Page 111 of Aïdes the Unseen
This was it.
The first one.
I looked back at Graven.
And Ismiled.
Chapter
Twenty-One
GRAVEN
She didn’t hesitate. That surprised me more than the door appearing, more than the ancient resonance it carried, and even more than the way the labyrinth held its breath. Even the stones seemed to understand a shift had taken place.
Irina reached for the door handle, then opened the door. She didn’t release me, however. In fact, her hand tightened around mine. Her grip firmed not with fear but more with defiance. She held on as if letting go now would mean somethingfinal. As if, by sheer will alone, she could anchor me to her side.
I had no doubts about her success. Because I wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not after hearing her confession about why she’d chosen me. Not after she chose me again. In this life and every other, I would always choose her.
The door creaked open. Warm air spilled out, ripe with petrichor and citrus, and something older than memory. When she stepped forward, I followed.
The dog, gangly with ears too big for his head, possessing a heart vast and unwavering, trotted in after us. His tail was high and his eyes were bright facets of jewels in the shadows.I couldn’t help but see him as he was: a creature born of both innocence and myth, just as she was.
The room on the other side was not a room at all. The door opened to sunlight. Blinding at first, golden and full. The scent of dust and parchment with elements of sweet grass hit me like a memory I’d never owned.
I blinked the dazzle from my eyes. Summoned by a thought, a pair of sunglasses appeared in my free hand. Once I slid them on, I could focus. I was also ready to summon more if she needed them.
We were standing in a field.
Wheat? Barley maybe. Tall and gold and swaying to a rhythm that didn’t match the wind. The sky was low, heavy with the color of the harvest. I could almost taste the smoke of the previous night’s bonfires lingering.
No walls contained us. No corridors to give us a sense of direction. No sound save for the rustle of the grain and the soft creak of something in the distance. Not a door—I didn’t think. Maybe a swing?
Irina still hadn’t let go of my hand. She stood still, hair lifting in the breeze that teased at the sheer robe. Lips parted, she gazed around us. I didn’t speak, because I could feel it.Thiswas her place. Or one of them.
The first door? A fragment?
Though I hadn’t known herthen,I had the marrow-deep conviction that I was trespassing. This memory was not meant for me.
When she held my hand even tighter, I decided I would rather break off my own limb than pull away from her. If she wanted me here, then here I would remain.
I watched her, watched and waited. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—lead here. This was hers. I would follow, into memory, into fire, intoher.
As she took one hesitant step forward followed by another, I moved with her. She tested the land and the place or maybe it was the memory itself. I was here as a companion, a witness—a guardian. No one would intrude on this moment or interrupt it. Unwilling to break the thread of whatever had begun to unravel in her eyes, I maintained my vigilance.
The grain whispered around our legs, golden stalks brushing against her bare calves as the robe parted with the breeze. The lack of a path did nothing to diminish the welcome for her. It bowed slightly where she stepped as if the grain knew her. Name or not, she wasknownhere.
I glanced sideways. Her lips moved. No words. Just the shape of them. The attempt of translating sensation to language. The dog trotted ahead of us, his lean form outlined in the golden light, ears pricked toward the horizon. He moved without hesitation, a scout with purpose. He wasn’t searching at all, he was leading.
Of course, he likely knew where she needed to go.
“I know this place,” she said suddenly and I turned to her.
Her voice was low, not a whisper, not quite. More like awe wrapped in confusion.
“I don’t… mean I shouldn’t. I’ve never stood here before. Not like this. Obviously not inthislife. But—” She inhaled sharply. “I know the way the sun smells. I know that tree.”
Tree?
