I'm being watched by hundreds of ghostly figures.
They crowd behind Mercer, filling the empty spaces of the chapel. Human faces peer at me, of all shapes and sizes, colour and sexes, children and adults alike. Among them are faces I don't recognise; faces that aren't human. Feline figures with eyes of yellow sulphur and talons of a bird are the tallest in the crowd, with tails that flit with easygoing grace. Horned, delicate humans with feathery wings stand beside dark-skinned elves. There's so much variety and colour all at once that I sway, momentarily disbelieving.
'What...!' I cry, taking a staggering step away. My mouth drops as my eyes raise to the levels above, where yet more creatures and humans hang from balconies, staring at me with as much intent as I them.
Sybella doesn't move to help me. She watches me fumbling with an uninterested expression. Then, she says, 'Surely you have heard of other creatures in other lands. Is the human world really that backwards, nowadays?'
My chest hurts and my head spins. Am I still breathing? I take a gasp of air. 'No...! Didn't know that they existed!'
I do not know what "they" are, apart from a lot furrier and scalier than me.
Sybella sighs. 'Humans. Only ever see what their eyes tell them.'
'That's entirely normal!'
'Not when there's so much more to see,' Sybella murmurs. 'Minoa is one small island among a sea of stars, and yet all the lives run to the river that is the Underworld, a current that pulls all to it at different speeds. That boy sees. You now see. Before, they were invisible to you during the day, and appeared human during the night. Now, you see both day and night, and any form true they take.'
What in Hades is she talking about? Stars and currents?
That boy? I follow Sybella's nod. Mercer.
'You mean Mercer saw before I did?' I shake my head in wonder. Then, I remember Mercer chatting away to the statue on the evening of our arrival. I'd assumed he'd invented a companion, but...maybe he'd actually been perceptive.
Maybe, but my ego doubts it.
'He's a pleasant surprise,' Sybella agrees, surveying the boy like a fruit that hadn't yet gone off. 'Now, go and find what you came for.'
She gives me a slight push, and I jerk forwards. I haven't even asked her yet about Minoa, and where all these creatures came from. Were there really other worlds?
Find what you came here for. I goddamn hope that whoever killed Nate was from this world.
Plastering my confident air back on, I fold my arms and say, 'Are you not going to introduce me to your friends, Mercer?'
The boy stops, halting in his tracks. Then, he turns slowly with a grin on his face. 'You can finally see them, can you?'
'Yeah, so lose that air of superiority. I'm back in charge.'
'If you lead, everyone will hate us. You're a despicable human being.'
'How romantic, but I'm married. Lead on then, guide.'
In a twist of irony, for the first time, Mercer is being my guide. I step hurriedly to keep up with him; the streams of souls hanging around to watch us disperse at an equal rate. Every so often, Mercer stops to speak to someone, asking for directions, and they point him towards a stairwell or turn. After several of these stops, a kind soul decides to lead us straight there, taking us along a winding, narrow staircase until we reach an imposing door.
Mercer steps back as the soul that escorted us hurries away. I realise that he's moving back to allow me to take the lead. Palms suddenly sweating, I knock on the door.
There's a clattering noise inside, and then a thunk as the lock clicks open. A woman pulls the door open, breathing out when she sees me.
'Nerissa, right?' She beams, holding her arms out to let us through. Tentative, I step inside the large, domed room of bookshelves. Inside, there appears to be a desk as big as a double bed.
'Yes...' I reply, answering with deliberate slowness. Her knowing my name could be a good sign. Maybe she knows about me, or maybe Hadrian has put a real bounty on my head this time.
Mercer gives a polite cough, prompting me to continue. I scoot him a glare. Does he not see the danger?
I concede, however, when the woman continues to grin at us.
'Pleased to meet you,' I say grudgingly. Mercer beams. I keep my gaze routed on our surroundings, hoping not to make eye contact.
'My name is Clae,' the woman continues, and at that point I look up. I glance at her muddy brown hair and her face, a mixture of scars and weather that shows she's tough as nails, through and through. I nearly screech out loud when I realise that there's feathery wings curled up against her back.
'Never seen wings before?' Clae says, her smile alluring. Wings! My hand flies to my mouth, choking a yelp. Clae sees my discomfort, and her smile turns sad.
'Here; you're as white as a ghost!' she tips me a wink, and I ignore the terrible joke. She and Mercer steer me to the comfy armchair by the desk, which spins as I sit on it, mouth slack. 'Let me get you some tea.'
As the winged girl dashes away, I spin back to Mercer. 'What is going on? I thought-- I didn't-- wings! Cat creatures! There was a man with a snake's tongue!'
My golden haired guard laughs. 'You weren't surprised at all to find out about this land of the dead, and yet you're scared of a few feathers? Chill, Ness. This doesn't change anything.'
My eyes rove over the papers on the desk. There's a decanter beside them, filled with clear odourless liquid-- water, I surmise. The papers are stacked in the most orderly fashion; bookmarked with coloured tabs, and written in neat, rhythmical handwriting.
Reports, I muse. There's accounts of eyewitnesses, details of events-- that I can tell from scanning over them. The little tabs are written with place names, filed in alphabetical order. When Mercer turns away, my fingers quickly delve through them, starting from A.
Airneth. Angelica. Ashwyrn...
...Illychia. Korden. Labyrinthia...Minoa.
I pause. Then, I flip the pages to the pages marked with my home city, my family, my life.
The island is summarised in one single, introductory page.
The Kingdom of Minoa is a small island in the northern co-ordinates of the Gaulway planet, within Hoag's Object, of the constellation Serpens.
Minoa has a rich history of sacrifice and religion. Its people worship the Former Gods of the Courts, and as such there are many temples across the island. It has been left largely unaffected by the industrial revolution occuring in its neighbouring counties, such as Illychia, and its population continues to strive on poor labour, with a strong separation between the rich and poor. One of its many traditions includes the sacrifice of a virgin girl to become the bride of Hadrian, a task charged of Queen Portia VI that still continues to this day.
The first rulers of Minoa settled there for the island's defences and fish. The first King and Queen...
'There! Your tea!' Clae's voice, bright and melodic, startles me. I slam the papers back down with the subtlety of a falling rock. Either she doesn't notice, or she plays her reaction with expert indifference, setting the steaming mug before me.
I frown at it. The liquid is clear and yet green, as though she's given me a cup of steaming seawater.
'What is this?' I demand petulantly. 'This isn't tea, it's green.'
Clae looks at me in her calm, composed way, and the smile returns. 'It's the tea of my people, Nerissa.'
Automatically, my hands clamp around the mug for warmth. There's a chill in the Underworld that never fully goes away; the radiating heat lessens the numbness of my fingers.
'Your people?' I ask. 'Are they...are they from a different...world?'
I can still hardly believe such a thing. I'd known from a young age that there was life after death; that, to be precise, there was a man who came to collect Nate's soul. Minoa has always been a large port; travellers often passed through travelling north, and vice versa. But few Minoans could afford passage aboard a vessel to leave, let alone take up residence across the sea. Tales of elves and ogres from the sailors passing through were always seen as that: tales. We'd had little much else to go on.
Angels and demons had never come into it.
'Yes,' says Clae, and she pulls up a stool for Mercer. He declines it, letting her take the seat beside me. 'My friends and family are there.'
'So...can't you go back? Even though you're...'
Here? Dead?
'We are not necromancers,' Clae shakes her head. 'We can move between worlds to guide souls, but we cannot take physical form. We are, essentially, ghosts.'
There's a sad lilt to her head. Her grief is still fresh inside her.
Like mine.
We are not so different. I have a feeling I know why she's here, and not passed beyond.
'Why do you stay here?' Mercer asks.
He might See better, but he doesn't have my intuition.
'I still get to see them,' she says.
Okay, so she's a lot more sentimental than I am. I couldn't care less if I never saw my father again...
'Besides,' Clae continues, 'I had nowhere I wanted to pass on to. Beyond the Underworld, it's...whatever you believe in.'
'Elysium?' I say, my voice sceptical. Who would believe in that?
'Elysium is a common Minoan belief,' Clae replies, gesturing towards the stack of papers that I'd been reading earlier. 'The Courts do exist, of course. But there are other such places.'
'But you don't believe in them,' I say.
Clae shrugs. 'I believed in the people that saved me. If I can help them, even from here, then that's what I want. So I ended up winding my way here.'
I sip the tea tentatively. It's hot and bitter. I decide not to tell Clae that I much prefer traditional Minoan tea.
'I would greatly appreciate your help,' I say, voice choking a little. The lull in the conversation has opened up room to discuss what I'm here for. 'I'm looking for my brother's soul. His name is Nate-- Nathaniel. I saw his soul get taken, but I haven't been able to find him.'
Clae looked thoughtful. 'I see. If you were still alive when you saw his soul get taken, then I think you saw it get separated from his earthly body-- in essence, a reaping. We definitely keep a register here of all the souls that were reaped. Here, let me show you.'
Gladly, I leave the tea on the table and scurry to where Clae is pulling open a set of cupboard doors to a large glass case. Inside, hundreds of leather volumes, bound tightly together, are chronicled in order. 'Voila! The Book of the Shades!'
Taking out the most recent one, Clae places it carefully on the counter and flips through it.
'How many years ago was it? This dates back to five years ago...ah...what month? Let's see...'
After a few minutes of thumbing through pages, Clae says, 'We have a Nathaniel here, from Minoa. Is this him?'
I jump, fumbling to see. There, just above Clae's finger, is a single, neat sentence.
Nathaniel Sarabella.
I check and double check the entry. It's in the same calligraphy, with the exact date, time and place. And, in the second to last column, the signature of the reaper: King Hadrian.
I frown. This is the only one that has been signed by the King; wasn't that odd? I ask Clae, but she shrugs.
'King Hadrian handles the more difficult cases,' she says, 'Murders and such...'
She stops, horrified. My expression had turned poised, neutral, at the word murder. I brush it away, and casually say, 'Why is this last column blank?'
Clae's expression falters as she peers at the farthest column, a blank among a sea of written locations. 'We normally write where the soul gets clarked into, once they...'
So it's true. Nate never arrived. His soul never passed on.
Tapping her forehead lightly, Clae leaps towards the desk again. 'That's it! I'm so stupid! Here, his case is in here.'
Opening the papers on her desk once more, she pulls open the tab on Minoa and flicks through the cases. Then, she hands me the slim sheet that tells me the only information I have on my brother's soul.
My hands tremble as I read it. After doing so, I count to ten, and then pass it soundlessly to Mercer.
'I have to go save him,' I say, 'Will you show me the way through?'
Clae smiles weakly. She must already know of the case; she doesn't need to read it after Mercer finishes, his face white.
'Would you listen if I tell you that's its dangerous?' she asks.
I shake my head.
'I didn't think so.'
'I'm going too,' Mercer says. I grin gratefully at him. There'll be someone to bring my body home, at least. As he hands me back Nate's paper, I nod in thanks. Then, I tuck the details safely into my pocket.
'I can't stop you. But I want you to be careful,' Clae sighs. 'Come this way.'
She crosses the room and pulls open another door. Yet another spiral staircase winds from it. We begin an arduous climb; the revolving stairs seem endless, dark and stuffy. When we reach a level platform, we cross a bridge until we step outside.
The city of the Underworld flares out below, and a gust of wind meets us. My hair flies wildly, and I step back into Mercer, who catches me with a bump. We both gasp; we're now on the outside of the tree, the tallest point in the city, and we still have more stairs to climb.
On the outside.
Thankfully, there's railings in the form of some flimsy metal and ropes. I try not to look down at the city coming alive below us, nor to the winding rivers surrounding it, all flooding out to the large waterfall that is the focus of the Underworld. I try to concentrate on every carved wooden step, my hands clammy and my head a little dizzy.
It's a relief when we begin to weave through empty branches, and finally step onto the platform at the top.
The gate is open; I can see the strange, swirling power emitting a dull light. It makes your eyes water; I can't look at it fully. Mercer is having similar problems, and we wince at each other. Clae urges us forwards.
'I can't go any further without getting drawn in, but here it is. To travel to your destination, please picture the word or picture clearly in your head! If you're worried you'll separate, hold hands.'
I lace my fingers through Mercer's as he is looking ever so slightly green. I give them a squeeze and a reassuring smile, but he just swallows nervously and steps into the light.
'Remember, concentrate on your destination! Picture--'
BANG! Somewhere, a door thuds open, and steps can be heard storming up. Mercer startles, his hand twitching out of mine as he steps forwards in a hurry. The light shoots out in beams to engulf him; I'm half amazed by the process and watching it, half terrified of whoever was following us up.
Clae swears. 'Now wait until Mercer is gone, otherwise you'll mess up the wavelengths...'
Mercer's body begins to blend into the light, the laces weaving around him as he walks into the portal.
'Nerissa!'
I flinch, and, despite myself, turn around.
Hadrian is racing up the shallow steps, his face red and his breath coming in harsh shudders. He reaches the top of the stairs with a look of fury and terror combined.
'I'm sorry,' I whisper, and I take a step back. Mercer's body has nearly disappeared. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clae give a subtle nod.
'Ness!' Hadrian screams, 'Wait!'
The light begins to wash over me; it feels like electricity, warm on my skin. I sigh into it, stepping back further. I'm going home, I think. I picture the exact street in my mind that I need to go to. It's so vivid I can almost smell the fish from the harbour.
The rushing sounds. The shouting. The dirt covering the cobblestones. That stench of human.
-- 'Ness! I never told you...'
Told me what?
A figure is ploughing towards me through the mist, desperate and afraid. I frown; who is following me into the light? Isn't that dangerous?
The electricity sparks along my arms as I catch sight of my husband, frantically reaching for me. My legs continue to step back, and I feel an odd sensation as the light washes over me entirely, and his hand runs through the air where my forearm was once whole.
I'll find you. No matter where you are, I'll find you.
Is that Hadrian?
And I'll tell you properly. When this is over...
...will you come back and stay with me?
---
A/N: dun duuuun duuuuun! So, Equinox and LSB have finally intertwined so if you haven't read my other work, here is an excuse to do so!
Although, you don't NEED to read it to get the plot. If you have read Equinox, what did you think?
So, Ness is off to save Nate's soul with Mercer, and Hadrian hurrying in tow. What do you think will happen next? And his CONFESSION.............!!!!!
lots of love
Larissa
P.S, sorry for the accidental update a few days earlier! It wasn't yet finished but I pressed publish instead of save. #whoops #dontkillme