Page 80 of Anathema

“Come with me.”

“How are you here?” I pushed to a sitting position, my mind hammering out the memories from the night before. The last detail I could recall was riding horseback toward a castle. An ominous castle. A man wearing a hooded cowl and leather mask.

“I crossed in the night. Come.” She waved, urging me up out of bed. “He intends to kill you, Sister.” She reached out her hand for me, and I glanced down, noticing the blood and gashes on her palm.

Something wasn’t right, though, and as my mind untangled itself from sleep, it became clearer what failed to make sense. Aleysia couldn’t have found me. The trek to the castle was long and rife with terrible creatures.

It was then the dread I’d feared moments ago rushed over me, settling deep into my bones. “I’m hallucinating you.” Tears welled in my eyes, blurring her form. “Oh, god, Aleysia. He … he … killed you.” Bottom lip quivering, I took her hand and, even through the numbing chill that wracked my own body, felt the icy-cold bite of her skin. “My poor sister.”

Her grip tightened over mine, and I glanced up to see her eyes flip from their usual bright blue to orbs of black onyx. She gave a hard yank, pulling me into her, and opened her mouth to show sharpened teeth.

I kicked back on a scream, and she exploded into white vapor. When the shock finally faded, a suffocating ache settled in my chest, a wretched misery that longed to drown me. Tears wavered in my eyes as I forced myself to absorb the meaning of her visit. A soul-shattering grief withered the air, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t draw in enough oxygen to banish the feeling of my lungs filling with a stifling anguish.

He killed her.

“Must’ve been quite a dream.” The unfamiliar voice came from the left of me, and I startled, my spine hitting the stone wall as I jerked back.

Gathering myself, I crawled on hands and knees toward the end of the bed and found a young woman with long, silvery hair sitting on the floor across from the cell, her back pressed against the wall. Youth glowed in her alabaster skin tone that shimmered with a silvery overtone, and eyes like the shallow blue of the Abyssius Sea. A long, burgundy, velvet dress pooled around her, the hem hiked up to her shins by her bent knees. In one hand she held a bright red apple, and a small paring knife in the other.

Blinking away tears, I studied her, trying to recall if I’d seen her at any point the night before. “Where am I? And who are you?” I couldn’t help but stare at the apple. In spite of my confusion and heartbreak, the hunger in my belly refused to be ignored.

“You speak Nyxterosi.” She carved a piece of the fruit and popped it into her mouth. “That’s interesting,” she said around a mouthful. “My name is Rykaia, and you’re at the luxurious Castle Eidolon, home of pain, suffering, and utter decay.”

“There was a man who brought me … with a mask.”

“Ah, yes, my brother. The feared Lord Rydainn—or tyrant beast, as I like to call him.”

Her brother. I lurched forward, kicking my feet over the edge of the bed. “Can you get me out of this cell? I don’t know why he brought me here, but I have to return to the woods.”

“You are mortal, then. Balls of Castero … I knew that smell was unusual. Quite delicious. Were I the cannibal type, I might be inclined to have a taste.” She waved the knife in front of her. “Fortunately for you, I’m not that type. To answer your question, no. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

My hope for escape withered, and I glanced around, noting a lock on the cage. “There isn’t a key to unlock the cell?”

“Well, yes.” She pointed, and I followed the path of her gaze to the stone wall, where a ring of keys hung from a nail. Completely out of reach.

“Won’t you hand it to me? I can let myself out.”

“I’m afraid not.” She carved another slice of the apple and popped it into her mouth. “See, I’ve been sentenced to remain at this tomb of rot, and unfortunately for you, I’m thoroughly intrigued by your presence,” she said, her words garbled in bits of apple. “Zevander doesn’t bring women back to the castle. Ever.” Brows raised, she sighed. “Besides that, the moment I put the key in that hole, my brother will be alerted, and seven hells will break. It’s a terrible circumstance, I know. I’ve been in that very cell before.”

“Your brother locked you in here?” Another sweep of the cell showed a box-like structure, like a standing closet, with a narrow door that had me questioning what might be inside. Granted, it was a bit fancier than most dungeons, definitely fancier than the one the guards had thrown me into, but it certainly wasn’t where I’d have my sister sleep.

Aleysia.

I forced the image of her face out of my head. No time for tears or mourning when my escape took priority.

“I told you he was a tyrant beast.” She crunched another bite of the apple, my stomach grumbling for a taste.

A chill spiraled through me, a slight mist expelling past my lips, and I wrapped my arms around my body, shivering. The lingering fright of my nightmare certainly didn’t help my trembling.

“Gets a little cold down here. Worse in the dead of winter. Like an icebox.”

“Who is Castero?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the pang in my stomach and the tremor in my bones. “You mentioned the name earlier.”

She snorted and bit off the end of the apple–the bit that most tended to toss away—and took half the core, too. Seeds, and all. “Oh! Just a saying. He was an ancient warrior who, according to historians, slayed ten drakes at once.” Pausing, she stared as if thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure if his balls were actually significant. I’d love to find a resource to confirm.”

A long gargly noise echoed from the left, sounding like a snarling animal. “What is that awful sound?”

“Dolion. My brother’s other prisoner. Snores like he’s trying to inhale a small child, doesn’t he?”

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