Page 15 of What Blooms from Death

It used to be much more than a romantic story; people had traveled to Eldris from all reaches of the empire to pay homage to its first queen in hopes that her spirit would grant them passage to visit their lost loved ones.

It had been well over a century since the last known visit. Such travel was now forbidden—even talking of it was considered taboo, and a punishable offense in some places.

But that didn’t mean it was impossible.

The barrier between the worlds was not impenetrable. There were plenty of hauntings and odd phenomenon serving as proof of this—not to mention the fact that the Sword of Light had been swallowed by the ground, and the energy radiating from the wound was clearly from the Underworld.

And, most importantly, there were spells that could still open Nocturnus, that long-abandoned road between the living and dead worlds. It had taken Orin a lot of time and research to find one with true potential to work, but he’d managed it.

Of course, no one ever returned from such descents these days. Even with the proper preparation, to walk this road was the equivalent of signing off on your own death. But I was prepared to die if that was what it took to make things right—so long as I took care of the sword and its distorting power, first.

If I couldn’t make it back, my only regret would be that I wouldn’tpersonallybe able to deliver justice to Aleksander. But Orin and I had an agreement, in the event that I didn’t return. I’d written a series of letters for him to deliver to the queen. So when the wound was healed—and the curse over her and the others ended—she would know what to do next.

I pictured her frozen body. The sword in her hand. The fearless, stoic pose she’d held for seven years.

When she woke, my mother would see vengeance carried out, I was certain.

And the King of Light would pay for all he had done, one way or another.

Chapter Four

After leaving Rose Point,I ended up wandering through the surrounding wilderness for several hours, still unable to stomach the idea of trying to sleep.

Orin was waiting on the front porch when I finally returned. His eyes darted between the trees as I approached, narrowing at every odd sound as if expecting to see some dangerous fiend following me.

He didn’t ask where I’d been.

I suspected he already knew, given how sensitive he was to the various magical energies of the world; I likely reeked of the magic bleeding from that wound the Light King’s sword had left behind.

It was an energy specific to Rose Point—although, in recent months, weaker shades of this rottenness had started to spread beyond the borders of my old home, despite Aleksander’s magical barrier. Truthfully, it felt like the rot was stretching farther outward with each visit…which was partly why my step was more hurried than ever, my tiredness forgotten as I met Orin’s gaze, hoping for good news.

He offered that news immediately, holding up a small drawstring bag. “Your ticket to death, my lady.”

I mirrored the grim smile he gave me as I took the bag and carefully pulled it open, dumping its contents into my palm.

A bracelet fell out. One far, far heavier than any of my others, yet still delicate in its appearance, with leather segments braided like twisting vines and holding pale amethysts between them. The two largest jewels were evenly spaced, so that when I slipped the piece on, one sat on top of my wrist while the other pressed underneath. One radiated warmth. The other pulsed with occasional bursts of cold. It made me think of the world above and below, with my racing pulse caught in between.

I stepped off the porch and into the daylight, holding the bracelet up to better inspect it. The sun’s rays pierced through the pale purple jewels, revealing a swirling cortex of different energies within them. In one of the larger crystals, I thought I caught a glimpse of blooming red—the essence of the crimsonlith flowers, maybe? There one instant, gone the next.

The same unnerving sensation that had overtaken me in Lord Roderic’s manor tried to sink its claws into me again, but I quickly shook it off.

“Stunning, as always,” I told Orin.

He waved the words away, the way he always did when he was pleased with himself but didn’t want to admit it. “More importantly,” he said, “it’s infused with all the substances necessary to guide its wearer into the Underworld. Though I caution: It will work differently than anything I’ve made for you before.”

“How so?”

“Well, all your other accessories channel your own innate power. The crystals on this bracelet, however, were forged and spelled so they would draw in magic fromoutsideof you—but only a specific type of magic, of course.”

“The type flooding the road that once connected the living and dead worlds, I presume.”

“Exactly.” He beamed, as though this was just another routine lesson—one I was actually paying attention to, for once. “Now, according to all the research I’ve done, there is a lot more chaos on that route than there used to be. But this bracelet should help you navigate through it, drawing you to the right energies that will lead you fully to the other side.”

“…How much chaos should I be expecting on this road, just out of curiosity?”

He propped a hand under his chin, considering for a moment. “You may have to dissolve some of it with your own power—absorb the excess to help you see things more clearly. Your siphoning bracelet should serve you well, regarding that.”

I reached for that bracelet, absently squeezing the red beads making up the bulk of it. Soundlessly, I counted them, feeling my way toward the triangular golden charm hanging from the center.

---