And thisPhantimèssaI kept hearing.
What did it mean? Why were they calling me that?
My heart rate rose. Blood pumped through my limbs as my adrenaline swelled. Suddenly, I was ready to claw my way out of here if that’s what it came down to.
The ghostly creature floated in place. Khaziah slipped backward, distancing herself from the intruder and me. Like she could sense a battle brewing, and she didn’t want to get caught in the middle. The Lowerrank was wise. There would be a kerfuffle. And I had no intention of losing.
“What is a Nanmiess doing in Hallowed territory? How are you not in one of the Six Hèls?”
I pulled more blackfire into my palms. I blinked at the soul, perplexed. Nanmiess were a strange phenomenon. They weren’t alive, but they weren’t entirely dead either. They existed in a spiritual limbo, embodying the mind, will, and emotions of theformer beings they once were the essence of. This soul could have belonged to an angel once. Even a Faerèth, though I couldn’t imagine how the living soul of a fae would end up here in Everthorn Manor.
The Nanmiess, Saundeiah, smiled.
My blackfire stirred.
“Nanmiess are not Unclean, Madame. We were not born of the Underrealm Flame. You mistake me for an Inferni. The disembodied soul of a Fallen. I came from a Hallowed, and have been given the right to remain in this realm as I am.”
Saundeiah paused, allowing me a moment to process what she said.
Granmanmi had always said all disembodied souls were the same. They’d come from the Fallen Angels through Noirfyre Rites, which allowed the Fallen to siphon their own souls and then turn them into undead beings that functioned under demonic control. Granmanmi said nothing about there being a difference between Nanmiess and Inferni though. Only thatanysoul spotted throughout Sorellien was born of the Hèls and ought to be treated as such.
I glared at the Nanmiess, unsure if I should take her word over that of Granmanmi.
Granted, how much of what Granmanmi had taught me was superstition dressed as truth? In my gut, I felt a strange calm. As if I ought to believe the creature. But logic wouldn’t allow it. I kept my blackfire swirling, still glancing towards the bedchamber doors.
“I give you my word, Madame. I mean you no harm. You’re safe here in Everthorn Manor. Our Roi’s Gargorètti wouldn’t have brought you here if you weren’t.” She tilted her head. “It may be unnerving at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
Get used to it.
Like I was going to be here long enough to get desensitized to the shock of free-roaming souls.
Like hèls I would.
“I’ve said this twice now. Out of my long-suffering, I will say it one last time.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m ready to take my leave.” A glance at the doors. “Have you seen a cinderwolf loose around this manor? I’ll need to fetch him before I go.”
Saundeiah looked at me through stunning, luminous eyes.
“I would advise against that, Madame.” She clasped her ephemeral hands. Her ghostly body flitted in and out of sight as she remained in place. “Like I said, it will not be possible. Especially since Roi Everthorn has already reinforced the Anshantmants around the manor to make sure you cannot leave.”
I jerked backwards. My blackfire sputtered and faded, retreating into my skin, as shock rocked through my body. My jaw hung. It was a long, awkward moment before I could find my tongue.
“He...” I blinked, utterly dumbfounded. “He what?“
“It’s for your safety, Madame.”
I shook with rage.
Safety.
I was going to give that king of theirs something safe to do, alright.
I’d had enough of this. Without another word, I snapped my wings open and shot past the Nanmiess and Raephim. I lunged for the doors and hurled myself across the threshold leading into the corridor. It was a quick dash through the interconnected chambers before I was plowing through the exterior doors.
For a moment, I halted in a grand hall. I gawked at the ornate onyx pillars, gilded rugs, finely painted tapestries, and draping onyx curtains that tumbled from the burnished cathedralceilings to the carpeted floors. I had to admit, it really was a pretty prison. Much of the decoration and furnishings reminded me of my home.
The home that the rotting Farasees had burned to the ground.
My lip curled back in a silent snarl. A yearning for Edenael twisted in my chest.
