’t important right now, he never really was.
“There are portals that connect the worlds to the River of Mists wherever its stream touches them,” Kye said.
“Where are they? And what do these portals look like?”
“They’re peppered throughout our world and yours. Some are more visible and impossible to miss. Others are just a patch of pink shimmer over a body of water. Many only open at a specific time of day. And some eventually disappear altogether.” He narrowed his eyes at me, a sly smile lifting a corner of his mouth. “Are you plotting an escape, my little vixen?”
I had no energy to fight him on that newest nickname. “Just trying to understand this world I had no idea even existed a few hours ago.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “As far as I know, there are no portals anywhere around here anyway. The closest one is near the shores of Sarnala, the kingdom of werewolves. It’d take hours to swim to it for a siren. For you...” He paused, as if stumbled on a thought. “Do humans swim?”
“Some of us do,” I replied mechanically, my mind processing what he’d just told me.
“How about you? Can you swim?”
“Yes. But I’ve never swam for hours.”
Even for a strong swimmer like me, I didn’t think it’d be possible to do without years of intense preparation.
“Well, either way, you’re not a siren. It would likely take days for you to swim there,” Kye crushed any hope of that crazy idea.
No, I was not a siren. But neither was Leslo.
“How did Leslo get here then?” I asked.
“Thebrack?He must’ve come through another portal.”
“What doesbrackmean? Why do you call him that?”
“Because there is no other word for the creature that he is,” Kye explained. “Like allbracks, he was born a werewolf, then given in service to Goddess Ghata as a child. She made him her slave and bound him to her with the magic of the body art on his neck and right arm, altering his very being. He’s no longer a werewolf, but abrack. He no longer worships the Moon Goddess but Ghata, who was supposed to be the embodiment of the moon. Corrupted by her incessant thirst for power, Ghata was exiled from Nerifir long ago, but she took herbrackswith her. They’re the ones who continue doing her bidding. She owns them, body and soul.”
“Sheownsthem? That’s despicable.” As much as I despised Leslo, he didn’t deserve that fate. No one did.
“There is nothing more cruel than the attention of a corrupt god,” Kye agreed. “Rumor has it the goddess has been defeated in your world by now, but the River of Mists is a capriciousentity. It still sendsbracksto our time occasionally on Ghata’s errands from the time when she was still alive.”
I tried to focus through the haze of shock and exhaustion.
“How can she send them on an errand when there is such a slim chance they’d ever come back to her?”
“Corrupt or not, Ghata is still a goddess. Or shewasa goddess before her demise. A powerful one too. She pulls thebracksback to her own time, defying the unpredictable current of the River of Mists.”
“So, it’s possible to defy the River of Mists then?”
“For those with divine powers, yes, but you have no powers at all, do you, my precious Maren?” he replied smugly, and I wished I could slap that smirk off his face, without turning into glass, of course.
So I just turned my back to the king and wearily stumbled behind the screen to my bed.
“Good night, my dear,” the king wished cheerfully. “I’m looking forward to our time together tomorrow.”
“Fuck you,”I thought, not bothering with an answer out loud.“Fuck this palace with its monsters, and fuck this entire world that became my prison.”
