Page 35 of The Cruel Dawn
Time…time…
Every time I come close to understanding my surroundings and what’s happening to me, that knowledge skitters away.
I take a deeper and longer breath, and the air snakes through my nose and fills my lungs, and energy pulses through my veins. A strange numbness climbs from my feet up to my legs.
Clear-headed at last, I sit up, and the hallway swings precariously. I close my eyes and wait for the world to settle.
I need to stand—but there is nothing that I can use to lift myself up.
Shit.
I grit my teeth and roll onto my knees. “Ow!” I shout. I want to vomit, but that will only make this slick floor slicker.
Time…time…
I force myself to my feet—one foot burns and the other foot bleeds.
I take one weak step and then another. Despite its polished shine, the floor isn’t slippery beneath my boots. The single window behind me lights this corridor—there are no torches or lanterns, sconces or candelabras hanging from the ceiling. Out that narrow window, white, puffy clouds hang in a sky that shifts from light to dark, and then gold, red and blue, black and white, and then light, dark, and each color again.
This place… I know this sky and those clouds and this floor and this air, and I didn’t know what perfection felt like until no longer feeling it outside of these walls.
This is the Abbey of Mount Devour.
I want to admire my surroundings. I want to celebrate having made it to this haven,finally. But nothing gets done by standing in place. I have work to do—starting with finding Agon the Kindness. Finding my family,finally.
Lightheaded, I count my steps as I stumble down the long hallway. At four hundred fifty paces, I’m still stumbling. I look behind me—fuck all.Like a snail and its slime, I’ve left behind a trail of blood. My face burns with embarrassment. I have to come back and clean this up, hopefully before anyone sees this mess. The abbey is too sacred a place, and it deserves respect and order. Also, no one should have to clean up after me, a grown woman. More than that: neither my mother nor Sybel Fynal raised me to be okay with just…leaving bloodeverywhere. I’m many things—selfish and shortsighted—but I’m not filthy.
Up ahead, I spot a set of dark double doors made of wood stronger than Vallendor’s strongest oaks and ironwoods. Protective wards have been carved into the wood—diamonds, bears, wolves, paddles, and knots—to keep out those who don’t belong.
With bloody hands, I reach for the two knotted metal doorknobs.
The tall, dark doors open before I even touch the knobs.
I belong here.
A woman with copper skin and bronze hair pulled into a bun stands on the other side of the double doors with her hands folded before her. She’s tall and radiant with silver light. She bows her head and says, “Kaivara Megidrail, Grand Defender, Lady of the Verdant Realm, Blood of All.” Her voice sounds like the low call of whales, so lovely and round.
Blood of All.I’ve always loved that title.
She sounds and looks so calm.
Does sheseeme? Does she see the mess that I’ve made?
“For what purpose are you here?” the woman asks.
“To see my uncle, Agon the Kindness,” I say, my voice now rich and smoky with confidence.
The woman narrows her stormy-gray eyes and offers a stiff bob of the head. “I will take you to him. Please follow me.” She turns away and starts to walk.
I take a step and grimace. “Could you slow down? I’m…” I sweep my hand over the mess of me. “Hurt.”
Understatement of the ages.
She nods, and once I catch up to her, she continues on, walking slower now.
“You know who I am,” I say, limping, resisting the urge to look back at my bloody footprints. “Please tell me who you are.”
“Nimith Findaye,” she says without turning around. “My clan of Eserime left the first realm of Linione aeons ago, and we’ve served as stewards of the abbeys across the Aetherium ever since.”
