Page 21 of The Shadow of Polaris

“What the hell do you want?” I hissed, taking a step away from the immortal. Her eyes lowered, and she closed the distance between us again. Her words were flames against my cheeks as she spoke.

“You.” Her fingers wrapped around my throat and squeezed, cutting off my air supply. I clawed at her iron grip, gasping and wrenching for breath. She was too strong. Tears welled in my eyes as I continued struggling, the world vignetting around me. My skin burned as she squeezed tighter and tighter. The ground fell away and everything faded to black. I was dying.

Chapter 13

Gasping for air, I awoke beneath sweat drenched sheets. Dampness pooled on my brow and I scratched at my throat, trying to break free from those fierce, talon-like fingers. Throwing the covers from me, I rolled to the floor and took the musty air deeply into my lungs.

I laid there for a few minutes, not existing outside of my breath. Inhale, exhale. I wasn’t dying. I was alive. Fighting away the image of those burning hands, I closed my eyes. Just a dream. I was alive.

The sun hadn’t yet risen across the skyline and a tranquility hushed over the sleeping city. Hobbling to the window and pushing the pane open slightly, I embraced the chill of early morning against my skin. Had that really been Tethys I’d dreamt of? Dreams were visions of the future, forecasted across the mind. If that was true, then what could the goddess want with me? Placing my hand on my neck, I traced where her fingers had seared into my skin.

Something she said resonated within me. Your power has finally awoken. My power. Did she mean the shadows? The kernels of light that spread from my palms? They had felt so familiar, so natural- it had shaken me to my core. Maybe something within me had freed itself. Perhaps it was something that had always been there.

I needed to think. I needed to learn about my past, my history. Information kept from me as a child, knowledge hidden in shadow, anything that could pull these pieces together. The walls felt too tight, too cramped for these big thoughts. The air was too thick, too stifling. Leaving Arcturas, now curled in my residual heat, I crept down the hall to the bathing chamber, hoping a crisp splash of water across my face might clear my racing mind.

The reflection staring through me in the small, dirty mirror was unrecognizable. Beads of cold water rolled down my face as I inhaled deeply. My eyes no longer sunk into my cheekbones. My lips were no longer a dull grey. I hated to admit it, but freedom suited me. The shine of my obsidian hair had returned, and with it a delicate glimmer of content now danced along my flesh. The coldness of the water on my brow had soothed those burning thoughts, and I could think clearly.

Even if the dream had been truth, there were only two in this city, two in this realm that knew my secret. Both I trusted endlessly. For now, I was safe from Tethys. Drying the remaining beads from my face, I returned to my bedchambers to dress for the day.

Frya emerged from her chambers shortly after I began my work, fiercely sweeping, mopping, scrubbing- anything to keep my mind from reeling.

“Good morning,” she said behind me, clearing her throat.

Surprised to hear her voice, I jumped, nicking my thumb with my peeling knife. Red dripped from the gash and splattered on the bowl of turnips I had been peeling. I swiveled around on the rickety wooden storeroom stool to glare.

“You scared me,” I scowled, placing the wound in my mouth to keep from dripping blood.

“Aren’t you supposed to be aware of your surroundings, Huntress?” Frya snickered. She pulled a stool beside me and held out the rag from her apron.

“I was lost in my thoughts,” I said, wrapping it around my hand.

I plucked another turnip from its dirty burlap sack.

“I was thinking about my family line and I realized I know nothing of my ancestors. My grandparents had long since passed before either my sister or I were born. We descended from an ancient northern line, but that’s the most I know.”

The northern crown’s familial line was veiled in secrecy. Whether a strategic decision to separate the royalty from city folk or for some other reason, maybe it was time I learned of my past.

“The temple archives might have what you’re looking for. There’s information on practically anything down there. I’ve heard it’s left unguarded after dark. It’d be stupid to enter the temple chambers when Polaris is at her most powerful, but your sneaking skills seem… good enough.”

“That could be our best shot,” I said, looking at the barkeep. I considered telling her about my nightmare last night, but something in me thought it best to keep it to myself. If, in fact, it had been a vision, I couldn’t involve Frya. It was too dangerous. I tossed the now naked turnip into my large wooden bowl and reached for another. Frya eyed me impatiently.

“Well? Think you’re up for it?” she asked, rising from her stool. She shifted her weight from her cane and leaned on the doorframe.

“What did you mean my sneaking skills are good enough? Not only did I sneak out of exile, but I snuck past you during Festival! I’d say they’re better than good enough.”

Frya snorted, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “You should go tonight, once the city guards blow the lamp posts out. I’ll try to pull out a warmer cloak. It’s supposed to be well below freezing. I’ll check the spare closet.”

“Thank you, Frya. Truly,” I said, grabbing her leathery hand.

She smiled softly with a vacant expression flushed across her eyes. It wasn’t uncommon for thoughts to consume her. What was she thinking about now? Maybe she’d found herself in a memory from long ago. I knew what it felt like to be overwhelmed by the past. I hoped, for her heart’s sake, that she’d gone to a happier time. One filled with love and light, where the heartbreak of her lost child couldn’t reach her.

Turning back into the kitchen, Frya began her own daily chores. We didn’t speak for the rest of the day, both withdrawn into ourselves.

Just after the city bell chimed midnight, Arcturas and I departed for the temple. Creeping in shadow through the town square, we slipped up the mountainous steps, hidden from the guards finishing their watch at the temple’s entrance. We were silent observers lurking in the shadow of a large boulder. The two men completed their last turn of the perimeter, yawning and swinging their lanterns lazily.

With their descent down the summit steps, Arcturas and I padded softly to the entrance marked by grand wooden doors stretching up the full length of the exterior marble walls. Glancing back toward the sloped path, I hesitated.

Was this stupid? The hilt of the silver dagger Frya gifted me just before I left now burned in my palm beneath my cloak. I knew what had to be done if anyone saw me. Was I ready to face that darkness? I had to be. This was too important, too critical. Pulling the double doors open just enough to slip through, I faded into the shadows of the temple’s interior as if a terrible beast swallowed me whole.

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