Both Taeral and I said yes. And I knew that we’d both set that as our final resolve. Come back alive, or you’ll disappoint this incredibly intense creature with amethyst eyes. Come back, or you’ll break Nuriya’s heart, and that’s worse than the very end of the world.
Amelia
Dinner in The Shade was quite somber, but for all the right reasons. Given all the trouble that the universe had hurled at us lately, we didn’t have much reason to gleefully reunite around the table. Most of us were just thankful to still be alive, considering the rate at which the Hermessi’s plan was advancing. Some of the original GASP founders were still wrapping their heads around the speed with which the Hermessi had gone from nurturing natural elements to harbingers of doom and destruction. Frankly, I was still baffled, myself.
Derek and Sofia led the dinner talk, for the most part, joined by Rose and Caleb, a puffy-eyed River, a sullen Lawrence, a paler-than-usual Marion, and a frowning Aiden. They all had loved ones sealed inside charmed crystal casings, with an expiration date hanging over their heads. Five million. That was all it would take. Five million fae to fall under the Hermessi’s influence, and all hell would break loose.
Joining the dinner crowd, Claudia and Yuri, Mona and Kiev, Hazel and Tejus, Horatio and Aisha, and my parents managed to keep the conversation focused on the operational side of things. The GASP federation was insanely busy. There were daily messages pouring in from all corners of the worlds we’d discovered through GASP, and, while most didn’t paint a pretty picture, there was still an overarching feeling of hope. Of course, it was all concentrated on us—on me, on Taeral, on Eira, and everyone else who’d been with us along this crazy ride across the In-Between and the Supernatural Dimension.
Our team was reunited and present, too, occupying the opposite end of the dinner table, as far away from the grieving Novaks as possible. It wasn’t that we didn’t sympathize with their situation—on the contrary, we were all fully empathetic—but none of us could bear to be so close to those who’d suffered most from this. It was a strange psychological effect, if I were to be honest. We just wanted to stay focused on the mission, on finding Thieron and ending this before River and Lawrence and the others would have to grieve for their lost soulmates. There was still time.
Fortunately, the sour mood with which dinner had begun had also fizzled away, as River, Lawrence, Aiden, and Marion became more engaged in GASP-related conversations. Deep down, they were all fighters, and this wasn’t the end just yet.
Mom and Dad kept eyeing Raphael and me, as if they’d seen something we hadn’t. I knew what they were thinking, but I wasn’t ready to address this intensifying dynamic between the Perfect and me. I worried that talking about it might make it real, and it already felt so fragile… I didn’t want to break it.
Raphael, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice much except the main dishes. I was aware that he was carefully listening to everyone around the table, but he kept his eyes on his plate, enjoying everything that The Shade’s master chefs had to offer. Unsurprisingly, Herakles carried himself with the same demeanor, both of them making Riza and me occasionally gawk at them—they looked as though all was right in the world, and if it wasn’t, it could still wait until after dinner.
Lumi, Acantha, and Nethissis didn’t say much until after the main course. Hunger had taken its toll on most of us, especially after the infernal trip back from Mortis. I’d gone through a gallon of spiced blood, myself, fueling my body for the grueling mission ahead. Glancing around the table, I felt as though the group picture was incomplete. GASP had grown so much over the years, but those who weren’t present had been busy protecting what was left of our existential sovereignty against the Hermessi.
“You know, you seem a lot calmer around crowds, now,” Mom said, her voice low as she looked at me. I gave her a confused frown. “You used to be more skittish about these dinners.”
“This isn’t exactly what you’d call a crowd, though,” I replied. “It’s just close family members and friends. I’m still not nuts about wedding parties, in case you were wondering.”
“Something is definitely different about you,” Dad cut in, analyzing me in an almost clinical fashion. I felt like a naked amoeba under the microscope.
Raphael downed a glass of water and chuckled softly. “You mean she’s becoming a tad more social?”
“I was always social,” I shot back. “I just don’t like all the people… all that much.”
I sounded about as confident as I felt in this weak defense of mine. They were right, though. Something had definitely changed inside me, and I was inclined to blame it on the violent experiences thus far. I’d been introduced to new civilizations, I’d had to fight tooth and nail for my own life, and I’d barely survived multiple brushes with the Hermessi. All traumatic moments, in one way or another. So, yes, there was a noticeable shift in my behavior, but I still didn’t like its dissection over dinner, seated at a table with one too many people. I still valued my privacy.
“Whatever it is, I’m just glad you’ve survived your mission so far,” Mom said, giving me a warm smile. “I trust you’ve got what it takes to see this through to the very end.”
“Amelia is a star player in our crew,” Raphael replied matter-of-factly, while eyeing a plate of French potatoes that had been placed at the center of the table, right between him and Herakles, who’d sat next to Riza and across from us. Come to think of it, this was quite the family picture—Riza, Herakles, and her parents; and me, Raphael, and my parents, a little segment of our own. “Her wit and bravery are noteworthy, to say the least,” Raphael added. “Frankly, I think at least half of us would be dead by now, had it not been for Amelia.”
I felt the lava roses bloom in my cheeks. Once more, Raphael had managed to make me blush, effortlessly. My parents beamed at me, glowing with pride. They wouldn’t have expected anything less from their daughter—the one they’d least expected to go on such a quest, to begin with, but the one whose potential they’d known best.
“All I did was my fair share of the work,” I mumbled, drawing Taeral’s attention. He and Eira had returned from the Fire Star, and I doubted the visit had done much to soothe his aching psyche.
“Amelia, you give yourself too little credit,” the Fire Star prince said, half-smiling. “You’re an essential part of this team. Raphael is right, chances are we wouldn’t have survived our escape from Mortis without your intervention.”
“The rest of us were too focused on the Hermessi surrounding us,” Eira added, lowering her gaze.
“And Fallon here was under Brendel’s grip,” Eva said, giving Fallon a friendly nudge in the ribs.
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, guys. I really had no control. To my shame, I didn’t even see it coming.”
“Brendel was fast,” I replied. “None of us saw her coming. But I did find that moment interesting. In any of these worlds, and given that their power has grown along with the number of affected fae, some if not most of the Hermessi can take possession of someone like Fallon, quite easily. But between worlds, specifically, in that blank, white space… Brendel needed to get close to you. She had to touch you. She didn’t have a nearby fire or anything physical to reach you through, like Kabbah did, twice already.”
Raphael nodded. “Indeed. In the blank space, they were forced to manifest as humanoid energy forms. They had no other way of interacting with us.”
“That might play to our advantage, in the future,” Varga mused.
“Do you think Brendel knew what she was getting herself and her fellow Hermessi into, when they followed you through the pink water and into the blank space?” my mom asked.
Lumi sighed. “See, that’s a bit of a mystery to us. I’d be inclined to say yes, because those pink water holes have been there since the beginning of time. The Hermessi must be using them to slip through worlds if they can’t travel on stardust, like Ramin did.”
“Which would bring up an interesting question: If they knew about them, why wouldn’t Ramin have used one, himself?” Nethissis replied.
That left us searching for an answer, though we had nothing concrete to go on. Harper hadn’t mentioned Ramin’s knowledge of this particular perk of the pink water holes. “What if they knew about them but never dared to venture through them, through that white space?” I offered another question for an answer. “I mean, they’d have used them more, if they knew exactly what was waiting for them…”
Acantha smiled, following my reasoning. “So, in your opinion, the Hermessi knew about the white space, but didn’t dare go through it?”
“Until now. Yes. It’s primordial stuff, older than the Hermessi themselves. The pink waters were first. The elementals came afterward. At least, that’s my understanding,” I said. “It makes sense. Brendel was desperate enough to give the white space a try because she needed to get to us. In her mind, if we managed to move from point A to point B across the galaxies like that, so could she and her allies.”
“Only, she didn’t expect her form to be reduced like that,” Fallon replied, nodding slowly.
“The pink water is supposed to let only those with pure intentions through. Those whose souls seek to harm no other,” my dad said. He seemed confused, given Brendel’s endgame. The crew and I had already discussed this, though. We knew the answer to that, and it wasn’t something anyone wanted to hear.
“The Hermessi are basically part of creation itself,” Lumi explained. “They’re not for the primordial waters to judge, and that’s an unfortunate loophole, I’m afraid. I think the pink water vets us regular creatures specifically based on our intentions, which can seek to do harm to others or not. The Hermessi don’t get that kind of scrutiny, since it takes four of them plus the pink water to make life on a planet.”
I was inclined to agree. “Right and wrong, good or evil; I guess these are our moral constructs, not the Hermessi’s. The Hermessi are part of the fabric of the universe, so they transcend all that. I also think there isn’t a single part of these pro-ritual Hermessi that thinks that what they’re doing is wrong, in any case. The rebel Hermessi believe it is and help us, yes, but, either way, all of them seem to get a free pass, while our intentions are scrutinized by the primordial fluid.”
“Well, whatever the case, the white space works to our advantage. The more we use it, the better we’ll get at manipulating it,” Raphael said.
“As long as our intentions remain pure,” I reminded him, and he paused to look at me with renewed fascination.
My heart struggled, beating frantically as the deep emerald and tumultuous ocean in his eyes darkened to new shades, penetrating every layer of skin, flesh, and bone in me to get to the very core. To peek into my soul.
