A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

Page 112

She drifted from the shadows, her features pained as she took my hand in her cold one. “You should’ve known she would find a way down here.” She looked behind them, to where I couldn’t see. “You trust him?”

“I do. He’s going to lead us to safety.”

Papa turned to me. “Stay with your momma, baby.” Cold, cold hands touched my face again. “Stay with her and find your brother. I’ll be back for you soon.”

Mist poured in, taking Papa with it as it thinned out. I could hear his voice. He was speaking, but I couldn’t make out what he said. I started to follow because I knew he wouldn’t come back—

“Don’t look, Poppy. Don’t look over there,” came Momma’s hushed voice as she pulled on my hand. “We must hide. Hurry.”

Confused, I tried to see her as she led me through the wispy void. “I want Papa—”

“Shh. We must be quiet. We must be quiet so Papa can come find us.”

I stumbled after her, tripping when she stopped.

“Get in, Poppy. I need you to get in and be very quiet, okay? I need you to be as silent as a mouse no matter what. Do you understand?”

I shook my head. “I wanna stay with you.”

“I’ll be right here.” Her damp, icy hands touched mine. “I need you to be a big girl and listen to me. You have to hide—”

A sound came, a shout that caused Momma to…to disappear for a moment. “You’ve got to let go, baby. You need to hide, Poppy—” Momma froze.

Time stilled as we stared at one another. Her skin thinned, revealing the delicate bones beneath. I shrank back—

“I’m sorry,” a voice whispered.

Momma was yanked away from me. I stumbled after her, but it was too late. There was nothing but mist, and all that remained was her voice, her words. “Howcouldyou?”

“Momma?” I whispered, stepping forward, unable to make out what she said.

What a pretty little flower.

What a pretty poppy.

Pick it and watch it bleed.

Not so pretty any longer….

A hand gripped my arm, the skin paler than mine, spotted with red as leaves rattled like dry bones, and a low rumble filled the air. Shadows surrounded him as he tugged on my arm, the edges of his darkness washing over me—the edges of his black cloak covering me as I stumbled. He too was tall, but his face was a voice shrouded by cloth.

I needed to see his face.

I needed—

I was thrust back toward the screeching and the howls. And the fog—the mist that was around me and in me. It started to break apart, and the rumble grew below me in the ground. And a voice, a voice that sounded like spun gold and windchimes whispered “stop, stop, stop” over and over.

But I couldn’t stop. I needed to see his face. The man in dark moved away, like a memory slipping through my fingers. I followed because it was important. This memory. Because someone else had been there with Momma. Someone who didn’t want to be seen. I staggered forward—

“Poppy!” The voice was a jolt, a strike of lightning, and my eyes opened.

The mist had thickened in front of me, a whirling, churning mass. Specks of gold blinked in and out from within.

“No farther,” the voice whispered, a voice so pure it was almost unbearable to hear. “What you seek is not to be found here.”

“Stop.” The mist solidified, took form, and became more golden. It was tall. She was tall. Tumbling waves of hair the color of fire twined together. A face blurred, but eyes the color of molten silver burned through the mist. Through me. “Go home. Take what is yours, and you will find what you seek there. The truth. Go home.”

“Who are you?” I whispered. “Who—?”

An arm snagged me around the waist without any warning, drawing me back against a warm, hard chest. There was the scent of dark spices and pine as my feet were swept out from under me, and we went down, landing hard on the ground.

“Poppy. Gods. Poppy.” Casteel turned me in his lap, one hand palming my cheek. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly as tendrils of mist drifted over his too-pale face. “Dear gods, Poppy, what in the hell were you doing?”

“I…” I looked around, seeing nothing but thick fog and Kieran standing above us, staring behind me and breathing just as heavily as Casteel. Confusion swept through me.

“What the hell were you doing?” Casteel demanded again, giving me a shake. His breathing was harsh, forming quick clouds in the cold. “You could’ve—you would’ve been broken, Poppy. Broken and shattered in a way I would never be able to fix.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but he looked…he looked like I’d never seen him before. Terrified. Eyes wide and luminous, even in the mist, the planes and angles of his face stark.

He clasped my cheeks with his gloved hands. “I told you not to wander off.”

“I…I didn’t,” I told him. “I was sleeping—I was dreaming. I heard…I heard my father calling my name—”

“Fucking mist,” Kieran growled, waving a hand angrily through the thick white.

“No. No. It was a dream, but it was real. I mean, it was pieces of the night the Craven attacked. Someone…someone else was there at the end.” I started to pull away, but Casteel stopped me. “He was dressed, cloaked, and he was there that night.” I twisted in Casteel’s grip. “I was trying to see his face. If I could only see his face, I’d know who he was. I just…”

My lips parted as I stared into nothing. It wasn’t a void simply absent of light. It was an end. A vast nothingness waited beyond the edge of a…cliff.

“Oh my gods,” I whispered, shuddering as I realized how close I’d come to stepping off into…into nothing.

“It was the mist,” Casteel said, his tone too gentle as he guided my stricken gaze back to his.

“She stopped me,” I whispered.

“What?”

“Didn’t you see her? She stopped me. Oh, my gods.”

Casteel smoothed his thumb across my cheek, along the scar there. “No one else was here. It was just you and the mist.”

“No. There was someone else.” I looked over my shoulder, toward the emptiness. “I heard her voice. She kept telling me to stop, and then she appeared in front of me.” I turned back to Casteel. “She was right there. Where there is…there is nothing. She told me to go no farther. That the truth wasn’t here. She told me to go home and to…” I started shivering, and I couldn’t stop. “To take what was mine. And that I would learn the truth.”

“It’s okay,” Casteel assured me, but the look he exchanged with Kieran said the exact opposite. “Let’s head back to camp.”

“You didn’t see her?”

“No, Princess.” He kissed my forehead. “I only saw you about to—” He cut himself off. “It was only you.”

As Casteel helped me stand, I knew the dream had been peeling back the layers of time, revealing pieces long-buried under trauma. And I knew I hadn’t been alone. Someone…or something had stopped me from walking off the side of the mountain.

We started to—

The rumble I heard earlier returned, this time louder. Kieran cursed as Casteel whipped toward me. Before I could say a word, he lifted me in his arms and ran—ran as far as we could make it before he seemed to lose his balance. My heart seized as the mist scattered. Thrown to the side, Casteel’s arm tightened around me as we fell into Kieran. He grabbed me—grabbed us—as we pressed into a tree that vibrated and rattled like a child’s toy. Golden leaves shaken free drifted down to us, down to the earth that shook and groaned.

“What is happening?” I gasped, a hand clutching both Casteel’s and Kieran’s cloaks.

Casteel turned to me, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the rumbling. At any moment, it felt like the entire mountain would rip open and swallow us whole. My wide eyes met his as my heart thundered.

And then it stopped.

The leaves stopped falling as the trees calmed, and the ground stilled.

“Is it over?” I whispered after several moments of silence.

“I think so.” Casteel swallowed as his gaze lifted to where Kieran was slowly climbing to his feet behind me. Then his eyes met mine again. “Who did you say you saw? Who stopped you?”

“I don’t know who it was, but it was a woman,” I told him. “Why?”

“Because that was a god,” Kieran said hoarsely. “Returning to their place of rest.”

Within the first hour of our journey out of the Skotos Mountains, the magic of the mist lifted. The trees of Aios formed a glittering, golden ceiling as we descended the mountain, and I was able to remove my gloves. By the second hour, I considered shrugging off my cloak. The steadily rising temperatures should’ve lifted my spirits, but my mind was still on that mist-drenched cliff.

I had no idea if the cloaked man from my dream or his words were real or a hallucination. The latter seemed the likeliest explanation the longer I was awake. I’d never sleepwalked before, and I had no recollection of rising. That lent credence to the magic of the mountains preying upon me, but something or someone had stopped me. And Kieran had suggested that it had been Aios herself.

I glanced up at the golden trees. Could it truly have been the goddess? That seemed too fantastical to believe.

“Would you like something to eat?” Kieran asked, drawing me from my thoughts.

Casteel had asked the same question no more than thirty minutes ago, but my stomach was full of too many knots to eat more than a few slices of bacon Casteel had offered me that morning.

“If you would like something to drink, just let me know,” Casteel said, and I nodded.

Throughout the morning, both had attempted to engage me in conversation or drown me in food and drink. I just…my mind was in too many places, in the past and in the future.    

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