Page 24

I can’t… “I can’t focus on a solution when every single fiber of my being, every thought is consumed by her. She’s fucking trapped!” My shadowy wings snap out involuntarily, almost fully corporeal—proof of my lack of control. Never have I been so distraught. Not when my father beat “lessons” into me. Not even when a Hel creature snuck through the crack between worlds.

Nothing tops the amount of pure, unadulterated fury trapped within my body until every atom is realigning.

Pointing toward her.

Damaris slams their hands into my chest and our eyes lock. “An innocent died today. Do you not care?”

“OF COURSE I CARE!” I roar, furious that somehow, now of all times, the curse that has plagued our lands decides to increase tenfold. The layer between Terraguard and Hel used to be a mythical, one that parents would tell children to keep their behavior in line. An old ancient curse only spoken about, passed along in slanted letters on scrolls until it became just another colorful tale.

Hel: a word used to curse someone, and for the past year, it’s become a fearsome reality plaguing my people. A crack in the earth’s crust so deep where the beasts from the fiery core have long been imprisoned.

And now, for some fucking reason, those cracks have widened. I know I should be helping, but Damaris and Cadex are more than capable of managing the front lines.

“They didn’t die from the Helbeasts, Atlys.” Damaris steps closer, lithe and formidable in their power. The General is one of the few that I let speak to me like this. I value their opinion, I remind myself. Damaris was chosen as General not just because of their battle prowess and loyalty, but for their ability to see beyond the here and now. Strategy is their strong suit. The bigger-picture wisdom to Cadex’s short-fused wrath.

I pause my destruction.

Cadex speaks this time, his voice gruff as if he has been yelling. “It was one of our planters near the outskirts of town. At first we didn’t think anything of it, but after a while, the male’s behavior was odd. His family came in to report it to us. Said he had been planting near the crevasse and came back… different.”

Damaris adds, “At first he was agitated, quick to temper, but then became more and more volatile.”

“We went to visit.” Cadex pinches the bridge of his nose, “and the wife had him tied up in a barn. He was rabid. Foaming from the mouth, eyes almost entirely black. The side of his neck was covered in tiny white dots.”

Damaris winces. “It was not like anything I’ve ever seen. They were straining against the rope like a rabid dog. We tried to ease his pain. Stayed there for another few hours until, eventually, he started to calm down. So much so that he went stiff.”

Cadex lowers himself onto the ground, picking up a small yellow flower. “He was gone minutes later.” He discards the flower, throwing it to the ground. “Something’s wrong, Atlys, and it’s more than the Helbeasts acting up. The people are worried that this infection will spread.”

I bend down to pick up the tiny yellow flower. “Have Trix analyze the corpse and report back with your findings.”

“But—” Cadex starts.

“That will be all,” I respond coolly, hating myself for my cruelty toward my second and third when I know the source of my anger has nothing to do with them. Our century-long friendship will outlast my piss poor neglect these past three weeks. I won’t ask for their forgiveness just yet, because I fear there is more I must do first. Damaris and Cadex skulk back into the darkness toward the direction of the capital city.

The tiny little flower mocks my dirt-stained hands with its delicate, shiny petals. I glower at it, placing it back into a patch of earth where the roots respond immediately to my touch. I take in the little beauty among the upturned soil and chaos I managed to sow.

Just one more day and the ancient magic of the Northern Continent New World Peace Treaty that has trapped me and my own in Terraguard—keeping us from rising to the surface during the day—will vanish. One more day and I will rip apart tectonic plates to find her, so fucking help me.

The ground shakes with my magic as boulders, trees, entire patches of earth rise from the ground, suspended in the air like clouds.

My shoulders strain as I hold my arms out, forcing the earth to bend to my will. A huge patch of grass latches onto a boulder. The roots of a tree fuse into a floating chunk of land. Piece by piece, the mountain reforms once more. Up, and up, and up. The land morphs taller from a mound, to hill, to mountain. In the distance, the flickering lights from the city watch as the familiar silhouette of the peaks returns anew. As it has done every single day for the past three weeks.

One.

More.

Day.

8

One Last Breath

Ican only assume it’s the morning of my wedding based on the fact that two Oksvakt guards charge into my cell. The metal keys clank obnoxiously against their axes, like menacing alarm bells.

I don’t move from my pile of hay in the corner. I finally was getting warm enough from my own body heat.

They haul me to a standing position and grumble instructions about “this way” and “follow me” and “you’ll need a bath” or something like that. I wasn’t really listening. I have a plan to recite. Like a Telling on repeat in my head the day before a performance, I repeat my plan. Over and over it swirls in my head until there's no room for mistakes. I’ve planned for every possible outcome. Thought of each scenario. Played it in my head in every key so that no matter what… today will be the day I escape. No matter the cost.

I’m hastily shoved into my old quarters, where Olga is waiting. Dark circles frame her eyes, a crease ever present between her eyebrows. Almost as if she is concerned for me.