A light in the flame

“I’m not talking about him.”

I jerked again. “I-I don’t love him,” I denied, but the words rang a little hollow. “I don’t even know what that feels like.”

“Then how do you know?”

I snapped my mouth shut. A strange, heady mix of emotions swept through me, and I felt like I was falling and flying at the same time. “I can’t think about this.”

“Why? Because you fear that you love him, and he can’t feel the same?”

“No. It’s not even that. I don’t want to think about it because it terrifies me,” I admitted without shame.

“As it should.”

I cut him a sharp look. “That’s reassuring.”

Nektas laughed, and I kind of wanted to hit him as I looked away. I didn’t want to even think about the idea of love. It was easier to acknowledge that I cared for Nyktos. Cared deeply. But that wasn’t love. And this was a conversation I didn’t want to continue.

I glanced over the hills and the pendulous branches full of flowers dancing just inches from the ground. “Does the entirety of the Vale look like this?”

“Some common areas resemble this,” he answered. “But for the most part, the Vale is ever-changing, accommodating a soul’s ideal paradise and becoming whatever they desire.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

“All aspects of a soul’s needs and wants are met in the Vale, even what they see. Arcadia is much the same.” He shifted on his saddle. “Look to your right and up, toward the skies. Do you see it?”

I followed his instructions, squinting until I saw shimmering mist gathering along the hills. “The mist?”

“It’s called the Shroud,” he said. “It’s made of Primal mist and hides the Vale from those who do not enter through more traditional means.”

As in, by dying.

The farther we traveled along the diamond road, the more I began to notice the mist gathering, clumping together to obscure all that lay beyond. Just like on the way to the Pillars, the Shroud steadily crept closer to the road, and in the silence, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would enter the Vale upon my death if Nyktos’s plan didn’t work. Or would I find eternal peace in Arcadia if his plan did succeed? Did the Primal embers truly make up for the not-so-mortal morality? Or would it simply come down to Nyktos intervening upon my death and ensuring I found peace instead of punishment?

I shivered at what now felt like morbid thoughts, which was odd. I’d thought of death a lot in the past, having accepted that it was an inevitable outcome, sooner rather than later. But now, thinking about death even felt different. A too-soon end that I no longer accepted because there was hope. A possible future that offered a—

A soft hum drew me from my thoughts. My brow pinching, I looked to my right. The sound wasn’t a hum. It was a voice. Voices. Singing. My grip on Gala’s reins loosened and then firmed as I strained to hear the words. They were in a different language, one that felt ancient, and the embers buzzed in response to it. But the sound—the voices and the melody… They were a prayer. A celebration. Haunting as the voices rose and fell, beckoning. Tears filled my eyes. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard.

Nektas suddenly grabbed my reins, halting Gala. “Stop.”

“What?” I whispered hoarsely.

“You’re getting too close,” he warned, features drawn. “You can’t go there.”

“Go where…?” I sucked in a startled breath, realizing I was mere feet from the Shroud, closer to the soft harmony. Blinking back the tears, I looked at Nektas. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” He tugged gently on the reins, steering Gala to the center of the road. “You hear their songs?”

I nodded, heart thumping. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s the sirens singing.”

“Sirens?”

“They are the guards of the Vale, and they’ve sensed us.”

My attention slowly shifted back to the mist. “Why are they singing?”

“Only the draken and those who’ve Ascended can travel into the Vale,” he said. “Whenever they sense something that shouldn’t be this close, they sing to lure the trespassers into the Shroud. Not even you with Primal embers would survive that.”

Skin chilled, I looked down at my white-knuckle grip on the reins and then Nektas’s hand as the sirens kept singing. His fingers remained curled firmly around the reins and stayed there.

Hours later, the sirens finally stopped singing. Nektas had released his hold on my reins, and the rigid tension eased from my muscles. I ached all over from holding myself back. I’d come close to leaping from the saddle and entering the Shroud one too many times. Not even snacking on the jerky Nektas had brought with him had helped, and food was normally the ultimate distraction.

And I would have to experience that again on the way out.

I wasn’t looking forward to that at all as we crested a hill, but all thoughts of the sirens and their call slipped away as a rocky horizon rose ahead. It was a mountain with sheer, vertical cliffs made of pure shadowstone and something else—something that glittered crimson under the sun, reminding me of Nektas’s hair.

“Good gods, I really hope we don’t have to climb that thing,” I said. “If so, I think I’ll take my chances with the sirens.”

Nektas chuckled. “Luckily, the Pools of Divanash are beneath.”

“Beneath all of that?” The mountain was a fortress of stone, an imposing sight amidst all the beauty.

He glanced at me. “You claustrophobic?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”

This will be fun, I thought as we entered the foothills and eventually stopped when Nektas spotted the slit of an entrance I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to fit through, let alone Nektas. We left the horses tied beneath a weeping tree, where they nibbled on the grass and could rest. With one final scratch behind Gala’s ears, I followed Nektas. We were barely able to slide through the opening sideways, and then emerged into utter darkness.

I gasped, seeing nothing as I came to a standstill. I reached out blindly, feeling the cool, smooth wall behind me but nothing to my left. I searched the darkness, not even able to see the draken. Breathe in. My throat tightened as I croaked, “Nektas?”

“I’m here.” His hand folded over mine, warm and firm. Breathe out. “Can you see?”

“I can.” He started to lead the way.

“Draken must have really good eyesight,” I said, my voice seeming to carry in the sweetly scented air. Breathe in.

“We have amazing senses.”

I clung to his hand as I desperately tried not to think about the fact that I could see nothing, and anything could be within inches of me. Hold. Dakkais. Barrats. Giant spiders. Gods, that wasn’t helping. Breathe out. “You said you smelled death on me before.”

“I did. I still do,” he answered, his voice seeming disembodied even though I held his hand like a frightened child. “I smell Ash on you.”

I made a face.

“And I also smell death,” he added. “Your body. It’s dying.”

“What the fuck?” I gasped, pulling on my hand.

Nektas held on. “You’re actively dying, Sera. The Culling is killing you. You know that.”

“I do.” I took an even deeper breath. “But having you say that when I’m under a mountain and can’t see shit puts it in a whole different perspective.”