Page 4 of Her Soul for a Crown
“Why forgo the only fun I have had in centuries?”
Reeri clenched the shadow bowl in his fist. It did not crumple.
The fault lies entirely with you.
“Present this offering to Wessamony,” Calu said, pulling Reerifrom his memories. “Who knows? Mayhap it is the one that will lead us to the relic, and you will stop looking as though you are going to bite someone’s shadow in half.”
“I do not appear that way,” Reeri scoffed.
“Of course, you do not. Everyone adores speaking with you. See the line behind me?”
Nothingness stretched beyond him.
“Your wit has not aged well.”
“At least mine has not withered on the vine.” Calu sighed. “He wants you. He is threatening Kama if you do not come.”
Shadows churned like the ocean. “Why did you not begin with that?” Reeri spun on his heel. His shadow heart pounded. Kama was supposed to be safe. Only the others were—
No.
He would not allow it to happen. Not again.
From the time the cosmos burst into existence, the Heavens lay split in two. On one side stood the pearl-encrusted gates of the First Heavens, barring all from ascending the gilt stairs to the Divinities’ realm. On the other side, the Second Heavens’ ivory structure loomed over a lake, its domes and turrets, towers and spires stretched as if they could pierce the steps and enter the others’ sphere.
The cosmos demanded balance. One realm contained purveyors of unconditional blessing, the other of contractual obligation. Both fulfilled a necessary role in human life. Curses and cures, mercy and misfortune—it all came from the Heavens. Only the vehicle for which it was given differed, for it was not balance if all favor came freely, nor if all aid came with a price.
Yet in the centuries since the Yakkas’ banishment from earth, the balance had tilted, turned, soured. The Divinities of the First Heavens had stayed the same, but Lord Wessamony had changed the function of the Yakkas of the Second. All due to Reeri.
“Brace yourself—he is short of temper today,” Calu said, pressing open the intricately embellished double doors to Lord Wessamony’s court.
The ivory floor—the only aspect of the past that had survived—was smooth as glass. Where gold statues once stood, depicting the great Lord in all his glory, broken stone now lay in heaps littered in dust and debris. Where frescos once adorned walls, now the blackest tar marred their faces. The main chamber, once vast and bright with heavenslight, was now made brighter with fire and brimstone. Empty of heavensong and void of heavenly communion, the acoustics made for—
“Reeri!” A voice thundered. It reverberated through the hall and rippled Reeri’s shadow.
A whimpering sounded along the south wall. He dared not spare a glance. He knew who was there, how they were strung up, and why.
Him. The answer, eternally, was him.
“You dare refuse my summons again,” Lord Wessamony said from upon his gilt throne, a blue hue blazing up his twisted horns. One hand squeezed tight around the Great Sword, gold and bright, glowing in its own glory. “I shall take from you the rest of your clan.”
Reeri paused at the base of the dais, a small step in front of where Calu stood alongside Sohon and Kama—the four of them the only unshackled Yakkas remaining after Reeri’s mistake.
“My apologies, Great Lord.” Reeri bent at what used to be a waist. His eyes flicked to Kama’s shadow hand curled tightly around Sohon’s. “I lost track of time searching for the perfect bargain.”
“Show me your findings.”
Reeri straightened. Wisps of his edges flickered. “I was unable to—”
“Show me!” Wessamony demanded.
Reeri lifted the phantom rice bowl, brought his lips close, and whispered, “Son of Earth, your prayer has been heard.”
Reeri felt the moment the offerer heard his words. It was akin to rain misting on one’s face. Sensed but not seen.
Thank you, gracious Blood Yakka.A faceless voice echoed in the great court.Thank you—
“It has been heard, not accepted. Yet,” Reeri said. “Offer up Fate’s Bone Blade, and you will have your request complete.”
