Page 75 of Anathema

“What is this place?”

At first, he didn’t answer, and I resigned myself to not knowing, because my guess was, the man couldn’t be swayed.

“Aethyria. The world beyond the Umbravale.”

“Umbravale?”

“The shiny barrier you passed through to get here.”

The shiny barrier that’d also kept me from returning to my sister. “Another world,” I said in disbelief. Complete disbelief. Surely, I’d hit my head too hard at some point. “One last question. Is it much farther? I’m only asking because … well, I’m not sure if Aethyrians relieve themselves, at all, but … that water only has one path to follow.”

He groaned, adjusting the saddle on the horse. “Not much farther.”

Another question bobbed at the tip of my tongue, begging to be asked. The same question that’d echoed over and over as he’d guided us through the bog, undoubtedly farther from the woods where I’d come through.

Where are you taking me?

I had every confidence the man would’ve probably thrown me off the horse if I’d asked aloud, though. And did it matter? I had no intentions of trudging through that bog again on my own.

Tingles of anxiety rushed over me, as he climbed onto the horse behind me, bringing to my awareness just how small I was compared to him, when his arms came around from behind, practically swallowing me as he took hold of the reins. With a light kick to the horse’s flank, he set the animal into motion again.

I tried to not think about how broad and solid his chest felt against my back, or that he smelled of leather and tobacco mixed with a hint of something delicious I couldn’t pinpoint. A scent that left me wondering when I’d last eaten.

The night seemed so long. Endless. My eyes burned with a longing for sleep, but I didn’t dare close them. In the silence, I thought about my sister, lying naked and crouched, bleeding. How she’d waited there for me. How she could’ve easily stepped through that archway without me. And what? Would she have been safer, if she’d been found by those guards? Would they have captured her? Taken her to that cell so the prisoners could have their way with her before throwing her into whatever the pit was?

And if she had, would I have ever learned what’d happened to her?

“You’re wrong about my sister,” I said quietly, fighting to hold back tears. “She’s alive.”

“Then, I’m wrong,” he said with little interest, sounding entirely unconvinced.

I ground my teeth in anger at his insouciance. “You’re horrible for saying she was, in the first place.”

“And you’re a fool for crossing over.”

“I had no choice. We were being chased by something in the woods. Something awful.” My thoughts wound back to the strange beast-like version of Moros, and although it hadn’t been the most terrifying creature I’d encountered tonight in its appearance, it was certainly one of the more sinister. “It tore the flesh off Uncle Riftyn …” I said mindlessly, lost to the memory.

“This creature in the woods. What did it look like?”

“My grandfather told me bedtime stories of a wrathavor. A beast half-man, half-stag. One that eats flesh voraciously. That’s what it looked like to me. Anyway, it chased us to the archway. It was the only way out.”

“It sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.”

“I’m tired, is what I am. I don’t know what your intentions are, but I could really just use some rest.” The guilt of having said that aloud crushed me, while not knowing if Aleysia was suffering at the hands of Moros and whatever had possessed him, or if he’d offered her a quick death and her body was lying on the cold ground. Having to imagine either, alongside my own survival, felt so heavy. Overwhelming. I had no idea what this Zevander had in mind for me. If he planned to do worse than the men who’d trapped me earlier. An edge of tension vibrated through me, while the pull to close my eyes and slip away from it all had me silently chiding myself to stay awake.

Until he said, “There, your wish has been granted.”

Ahead of us stood a narrow path that wound up through the mountainside to a dark castle ahead, and while the sight of it, ominous and neglected, should’ve frightened me, it felt oddly safe. The kind of castle that scared even monsters away. Formidable enough to offer protection so I could close my eyes.

As the horse cantered up the path, I could make out flickering torches around the outside of it, illuminating its stony black and moss-covered walls.

“Ith’tu somninis profundiet,” Zevander’s deep voice whispered in my ear.

The scene before me narrowed to a pinprick.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ZEVANDER

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