Page 19 of A Spell of Bones and Madness
Ander blinked his eyes and the blood was gone. He lay on the damp stone floor of the dungeon, gasping for breath as he knelt before the king. Sweat clung to every inch of his body and vomit lay by his knees. His eyes were so heavy he could barely keep them open, but that was indeed the king standing before him.
The curvature of Katrin’s face and lips, the furrow of her brows, the lilting voice that seemed happy to see him in pain. It felt so real. But it always did. And lately the fine line between reality and magic blurred even further.
The churning of his stomach started once more. A swirl of not enough food or water mixed with bile and blood. Vomit rose in his throat, burning the inside until it spilled from his mouth. An unfortunate side effect of the mind compulsion.
Normally he could block it out. Was actually very adept at shielding against others, given who his father was, but the golden shackles made him weak, stripped him of any semblance of control. There was barely any of Ander left. A broken rag doll. A play thing for the kings. That was all he was anymore.
“We really should have someone come clean this cell.” Edmund crept around the excrements that lay scattered about. It had gotten worse the last few days since he began playing with compulsion once more. Before there was blood, and some dead mice, and the smell of burnt flesh, but now all that lined Ander’s nose was death and bile. He barely slept anymore for fear that his dreams were nothis own. There was no peace to be found in this chamber. There was no peace left for him in this world.
He was dying, whether it took another day or a week. His people wouldn’t make it back to rescue him. Even if they could, he wouldn’t want them to. Katrin, Thalia, Leighton—even the tiny whitedaimon—he wanted as far away from Edmund and Khalid and Alentus as possible. Tucked away somewhere safe, behind the veil of Skiatha. If the veil even still held. If it had not been broken once more. It had taken time to come to terms with the fact that he was ok with dying if it meant they all lived. There was only one thing he regretted not doing before he met Aidon at Aidesian’s gates. Perhaps the God of Death would grant him one wish, one moment to return to the ruler’s daughter, to tell her that he loved her more than life itself.
A spindly, wrinkled finger grazed under Ander’s chin, lifting it so his gaze would meet Edmund’s. “Are you thinking about Katrin, boy?”
Ander’s eyes flared silver for a moment and he spit in the king’s face. The fluid leaving his mouth a disturbing mix of substances. “You have no right to speak her name.”
Edmund rose, wiping the spit from his face with his sleeve. “Don’t you worry,” the king chuckled, “eventually I will make you forget.”
Ander bared his teeth and held Edmund’s stare with wide eyes. “I will never forget her.”
He would not. Could not. Her beautiful soul was the only reason he pushed through this at all. The only thing he had left to live for.
Chapter Thirteen
Ember
Black stone tumbled down the sides of the cave, causing a shrill echo to reverberate along the slick walls of the tunnel leading into Aidesian. Rotted flesh and soot and ash filled the air. The prince recoiled as the smell hit their noses. Ember couldn’t blame him. It was awful here, and they weren’t any closer to their destination. For hours they wandered down the same path, no additional light or guide to where in Aidesian they were.
“Gods dammit!” Dimitris cursed from a few steps ahead, as he tripped on yet another thorn-laced vine.
“What happened to walking in silence?” Thalia hissed. “Do you know what kind ofdaimonslinger in these halls?”
The seer appeared to be at her wit’s end with Dimitris. The supposedly stealth wolf had been nothing but a thorn in their side since they arrived on the beaches of Avernia. How much noise could one person even make while simply walking?
“Well, maybe I could if there weren’t so many of these vines blocking our path.” His curved sword slashed away at the black vines that laced their way along the ground, up the walls, and hung from the ceilings. Thick red thorns peppered each one, making it all but impossible to venture further into the cave without carefully angling one's body—or hacking them all to bits.
“If you stopped acting like a brute and cut a delicate path it would be easier.” Thalia took her blade and sliced through each one near her with a perfect cut, no mangled edges or incessant scratches from the thorns.
Ember snorted. When Dimitris had offered to sniff things out, she let the wolf and the seer go a few paces up, while she and Ajax tried to follow behind. It was a mess of darkness ahead, and would take longer than she had thought to make it to the Stygian River. Her sight was good, but not nearly as good as the lupine prince and the seer. Surprisingly, Ajax didn’t have much trouble navigating and Ember wished she had her sister’s starlight right about now, or a torch, or anything really that would help her see more than three steps in front of her.
Her father really made it difficult for those who walked the earth to get even close to the gates of Aidesian. She understood why the beginning was so treacherous. Thedaimonsthat lived within these hallowed halls were more wicked than one could dream up even in the most tormented of nightmares. Death incarnate. Kinds that would tower over you and rasp their heated breath before theyemerged from the shadows, ready to rip you limb from limb with claws as long as a forearm.
Bone-chilling air circled them, nodaimonsin sight except Mykonos. Even with the cold wind, every breath Ember inhaled felt like fire. They had been traveling the winding path to the river for too long, but crunching boots against roots and the scraping of hidden beings against walls were the only sounds that filled the tunnel. The rushing of the deadly water had not met them yet. At least, Ember thought the river would sound like the ones that led to the Triad Mountains at home. It was not that way at all, she realized too late.
“What is that noise?” Dimitris toppled over clutching his ears, Thalia doing the same. Their screams echoed in Ember’s ears.
“I don’t hear anything!” Ember called ahead.
A sweaty hand grasped for her own with a grip so tight Ember thought her bones might break. Ajax fell to his knees at her side as his eyes flared a lighter shade of brown—almost golden. His chest flared up and down as if no air entered his lungs. What was happening to them all?
Shadows began to circle in front of them. Not the way Nikolaos’s had caressed around them and deposited them at the beaches of Avernia. These lingered in the air, trickling side to side until they formed the outline of a cloaked man.
“Those who are not at death’s door nor born of the gods shouldn’t dare to enter any further,” a shrill voice entered Ember’s mind. The way the others shifted around, eyes widened, she guessed they heard it too.
“We understand the rules of the underworld, but it is a pressing matter that I speak to my father.” Ember stepped closer to the shadowy figure—illusion—whatever it may be.
The cloaked man had no face, at least not one Ember could distinguish behind the shadowed hood. Its voice sounded more akin to a snake hissing than an actual male and a tiny voice in Ember’s head yelled at her to turn and run.
“Curious, the youngest daughter of the underworld decides to journey here. It is not safe for you, Ember Drakos, nor your wolfish friend.”
