Deathless (Editing)

Chapter 9: What Dreams May Come

I do not know how much time had passed for, when I woke, I had been transported somewhere else. The small unsteady boat was gone. In its place was a wooden room, a wooden bed, and two wooden doors.

I turned my head on the stiff pillow. The rusty springs of the bed groaned at the smallest movements. And, like that, my cover was broken.

The Lord High Commander was seated in the corner nearest the bed, reading from a different book. The book he held then had a bright red binding. It looked new, not tattering like the last one.

Upon hearing the metallic hiss of the springs, he stirred, finding me in that dimly lit, swaying room.

I wanted to vomit as soon as I felt the room roll beneath me. "Where am I?" My voice nearly broke as I swallowed down a wave of bile climbing up from my stomach.

"Dreaming," he murmured.

"Dreaming?" My brows knit together, and, against better judgment, I sat up. I instantly regretted it. The suddenness of my movements coupled horribly with the swaying of the room.

I sank against the squeaky mattress.

He set the book down on a nearby table, and he stared at me evenly, as if he was weighing and measuring my worth. "This is the Shade."

My head jerked up at this, and my eyes hungrily took in every inch of the room. He was right. The light, while dim, was green. The shadows, which I had foolishly mistaken for darkness, were very much alive, watching me. We were in that sunken place, where all ambient noise died.

"I can't dream in the Shade," I said, words slurring together.

The Lord High Commander stood and offered me his hand. "Come, let me show you."

Oh, boy, I remember how poorly touching the Lord High Commander had gone on all occasions. While I was not so eager to try for a third time, I hesitantly reached out, my arm trembling against my internal dread.

He took my hand in his, and he nudged me forward. My legs reflexively slipped off the mattress, and my feet touched the cool wooden floor.

Before I could find my equilibrium, the Lord High Commander had stepped to the side and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Breathe," he said soothingly against the shell of my ear.

He knows this place, was all I could think. I knew this place, too. But I had a sinking feeling that he knew it better.

"It has many names—the Netherworld, the Underworld, Hell, the Place of the Undying—but it is all the same," he said, guiding me through one of the wooden doors and into a brightly lit corridor. The pale green light flickered across the walls, across us both.

"Shouldn't there be more?" More people. More things. More activity.

In the Temple teachings, the Place of the Undying was where the souls gathered after death. But, every time I entered the Shade, there was only those who were freshly or almost dead.

"The Shade has many levels," the Lord High Commander murmured, keeping me tucked tightly against him. "This is the Near. It is where those who are recently departed come."

"Where the shadows devour their souls?" My gaze flicked up to him. It was the only way I knew how to describe what had happened to Tolly, or Merth, or the driver.

A small smile played on the Lord High Commander's lips. "Yes."

"How does it know we're not dead? Why does it not try to devour us?"