Page 2 of Between Soul and Vessel
It was beautiful.
If I had breath to take, I imagined it would have been stolen.
Nemtuk carried me in his unusually long, lithe arms, his wings stretched out behind him. They were a shade darker than his charcoal skin, almost black but not quite. My gaze drifted to the end of his left wing. There, the air worked away at one loose feather, as if it were chiseling it out, desperate to take it. I had been watching it for the duration of our flight, a time I had no means of measuring.
Did time even exist here? Or was that back . . .
Back where?
My thoughts stumbled, tripped, and fell, straight down a black hole of nothingness. There was a lapse, something I was missing or forgetting. But when I tried to reach for it, it was fleeting.
I returned my attention to the feather, watching it tick back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. I wondered when it would give up its fight and just let go.
Nemtuk cleared his throat. “Imari.”
“Hmm?” she answered, her face fixed ahead.
“I must admit . . .” There was a small bit of hesitancy, as if he didn’t want to reveal the next part. Slowly, he continued, “The closer we get to the Celestial Opal Palace, the more anxious I become.”
“I can understand why. If I was your gender, I would probably feel the same way.” She let out a breath through her narrow nostrils—more slits than circles. “But you must remember, Empress Avena’s laws do not extend to our kind. We are her most prized creation. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I suppose you are right,” Nemtuk agreed, albeit his teeth weathering against his bottom lip spoke otherwise. Charcoal skin crinkled between his hairless brows as he stole a quick glance at me. When our eyes met, he swiftly looked away.
Attention returning to the wiggling feather, I noticed the stubborn current had made some progress, as I could now see a bit of the quill. At any moment, the wind would have its way and finally pluck the silky, shiny plume free—stealing it away like a thief in the night.
When it finally did, I expected to feel some satisfaction at seeing the lone feather fly into the air, something I had been heavily invested in, but as I watched it fade into the distance, there wasn’t a sliver of feeling to be found.
Von
Find her.
With every strike of my phantom heart, that message rang out. Again, and again. A steady, constant thrum pushing adrenaline into my bloodless veins. Pushing me into madness as I grappled with reality. I had lost her. My mate. My Sage.
But Iwouldget her back.
It was a vow I had roared for all to hear, to the heavens, to the Creator above. I didn’t care what it would take. Rivers of blood, piles of bones, souls upon souls—whatever the cost, I would pay it for her, without hesitation.
I knew she might hate me for what I was willing to do in her name, but that’s why she had always been the hero, and I the villain.
With my shadows clawing at the air behind me, I stormed into a cell at the very back of my dungeon, in the underbelly of my obsidian castle. The air was thick, riddledwith the stench of rot, shit, and piss.
In the dim blue firelight provided by the braziers placed outside the cells, my eyes locked on the redheaded ass-licker. Before he could loosen his brown-tipped tongue, the iron of my fist smashed into his jaw, sending him careening to the floor.
I barely recognized my own voice, more demented creature than immortal, as I demanded, “Whereis Soren?”
“Aggressive,” Folkoln said as he strolled around me, watching Arkyn as he rolled onto his side, choking and sputtering. “But tell me, brother, if you snap his jaw off, how will he tell you the information you seek?”
Ignoring him, I grabbed hold of Arkyn’s collar and lifted him from the cell floor. I shoved him against the wall, teeth gnashing as I reiterated, “Whereishe?”
“I told you before, he’s probably at the castle,” he sputtered, his hands grabbing hold of my wrists, squirming like a maggot covered in its own filth as he tried to fight my unbreakable hold.
“He’s not.” I squeezed my fist, cinching the cloth tighter, allowing him a fraction of the air he needed to properly breathe. I could have easily snatched the air from his lungs without lifting a finger, but right now, more than ever, I needed to use my hands. I needed to feel the crux of pain as I split my knuckles open, needed to feel every bit of it so I could stay grounded in my cause.
A flutter of wings sounded, followed by light footsteps.
“I found him, my king,” Fallon’s voice came from the cell door.
My eyes remained on Arkyn. “Where?”
