Page 96 of What Blooms from Death

The black-haired man who’d caught my attention earlier strode into my peripheral vision, studying the scene as well. His calm voice filled the air a moment later, somehow perfectly clear even over the astonished chatter building around us.

“Secure her before she does irreversible damage to herself,” he said. “And let’s get away from here before we draw more attention.”

It took a moment for his words to register. For my eyes to focus enough to realize what was happening—to see the people moving toward Nova, preparing to grab her. Without another thought, I was drawing my sword, ready to cut them down as swiftly as I’d cut down the wraiths minutes ago.

But just as she had at the city gates, Thalia seemed to materialize from nowhere just in time to step into my path and cut me off.

“Let them be,” she urged. “They won’t hurt her. Watch and see.”

I was inclined, once again, to not believe her. Not until she pointed, drawing my attention to what was now happening around the rest of the crowd.

All of the fighting had ceased. The revitalized wraiths and the soldiers, alike…all of them had gone perfectly still, and they were all watching Nova as two men helped her to her feet and held her upright.

She drew her shoulders back, her eyes straining, fighting for awareness. Fighting to take in the face of every person now looking in her direction.

And as she stared at them, they all bowed before her.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nova

I woketo the sound of birdsong outside my window and warm sunlight washing over my face. The scent of honey and woodsmoke tickled my nose. My body was cocooned in soft blankets, and my clothing was equally soft, a flowing tunic and trousers that were pure luxury against my skin—and they feltclean.

No more blood.

My eyes remained tightly shut. Because for a moment, I wanted to believe I was home. This warmth, this cleanliness…it was all real. Orin was just downstairs, preparing me a cup of tea. I had never truly left the safety of our home. The nightmare wasn’t real—it never had been.

And now, it was over.

I could wake up.

I could gohome.

Minutes passed in this fantasy before I forced myself to open my eyes and stare at an unfamiliar ceiling. Tears streaked silently down my face as I tried to collect myself, to gather the courage to face whatever awaited me next.

Slowly, I sat up, my muscles protesting every inch of movement, aching as though I’d spent an entire winter in hibernation.

After several blinks to shed the last of my tears—and to further adjust to the unexpected brightness—I noticed that Aleksander was asleep on the other side of the room, stretched out on a cushioned bench in front of a large window that was covered by heavy curtains. It didn’t look nearly as comfortable as the bed I was resting upon, but he had blankets and pillows piled around him to help make up the difference; so wherever we had ended up after this latest misadventure of ours, at least it was cozy.

I rose shakily to my feet, trying to grasp at more scraps of my shredded optimism. The space was more than cozy; it was beautiful. Teeming with so much light and energy that, even now that I was fully awake, I could still pretend I was back home—or somewhere in the living world, at least.

My gaze drifted back to Aleksander.

Was it our combined magic that had created this place?

With my eyes on him, I didn’t see the shaggy throw rug until it was too late; I stumbled over it, sucking in a sharp breath as pain radiated from my jostled, injured shoulder.

“Still smarts, huh?”

I twisted toward the gentle, unfamiliar voice—wincing as the movement causedmorepain—and I found a squat little woman watching me from the doorway. Her hair looked brittle and white with age, but her face didn’t appear much older than mine. Her dark blue eyes were kind—another unexpected sight after days of darkness and desperate battles for survival.

Whatwasthis place?

Was I even still in the Underworld?

“We have things that will help with the pain,” the woman said, stepping inside, “but I wanted you conscious before Iadministered any of it.” She looked me over from head to toe, as though trying to decide if I trulywasconscious.

I wasn’t entirely sure myself; this room was so bright and warm that I still felt like I was in a strange fever dream.

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