Shayera

I didn’t know what to expect when I arrived to wherever it was that I was going, so when I stepped out of the tunnel of starlight and into a world of nothing but darkness and colorful balls of phosphorescent gases, I suffered a moment’s terrible panic. Immediately, I held my breath.

Can I breathe here? Will I die here? Am I all alone?

Those three thoughts hammered away at my skull and caused me to twist and grab hold of the starlight tunnel before it vanished entirely. I clung for all I was worth. Fear kept my arms rigid and my grip white-knuckled. My lungs were starting to burn with the need for a proper breath.

Have I misjudged somehow? Is Rumpelstiltskin nowhere anymore? Is that was this is, the edge of nothing? Of never? Am I even still in Kingdom?

My heart banged like a drum in my chest.

Then, a sound full of terrible pain and agony echoed through the vast nothingness. The shriek caused the emptiness to seem loud and oppressive in contrast. The cry had been so full of heartache and torment that in my shock at hearing it I gasped, taking that first sweet swallow of air. My knees trembled with powerful relief.

It was cool and icy, but not unpleasantly so. I could sense the power of the portal beginning to diminish in my hand. I should jump back in. There is nothing for me here. And I definitely don’t want to be alone with whatever made that sound.

The cry rang out again, just as powerful as before, raising all the fine hairs on the nape of my neck and my forearms. As though my fingers had a mind of their own, they released the tunnel, and instantly it sealed shut behind me, separating me from any notion I might have of tucking tail and returning to home.

I clutched at my shirt as the first fat tear fell down my face, swiftly followed by another, and then another.

I was all alone.

“Oh my gods,” I breathed. I began to panic as I stared in vain through the thick curtain of black and swirling colors looking for any sign of life other than the scream of the damned.

“Dear gods, what did I do? What did I do?” I asked after several more tense seconds of nothingness. For all I knew, I was alone with a monster who’d just smelled me, and those screams were a call to feast or a declaration of war.

I wondered yet again whether I was still on Kingdom and if not, whether my siren powers could even work here. Is this a land of magic? Or has my own defense been nulled?

I was going to be sick. I should just call for Danika. I should turn back. But what if he’s here?

“Who are you?”

I squealed at the sound of a little boy’s voice and twirled on my heel, tossing out my arms as I tried to karate chop it. But I saw nothing. I frowned.

“Down here,” he said in a bright giggle.

I looked down. And at my knees was a dark shadow with bright-red-glowing eyes. I screamed and tossed my hands over my mouth.

The boy’s laughter only squealed higher.

“You-you-you’re a...  a demon!” I said, pointing at the face that in the darkness appeared evil and monstrous, with a bulbous nose and a thick brow bone.

But he did not cease his laughter. Instead, the shadow covered his stomach and bent over. He laughed even harder. The sound was youthful and full of warmth, so at odds with his grotesque form. “I’m not a demon,” he whispered a few moments later, after he’d gotten the majority of his giggles out. “I’m Demone.”

And then he snapped his fingers, and where just moments ago there’d been no light at all, there was now a ring of it surrounding him.  He squinted as he looked up at me, and I saw that he didn’t resemble the great evil I’d manufactured in my mind, but rather an ebony-skinned boy of six to seven years, with smooth and plump cheeks, dancing-laughing eyes that glowed the red of fiery cinders, and a tiny little pointed tail that waved back and forth behind him.

My heart rattled in its cage, because he suddenly reminded me sharply of Rumpelstiltskin after he’d transformed for me. Is this boy his child?

The boy grinned. “You’re a human. A pretty one at that.”

His words were nice, but my mind was definitely taking me toward ominous places. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. “I won’t let you eat me.”

My words, not meant at all to be funny, caused him to break out in another fit of hysterics. He cried golden tears that sizzled when they plopped off his chin and struck the dirt path beneath his cloven hooves.

“You are a very weird human girl,” he said with a soft shake of his head before holding out his hand to me.

He had only four fingers, not five, and at their tips were nothing but long black claws. His hands looked more reptilian than human, sort of like a chameleon’s would, with fat fingers that appeared to have scales running down them.

It definitely wouldn’t take much for hands like those to tear my delicate human skin to shreds should he wish it.

“I won’t eat you, girl,” he said it softly, cajolingly.

I shivered and frowned. “Who said I was thinking you would?” But I was.

The laughter in his eyes dimmed and he cocked his head. “Papa hides me from humans because he says I frighten them. But I think you are pretty. Do you not think I am pretty, girl?”

It was the sadness and shiver of raw honesty in his voice that had me ignoring my survival instincts and sliding my hand into his. I’d expected his skin to feel slimy and cool to the touch, but his was as warm as any human’s, and a small spark of power hummed along my palm at our point of contact.

“Ohh,” he breathed and looked up at me. “You are from Kingdom.”

I frowned. “How did you know that?”

“Only Kingdomers make magic. But your magic is soft. You haven’t much.”

Offended because I certainly did have much, I very nearly told him so until I recalled what touching me had done to Rumpelstiltskin. I’d promised myself I would never again abuse my powers with others. “No, you’re right,” I whispered, “I haven’t much.”

“That’s okay, I still like you. Come with me, human.”

“Shayera,” I said it without thinking.

The boy, who’d already begun to turn, went perfectly still and sucked in a sharp breath. “The Shayera? As in Caron?”

Not really sure I liked where this was going, I found myself on high alert again, just when I’d begun to relax. I went to pull away, but he clamped down on my fingers with a grip far stronger than I’d imagined for one so young.

“Let me go, boy.”

He shook his head. “Don’t leave, mistress. It is only shock that caused me to react so. You see, master has spoken of you for so long that we’d all begun to think you were nothing more than legend and myth.”

Master? As in Rumpelstiltskin? I blinked and wet my suddenly dry lips. “R-R-Rumpelstiltskin is your master?”

He nodded swiftly. “Aye. And he lives in the dark tower just up over yonder. I could take you to him. Since I’m assuming that’s why you’ve come. To see him? No?”

For such a young one, he sure spoke like an adult. I scratched the side of my face, looking over to where he pointed, but I still saw nothing other than darkness and the occasional burst of glowing reds and blues.

I looked back down at the boy. I couldn’t understand what his light source was, but he was reflected by it, and it caused his silvery hair to shimmer almost like molten metal about his elfin features.

He gave me a soft smile. That’s when I noticed the long canines peeking out from beneath his upper lip.

I wondered whether I could afford to trust this child, who reminded me of an imp. Imps were demonic little things with the appearance of innocence but with hearts of darkness. They were loyal only to their masters and no one else. “What is this place, boy?”

“It is called by many names. Perdition. Hel. But locals call this place the Never.”

I frowned. Hel with one L, or two? I shivered, studying the darkness with new eyes. This place was definitely creepy enough to be hell, and considering I was currently holding hands with a wee demon-looking thing, I could certainly believe it.

“Never? As in Neverland?” I asked softly, hoping he’d say yes, but already knowing he wouldn’t. I’d never been to Neverland, but there was nothing about this place that remotely reminded me of Kingdom.

He shook his head. “Never. As in never remember again. This is the place of the forgotten.”

A woman’s shrill cry echoed through the vastness of Never, turning my blood to ice and making me shake. “Who is that?” I asked in a whisper.

The boy’s face looked crestfallen as he said, “She is Harpy.”

I waited for more, hoped for it, but more never came. Instead, he turned on his heel and tugged me in the opposite direction of where I would have gone. I shook my head, not wanting to take another step, sure that I’d made a grave miscalculation when I decided to follow Rumpelstiltskin. “I don’t think—”

“You wish to see my, master, no?”

I clenched my jaw, swallowed my fear and said, “Take me there.”