Ninety-Three
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Dianna. The Floating City of Jade.
“H ow deeply you must love someone that death itself fears taking
them?”
We stood in an enormous room, one wall carved out, revealing the sky of a world so far from my own. The two suns painted the sky in golds, oranges, and violets, a constant light show above. Broken pieces of an old moon ringed the planet, affecting its gravity. Gold and pink clouds encircled the floating city. Vines and flowers draped the walls and hung from the ceiling, the transition between outside and inside seamless.
“How are you feeling?” I asked him.
“Exceptional, thanks to you getting us here in time,” Roccurem said.
I shrugged. “You told me where to go. I just flew.”
I glanced at him. His form was no longer shredded and broken.
“Does fate actually answer to anyone?” I smirked and rested my head against the smooth doorway.
“We were destined to coexist with the gods and those that came before them. I long for those days once more.”
I didn’t respond, the weight of the last day finally settling on me.
“Resurrection has a cost. I assume you paid yours.”
I glanced at my bare, smooth finger, trying to forget what that mark had
felt and looked like.
“I guess.”
A low moan had me straightening and focusing on Samkiel. He lay unconscious on a floating bed a few feet from me. I hadn’t left him since we made it here. His chest rose and fell, but I still counted every breath and heartbeat.
I felt Roccurem’s eyes bore into me. “You saved him.”
I nodded, not taking my eyes off him, a part of me afraid that he would be taken from me again if I did. The beings, Roccurem called the Asclepius, worked on Samkiel as he rested. A peaceful and secretive race, they were powerful healers known across the cosmos. Their pink skin had a gold sheen that matched the sky. Their clothes were a variety of long dresses and tunics that brushed the floor, jewels draping their shoulders and wrists.
They moved around Samkiel. Some carried bundles of dried plants they had set on fire, the ends smoldered, emitting a thick gray cloud of smoke that smelled spicy and bitter. Others smeared a violent green paste on the large gash across his midsection, the only wound that hadn’t healed when our bond formed. Their queen had been less than happy when we’d arrived, and that my eyes burned crimson didn’t help the situation. But that was
another problem for another time.
“Why is the wound not fully healing?”
My eyes never left his chest as it rose and fell, afraid if I even blinked, it
would stop again.
“He was not meant to survive it.”
My lip curled in disgust. “I’m going to kill all of them.”
I watched, careful to stay very still as they worked. The last time I breathed too loudly, they screamed and cowered. Apparently, Ig’Morruthens in this realm were more feared than they were on Onuna.
“Nismera does not know he still lives. Since the realms are completely
open, no one will suspect.”
“Good. I want it kept that way.”
“The Asclepius will not speak of it.”
My head turned toward him, and I knew my eyes were blazing. “If they do, they die too, and I burn this city until it crashes to the ground.”
The room fell silent, every eye turning toward me. Roccurem smiled reassuringly back at them, and they nervously returned to work. “We must focus on getting The Hand back and stopping his psychotic family.” I tried to say it calmly so I didn’t disturb them as they palmed a multicolored liquid onto Samkiel’s side. He groaned, twitching from the cold. I stepped forward, a growl emitting from me before I realized he was not hurting.
They paused, all of them glancing toward me as if I would explode.
Roccurem sighed and turned toward them, their lyrical language rolling off his tongue. They nodded and relaxed, a few even smiling before
returning to their tasks.
“Nismera is not one to be underestimated or trifled with. She has a legion, and now with Samkiel’s death, they will see her as king of all twelve realms and every world in between,” Roccurem said.
“Not for long.”
“She has ties to the Otherworld, Dianna. Old, deep, powerful ties. The Otherworld is open now. That is where she will go first.”
I nodded, glancing at Samkiel again.
“The rage bubbling in your gut must not cloud your head with plans of running in blind.”
I started to pace. The Asclepius squeaked and scurried for the door.
Roccurem shook his head but stayed, watching me. “She is a goddess, my liege. A very old, very powerful, very angry goddess.”
“I fear no gods and no kings.”
“I know. Just please be careful. You are needed.” Roccurem stepped into the hall.
“Don’t tell him.” He paused and turned to look at me with all six of his eyes. “Let me be the one. Please.”
Roccurem nodded. “It is not my story to tell.”
“Goodnight, Reggie.”
A flicker of emotion passed across the fate’s face. I thought I knew him well enough now to say that hearing the nickname I had given him made him happy.
He nodded again and closed the double doors behind him. A hush fell over the lush room, not even the plants rustling in the wind. I carefully slipped onto the bed, curling up next to Samkiel. I rested my hand on his chest, unable to keep myself from checking my finger, our mark nowhere in sight. But the steady beat of his heart matched mine, and that was enough.
Samkiel’s body relaxed as if feeling me near comforted him even in sleep.
He reached out and pulled me close, tucking me against his body and resting his head on top of mine. I inhaled deeply and fit myself against him, the world fading away as I listened to his heart beat, just as I had so many
nights before.
Resurrection has a cost.
Dread filled my being, and I wondered as sleep claimed me if I had paid
with more than just the mark.
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