Page 73 of What Blooms from Death

Phantom drew closer, sniffing at the weapon Kaelen still held casually at his side, his hackles lifting.

I introduced the two of them as well. The sovereign of Erebos sheathed his weapon and tousled the fur between Phantom’s ears, placating him for the moment as he said, “You’ll find the rooms well-appointed, I trust. But if there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

His eyes lingered on me for several seconds, as if there was more he intended to say. But then he left with no more than a polite bow, drawing all but two of the servants with him. These two took up residence on either side of the shield-and-torch-bearing statue. Presumably waiting to retrieve anything else wemight have needed—though they felt less like maids and more like spies ready to report our every movement back to Kaelen.

I avoided eye contact with them as I stepped into the room I’d been granted.

Itwaswell-appointed. Stocked with all the basic comforts of home that I’d missed, albeit lacking any of the charm Orin’s place possessed. Plain in decor—but then again, I couldn’t think of why Kaelen would need charming guest quarters.

Oranyguestquarters, for that matter.

What had he meant bythe bits of life we’ve managed to hold on to?

And all the blue flames we’d passed on our way here, carried by all those strange beings who were more alive than the shades, yet clearly still ghosts…what exactly was the purpose of this city, and how did its citizens end up here, rather than outside of its walls?

The questions swirled in my head as I circled the room. But I was so thrilled to have a proper bath and clean linens that I eventually forgot most of those questions—if only for a little while. Long enough to properly wash up, to organize my things, and to take a short nap on the bed, even though its mattress was astoundingly lumpy.

That nap was soon interrupted, though, by a fresh barrage of anxious thoughts. Remembering the terrified expression I’d seen on the green-eyed girl’s face, I slipped my boots back on and went to check on her.

She wasn’t in her room.

With the help of Phantom’s nose, I managed to track her down; she’d made her way to the backyard of the manor—a rolling expanse of space covered in grey dirt and dead grass.

She’d finally found someone to participate in her game of tag, too: Zayn. The Lord of the North Reaches was looking ratherundignified with his shirt untucked and his cheeks red and flaming as he huffed and puffed for breath.

I took a seat on a stone bench at the yard’s edge, observing them through drooping eyelids, wishing I’d managed to get more sleep.

Within minutes, silent servants appeared and dropped trays of food and drink beside me. They bowed and left again without a word. I stared at the things they’d brought. Like the room I’d been granted, it all felt almost too normal—too good to be true.

Which made it feel dangerous.

Nevertheless, Phantom braced his paws against the bench and helped himself to the tray, sniffing each item upon it before taking some sort of thinly sliced cheese delicately between his teeth, tossing it into the air and catching it in his mouth.

“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?”

(It’s cheese,) he informed me. (It’s worth the risk of poisoning.)

“Debatable,” I said, my smile crooked.

He responded by wolfing down the rest of the stack.

I reached for a glass bottle of crystal-clear water myself, cautiously pouring it into a cup and taking a few small sips. When I didn’t immediately expire from the drink, I couldn’t help draining the rest of it in a few gulps. I was alarmingly thirsty, all of a sudden.

Not as thirsty as Zayn, though, judging by the way he was bent over with his hands on his knees, heaving for breath. The girl showed no mercy, despite his position; she launched herself onto his back. He tumbled to the ground—mostly for show, I assumed, given that she couldn’t have weighed more than fifty pounds. He pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat, waving it like a flag of surrender.

Biting back laughter, I called, “Come drink something before you pass out. Both of you.”

Zayn rolled over and pushed himself up, jogging toward me with a playful smile.

The girl started to follow, but stumbled to a stop when she caught sight of Phantom. Her green eyes went wide. Her hands clenched together, shaking, until—at my prompting—Phantom shifted into a puppy-like size and gave a happyyip.

Her eyes never leaving him, she took the drink I offered and gulped it down, missing her mouth with most of it. Then she was off again, giggling as Phantom gave chase.

While she continued to roll around in the dusty grass with the dog, Zayn collapsed at my feet and stretched out on his back with an exaggerated sigh.

“Children are exhausting,” he said, yawning and closing his eyes.

“So I’ve heard.” I mirrored his yawn. “Partly why I’m more of a dog person, myself.”

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