“What’s it like in godland anyway?” I ask.
“Godland?” he asks with a choked laugh. His eyes look down at me in amusement, and I think that’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh. “My home is called Olympus, the home of the gods, and it is a place of pure magic. To be there is to understand it, and no human words could ever describe such a place.”
“Why are you dancing with me, Finn?” I question next.
He spins me around, bringing me closer to him this time. My body brushes against his hard chest just a little, and I look up at his over-six-foot-tall form. “Is it not my turn to ask a question, Daesyn?”
“What would you like to ask?” I say.
“How do you know the demon overlord?” he questions.
“You’ve been watching me,” I reply. His eyes narrow, and I know I’ve ticked him off now.
“Answer the question, Miss Riverlite,” he replies, his tone nothing short of a warning. I glare right back as the song ends, and I bow my head in the most sarcastic and overdramatic way I can.
“Thank you for this dance, oh high and impressive demi-god sir,” I say with a grin, and I look behind me at the line of women watching Finn with nothing short of desire in their eyes. I don’t know why I actually don’t like that, even as I plan to use them anyway. I raise my voice, just to make sure they hear me. “Torfinn, I must take my leave, but I’m sure one of these girls would happily dance the night away with you!”
“Daesyn—” Finn says, but it’s too late, the girls flock around him, and I make my escape through the crowd. I pause and grab the bottle of whiskey Seth has left on the bar and find a door out into a silent corridor. I walk down it before finding an empty balcony with a few chairs, and I plunk my ass down in one of them, taking a long sip. I keep drinking and lift my head back, looking up at the many stars above me and pausing when I see a pair of tiny legs hanging over the edge of the roof. I jump to my feet and turn around to see a little girl, maybe no older than six or seven, sitting on the edge of the roof. She has pretty blonde hair that is super curly and bright green eyes, and she is only wearing a thin nightdress against the coldness of the night.
“I like your dress,” the girl softly comments. I glance at the whiskey, wondering if somehow this is fae wine and I’m bladdered or if this girl really exists. Eventually I come to the conclusion I’m not seeing things.
“Thank you. What are you doing up there?” I question.
The girl shrugs and points at a nearby attic window that is open. “That’s my room, and I couldn’t sleep.”
“You live here?” I ask, and she nods.
“Do you have a coat, you must be cold,” I softly reply. “It’s not good for you to be alone out here at night.”
“I’m not cold, and I’m not alone. The spirits call to you, but you do not hear them, do you?” she randomly states, and I go very still. Creepy ass kid talking about spirits is not cool. This shit reminds me of human horror movies, and this is the point where said kid kills the pretty blonde woman.
Lucky I’m not blonde.
“I cannot see the spirits like most reapers. It’s not that I don’t wish to see them,” I reply, and she laughs, a sweet but a little creepy laugh, considering we are talking about dead spirits. Spirits aren’t the same as souls; they aren’t people and they have never been. Spirits are beings created by elements, and they live in this world all the same as us. Some reapers cannot only see them, but they can control them, bend them to their will. It’s said the queen is one of those reapers, and that is how she won her academy test. I remember hearing some guys talk about it in a bar about three years ago.
“They wish to talk to you,” she singsongs. “They promise so many things for you. So many mean things.”
“Mean things?” I question, and she nods before sharply turning her head to the left, staring at what appears to be nothing. “I am sorry. Yes, I will tell her.”
“Tell me what?” I demand, and suddenly cold wind whips around my dress, turning the cold night almost freezing, and my breaths come out in cold puffs. The girl stands up, tucking strands of her hair behind her ears.
“They say you will do unendurable things and pay an unbearable cost. One will forget, one will die, one will suffer and one will never, ever rule. All of this will happen soon, as the cursed rune is held by you.”
“What the hell is the cursed rune? Why do I keep hearing about it?” I question, but the girl disappears in front of my eyes, shadows leaving a mark of magic when my eyes can only see smoke.
I always thought Earth was bonkers, turns out all the worlds are.
Chapter 18
Awareness in a dream is an odd thing. It feels like you’re awake, even when you are fully aware you can’t be, and sometimes the dream feels like a memory more than a dream. This one does as I dance around in circles on my own. It reminds me of the demon ball a week ago where I danced with Torfinn, but I’m alone now in the ballroom. The crowds of people have left, leaving only myself as I dance.
But I can’t stop. My feet move to the rhythm of the music like I’ve been trained to dance my whole life, and nothing I do stops me. Then I instantaneously can’t move; I’m paralysed with nothing but mind-numbing fear as I’m suddenly not alone anymore. The man from my last fucked up dream walks across the ballroom, his dark cloak hood hiding his face as always. The vivid memory of him nearly choking me to death makes me panic, and I try to fight whatever hold he has on me, closing my eyes and concentrating on waking the fuck up.
“You cannot hide from me, my dear sweet Daesyn, for I want you as my queen,” he sings to me, his gravelly deep voice making all the hairs on my body rise up. “Oh, the one who holds the cursed rune is so sweet, as will be the power the Otherworld gives her as a treat. Destruction and power are a desperate pair, and in her hands, everyone will despair.”
“Stop with the fucking riddle-like songs and let me go!” I scream, and the man just stands still as my feet move themselves without my permission to right in front of him. His hands whip out of his cloak, grabbing my shoulders tightly. It doesn’t hurt at first, and then his touch slowly starts to burn. I scream as I can’t move, and the pain becomes so extreme that dots flicker in front of my eyes. I feel it inside my body, burning me.
“Oh dreams are a window into the soul, as a great man once said, but for fae...they are the key to everything we try to hide. I will find you, Daesyn Heartlocke. I will find you...”
Gasping, I wake up with my heart racing out of my chest and thick tears falling down my cheeks. I slowly take in my bedroom, how my dress is hung on the back of the door, how Mossy is sleeping at the end of the bed tucked under a yellow blanket he stole from somewhere. I grip the sheets tighter, slowing my breathing and lying back down on the bed. I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what the ever-loving fuck these dreams are about, and I flinch, feeling pain on both my shoulders. I slowly climb out of bed and tiptoe out of my room and down to the bathroom. After closing the door behind me, I turn on the light and pull my shirt over my head. I can hardly believe it as I stare at myself in the mirror, seeing two hand marks burnt into my shoulders. I touch the burn, flinching from the very real and not dreamlike pain of it.
How is this even possible?
“Fuck,” I mutter, rubbing my cheeks. After having a slightly painful shower, I cover the burns in a healing cream and change into some news clothes. I kiss Mossy on his tiny little forehead before clipping my dagger to my belt and pulling on my cloak. I pour myself a big coffee and hardly wait for it to cool down before drinking it, and somehow it makes me feel a tiny bit more alive. My hair is still damp as I call the lift and head down to the bottom floor. I’m not really sure where I’m going at this point, but sleeping isn’t happening, and I can’t stand to be in that room any longer than I need to be. How did my life get so fucked up in such a short amount of time? There I was, making enough money for a crappy apartment for me and Mossy, but still could afford the important things like Netflix and snacks. Now I can’t even sleep without something or someone trying to kill me. It’s bad enough that fifty-odd students do that on a daily basis. The leaves crack under my boots as I walk through the trees, trying to push the dreams to the back of my head even as my shoulders ache from the burns.
“Told you she was close by, brother,” Ryker’s voice fills my ears seconds before he appears out of the shadows in front of me, Sebastian right next to him. They both cross their arms, looking like they want to start a boy band in their black clothes, and I try not to smirk.
“Sneaking around in the night, whatever will people say, Prince Sebastian?” I tease.
“Call him Seb,” Ryker suggests, grinning at me. “His friends do that.”
“She isn’t my friend,” Seb warns.
I laugh. “That’s right, Sebby. You have to be nice to make friends.”
“Sebby?” Seb asks, his purple eyes flashing with anger, and they glow slightly, even as the purple bleeds into something darker. I wonder if my eyes do that.
