Page 29 of What Blooms from Death

We had reinforced it over time, but we were not the ones who had originally built its walls of dark, weathered stone, or laid the interwoven pattern of bone-colored logs that made up its roof. The vines of black ivy crisscrossing its face had started to grow soon after our arrival, however, and they shimmered and crawled as I approached them now, newly stirred by my presence—or my magic’s presence, rather.

Like so much of this realm, this house seemed to be an echo of a structure in the world above. Our theory was thatthe more sentient souls who arrived here—the ones unable to fully pass on into deeper parts of these afterlands, for whatever reason—were responsible for building these kinds of things; we’d even glimpsed them working on other projects, sometimes, drifting through the motions, surrounded by billowing curtains of ghostly white energy.

It was perhaps the most haunting thing about this place—the way some of the dead carried on as though they were still alive. It had caused me to question my own existence, more than once; with the line between the living and the dead so blurred, could I really be certain thatIhad survived the descent into this hell?

Maybe it was an eternal punishment of the damned, to believe you were still alive and somehow able to claw your way back to life.

The wooden door creaked as we pushed our way into the house. Little had changed inside; it still smelled of damp soil and woodsmoke. The walls were still cold and close, making it feel more like a cave than a home.

Zayn knelt before the large fireplace in the central room. His magic was not as powerful as my own, but he channeled it with a smooth, confident precision, and in no time at all, he’d used a stream of concentrated light to ignite a pile of leaves and twigs in the center of the hearth.

Others of our company continued the job as they came inside, some building up the fire through non-magical means, while others took the torches from the wall, lit them, and proceeded to ignite the lanterns spaced along the rooms and hallways.

As light and warmth spread throughout the abode, Zayn led Nova on a tour of it, explaining more about how we’d taken shelter here and survived over the years; how my magic allowed for some things to grow, even in this climate, and how this wasour main source of sustenance—that, and a once-clouded and rot-filled stream I’d managed to purify with more magic.

While they talked, I walked onward into the backyard, to where a garden of withered blooms awaited. Like the ivy we’d seen on our way into the house, this garden reacted to my approach, the flowers in it shivering with awareness, some of them blooming and brightening to deep, lush shades of purple and blue. The trees along the edges of the stacked-stone fence we’d built were withered nearly beyond recognition, their fruits nothing more than shriveled husks; they didn’t show any signs of life, even when I purposely tried to magic some essence of it back into them.

Three of my guards followed me outside: Elias, Rowen, and Farren. They had changed more than the house had in the last year; their features were terribly gaunt, their bodies skeletal—more like the dead beings outside our safe haven than the proud men and women who had followed me into the disaster at Rose Point.

How much longer could we withstand this realm and its noxious airs?

We sat for a while, catching up on the things I’d missed and the memories I was attempting to sort through; it was getting difficult to keep timelines clear, as much as I’d slipped in and out of my cursed, slumbering state.

As we talked, I tried to subtly infuse the air with warm magic, even though I was still feeling weak and off-balance myself. My power brightened their skin and their eyes, making them at leastappearslightly more alive.

Alive.

I had to keep reminding myself that we were alive. We did not belong in this darkness. And one way or another, I was going to find a way to claw us back to the light.

Zayn rejoined me perhaps twenty minutes later, dismissing the guards and assessing me as he approached. “You’re still conscious.”

“Wide awake,” I assured him.

“A good sign.” He glanced back toward the house. “She still claims all she did was touch you. She certainly didn’t intend to wake you up.” A corner of his mouth quirked. “And I’m pretty sure she’d prefer it if you went back to sleep.”

I ignored the jab. “Did you get anything more useful out of her?”

“She’s not eager to run away from us, at least. We’ve intrigued her. And, from what I gathered, she’s already encountered some of the nasty spirits of this world…she doesn’t want to face any more of those alone, even if she won’t outright admit it. Fear is a powerful motivator, and it’s reason enough for her to want to stay close to other living beings.” He crossed his arms, his head tilting back in thought. “There’s more she’s not telling us, though. About her magic and her mission, and about the living world.”

“Of course there’s more. Did you expect her to immediately, willingly share her entire life story and all her hopes and dreams with you?”

“It wouldn’t have been the first time I had a woman spilling all her secrets within an hour of meeting me.”

“Maybe not—but copious amounts of wine were usually involved in your persuasions back home, as I recall. Something this realm is sorely lacking.”

He arched a brow. “It wasn’t the wine that loosened up their inhibitions, Cousin.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“Though, I wouldn’t say no to copious amounts of wine,” he added with a grin, “if you think we could procure some, somehow.”

I massaged my throbbing temples, sighing. “I could use something much stronger than wine.”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement.

After a minute, he said, “At the very least, don’t drive her away. Not yet. She was able to enter this world and navigate her way to us by using her magic—a useful talent. So think of the larger picture, please.” He finally dropped his usual cheerful act, fixing me with a hard look. “Some of us have been awake in this infernal region for longer than you have, and we’re getting tired of it.”

With that, he disappeared back into the house without a backward glance.

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