Chapter Thirty-Five

Echoes

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Inerys’ long ear ticked back toward the forest when she heard movement in the underbrush. The reflex had been so natural, it still felt surreal to her. Her fangs, her claws, her ears– she knew how and where to move each one as if she’d lived with them her entire life. Foreign as her body had become, her advancement had brought about an inherent comfort, as if she’d always belonged in this new form and had simply never been able to find it until now.

But that couldn’t be right. She’d been born a Hound, not. . . not whatever she was now. She knew in the depths of her soul that there was no coming back from a change like this. Spirits, what would Soren and Nan think of her when she returned? What of Alaric? Her fellow Hounds? The purebloods?

Though she had yet to see herself in any clear reflection, she knew there was no hiding what she had become. Her ears alone would be impossible to conceal unless she sheared them off, to say nothing of her height, nor the pale silver of her skin. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to stuff her strange feet back into her boots.

The flat of her foot had lengthened and positioned itself higher along her leg, having aligned itself more closely with her shin so the angle of the new bend was less egregious than it was on other animals. All things considered, her legs were fairly straight, her ankle joint had merely shifted position. And she perpetually walked upon what had once been her tip-toes, though they too were different. They were more in line with a cat’s paw, complete with both pads and blackened, retractable claws.

It was hard not to stare at them as she sat upon the lower half of a long, flat boulder in the shallows of the lake. Rather than vanishing entirely, as she’d hoped they would with this advancement, the scars of her fractured soul remained. The intricate webs shone like burnished gold in the moonlight, lacing her skin from toe to mid-thigh. Her arms were much the same, though thankfully, the overall glow had faded. The metallic luster was odd, but not entirely unwelcome. The more she stared, the more she began to admire the scars. Unusual as they were, they were a testament to all she’d endured in order to survive.

In a way, she was proud of them.

She traced one of the patterns along her forearm with a careful finger as she tried to soothe her worried mind. Sorisanna sat higher along the boulder behind her, her fingers running along Inerys’ scalp as she picked bits of remnant skin from her hair. They had washed it twice already and yet every scrub seemed to yield more filth. The locks themselves had grown so pale, they were nearly white. Though, streaks of black had developed in seemingly random sections, leaving her hair striped in irregular patterns. The sage had been rather taken with it, which gave Inerys hope it was more appealing than the skunk’s tail she’d envisioned when she first noticed the stark change in color.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “For staying with me.”

After the others had left to see Rhydian to his tent, she feared she’d be left on her own. Physically, there was nothing wrong with her. Her core had fully healed, her fractures had closed and her pain had all but disappeared. The advancement had been a success. Aside from being covered head to toe in black, sticky waste, there was nothing to fret over.

And yet Sorisanna had stayed.

Ephaxus had even joined them, though he had yet to say so much as a word to her. He studied her from time to time when he wasn’t monitoring the surrounding woods, not hostile, but scrutinizing in his appraisal, as if he had yet to determine whether or not she was still a threat. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eye, nor glance in his direction outside of his reflection. Between her physical alterations and her behavior, she’d likely lost whatever tenuous foundations she’d managed to build between them. In her mind, she’d embodied his partner’s murderer in every sense.

So why hadn’t he stormed off like Ayduin had?

Why hadn’t he screamed at her?

“You didn’t think I’d cast you aside, did you?” Sorisanna asked.

A part of her almost wished she had.

“After what I did, I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

How Rhydian had been so quick to forgive her was beyond her.

The sage sighed softly, her fingers delicate as they drew yet another collection of goo from her hair.

“You would have died, had he not acted, Inerys. Rhydian slit his wrist knowing full well what would happen. He knew the risks. He wouldn’t have taken them if he didn’t trust you.”

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to swallow past the growing lump in her throat.

“I don’t even remember what led up to it. One moment I was cycling, the next, I– I had my teeth buried in his arm,” she said, desperate, “There was no sense, no control, nothing. I could have killed him!”

The sage placed her hand upon her shoulder.

“But you didn’t. You came to your senses. You released him.”

“I broke his arm, Sorisanna.”

“And I’ve mended far worse. Aside from some scarring there won’t be any lasting complications. I promise.”

“Unless he changes.”

“I’ve seen nothing to suggest he will. Tanuzet and Vesryn are both monitoring him while he rests. Should anything happen, I’ll be the first to know. The important thing is that you’re both safe and alive. Try to focus on that,” she said.

The knot in her chest refused to yield, but she nodded.

“You’ll tell me if something changes, though, won’t you?”

“Of course I will.”

Inerys ran her tongue along her fangs, her upper right canine still sore from its earlier entrapment. The memory of it scraping along Rhydian’s bone had her shivering. No matter how many times she’d rinsed her mouth, she could still taste his blood on her tongue. She wanted more, if she were honest. Horrified as she’d been over the whole affair, she could not deny the way it seemed to call to her now.

Somewhere along the edge of her mind, she sensed him. She wasn’t sure how or why, but it was almost as if a string had been tied between them. She could neither see nor touch it, yet it existed all the same.

Was it because she’d passed this curse onto him? Did the change connect them? It was the only explanation she could think of. She’d consumed his blood countless times before and nothing of the sort had ever arisen until now. What made this time different? She doubted Sorisanna would have the answer and in truth, she was afraid to ask.

The two fell silent for a time, until Sorisanna flicked a handful of goop off to one side.

“There, that should be the last of it.”

Inerys reached to pull her hair back over one shoulder and ran her claws through the limp strands.

“Thank you. I would have never gotten it all out on my own,” she said, managing a small smile over her shoulder.

Sorisanna’s had lost none of its usual warmth.

“I’m glad I could help. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to lather it a third time, though. With that nose of yours, I’m sure the smell will drive you mad, otherwise.”

She grimaced.

“That’s probably wise. Would you mind staying a little longer? I . . . could use the company.”

She wasn’t sure she could stomach Ephaxus’ silent judgment all on her own.

“Of course. I hadn’t planned on running away, you know,” the woman said, stooping to rinse her hands.

Am I not company enough? Ephaxus asked, stirring the star-flecked water as his tail twitched.

Inerys gave a start, fumbling the bar of soap in her hair.

You . . . didn’t seem interested in conversation, she said.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

He tilted his head to one side.

You were still recovering. I thought it best to give you the time you needed. Would you prefer I take my leave?

Her brow knit as she worked the lather through her curls.

No, no, I just . . .thought you were somehow upset with me. Considering. . .

What happened? He guessed.

Swallowing, she nodded.

His sigh sent his nostrils whistling.

Tanuzet told me of what transpired. I will not lie and say it does not disturb me, but I agree with Sorisanna. Rhydian’s faith was not misplaced. You have become something new, but your grief tells me you have retained your heart. I am . . . pleased to see it, he murmured and brought his head low to gently nudge her side, Truly.

Inerys caught Sorisanna watching them out of the corner of her eye, a brow arched.

“The two of you are getting along rather well,” she said.

We have simply come to an understanding.

The sage took a seat in the grass and leaned back upon her hands as she stretched her legs out before her.

“I’d say it's become more than that. Wouldn’t you?”

Ephaxus and Inerys exchanged looks.

“Is . . . that a bad thing?” She asked, backing further into the water in order to properly submerge herself.

“Not necessarily, but given your history, the others are going to wonder how it is the two of you have become so friendly, especially if you keep on like this. Personally, I’m happy for you. Whatever it is the two of you have been up to, it’s helped bring Ephaxus out of his widowing. For that, you’ll always have my thanks, but some of the others might take this rather poorly. At least, at first.”

Inerys had feared the same.

“You mean Ayduin?”

Sorisanna nodded.

“Would our friendship truly upset her?” She asked, frowning.

“If it were only that, perhaps not, but if what I just witnessed is any indication, there’s more to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Wyverns are social creatures,” she said, “They form close emotional connections, which can result in bonds like those formed between themselves and those they trust to ride them. You’ve grown affectionate with one another. Protective. Keishara was one of Ayduin’s closest friends. She may not take your relationship well.”

There was no need for Sorisanna to elaborate, for Inerys knew of the woman’s feelings toward her. She had begun to come around in recent weeks, but after what had happened tonight, whatever rapport they’d built was gone. She’d seen it in the woman’s eyes. Once again, Inerys had become the enemy, the monster. Time alone may not be enough to mend that particular bridge, especially if she somehow saw her relationship with Ephaxus as some sort of betrayal.

He was quiet for a spell, and she sensed he had only now realized the truth of the sage’s words. They had grown close, hadn’t they? It wasn’t as if she’d sought to replace his late partner, though. She’d simply wanted to remedy the bad blood between them.

Had that been a mistake?

“Would it be better if I were to keep my distance?” She asked, fearing she’d caused more than enough trouble already.

She regretted the words as soon as they’d left her, for the thought of doing so struck her as a physical pain. The dull ache in her chest had her pressing a hand to it in confusion and she glanced up to Ephaxus, who appeared just as alarmed. Of the two, he was the first to recover.

No. I will speak with her. She will come to understand, in time, even if her temper might suggest otherwise. She is still in mourning, as am I.

Inerys knew that fact all too well. Some nights, she sensed his emotional turmoil from afar and heard his quiet keens. She wasn’t quite sure when she had begun to notice them, but she was fairly certain it had been after he’d come to apologize to her. Looking back, things had changed after that night.

She found herself lost in thought as she reached for her towel, trying to decide how much weight Sorisanna’s assumptions truly held while she and Ephaxus conversed quietly among themselves. Had it been the ache that startled Ephaxus? Or her words? If it were the former, could he sense her and her emotional state as keenly as she felt his?

Something caught his attention along the treeline and he deftly brought his tail around to conceal her despite the towel she’d wrapped around herself.

“My eyes are closed!”

Inerys blinked and tried to peek around his rosy tailfin.

“Cydan?”

“Vesryn sent me. Is it safe to approach?” He asked.

She glanced down at herself. It wasn’t as if he’d seen plenty of her already, but she would prefer to be better clothed this time.

“Can you give me a moment?”

“Take all the time you need.”

Sorisanna may have a point, you have become rather protective, she said.

Ephaxus huffed, but made no effort to move his tail until she’d slipped into her clothes.

Is this decent enough for you? She asked, spreading her arms to prove she did, in fact, have a shirt on.

His eyes narrowed in his inspection.

Mm, this is acceptable, he said and withdrew his fins with a casual flick.

She pursed her lips as she glanced toward her boots, then her feet.

Cydan halted a few steps shy of Sorisanna, his brow rising.

“Skies, Inerys, you look–”

“Different?” She said, fearing his reaction until she noted his expression.

Was he impressed?

“That’s putting it lightly,” he said, “But that’s hardly a bad thing. I think it suits you.”

“See? I told you, you’re not nearly as scary as you think,” Sorisanna said.

Heat crept into Inerys’ cheeks.

“Thanks.”

The sage rose to inspect the steaming cup in his hands.

“You said Vesryn sent you?”

“He did, but I was planning on coming back down here on my own, anyway. He’s made a tea for you,” he said, offering it to Inerys.

It smelled of herbs and essence and something sweet.

The sage gave an approving nod.

“That man’s overseen more ascensions than most do in their entire lifetime. His recovery materials are some of the best.”

“I’m surprised he’s prepared one for me at all,” she muttered.

She inspected the cup, half expecting something to be wrong with it. The man rarely gave her anything. He’d practically ignored her existence ever since Sorisanna’s arrival.

Drink, little viper, Ephaxus soothed, It will aid your recovery while you sleep.

“Sleep doesn’t sound so bad, actually,” she said, even if she wasn’t sure she’d find it.

~*~

Her dreams were strange, vivid things.

No matter the context, they were fractured.

Disjointed.

She stood alone in a valley, facing snow-capped mountains the likes of which she had never seen. They bore some sort of significance to her, though she did not know why. The surrounding forest was old, she knew, but the trees were odd in their presentation. Their leaves were of deepest red, their trunks appearing as though they were made of bone. She reached to touch one, but the world shifted.

A long, empty corridor stretched out before her, ornate and warm, yet the details were lost to her. No, no it wasn’t empty. There were people on the floor, motionless and blurred, somehow. The longer she stared, the more the gore came into focus. They were bodies.

So many bodies.

Blood painted the stone walls around her, its copper tang thick in the air around her. Her hands were slick with it and when she raised her stained fingers, she was filled with a horrific clarity. She had done this. She’d slain them all, she was alone. Her entire House– gone.

The entity slithered through her mind like the oily parasite it was and she went, thrashing, back into the darkness.

Glimpses of frightened faces and strange places came and went. Something had arrested her spirit, but she didn’t care. Her strength would be enough. It had to be. She had to get to the tower, she had to kill it, had to kill him. Nothing else mattered. Her thoughts warped and she could no longer tell where the voices were coming from. They whispered to her, though. Damned her with their soft, distant songs.

The tower.

She had to get to the tower in the mist.

She heard wings upon the wind.

Someone was hunting her.

They’d found her.

She used her Voice to stop them.

Used her claws to end them because that cursed tower was the only thing that mattered.

Light exploded in her vision. Once. Twice. The third came and then, pain.

It radiated through her back and her strength failed her. She stumbled into the mist because she knew she was dying. She could not see her attacker, but she could smell him and he was close. She couldn’t fail, she–

She scented blood in the air as she knelt beside the stream. Not hers, but someone else’s. It was both foreign and familiar. Where had it come from?

She forced herself to focus through the pain.

She could hear the girl’s breathing. She smelled like them, but she could use her. Her Voice drew her into the open.

Before she could see the girl’s face, Inerys abruptly found herself upon Tanuzet’s back, riding the currents of Mistwatch, then the spirit wilds. The visions were hazy and her senses had yet to recover from the overstimulation of those that came before, but she could think clearly again.

Or, as clearly as this awful dream would allow.

She saw herself as if being viewed by someone else, felt guilt and pain and fear in equal measure. Days blended together, but the throughline remained the same; she had to save the others, had to save . . . herself?

Once they reached Cyllicia, she would have answers.

Answers to what?

A woman stood before her, both known and unknown, yet her name escaped her. She was powerful, that much she knew, like some goddess made flesh. She’d charged her with a new duty: bring her the girl.

Her mind struggled to piece out the details, to make sense of the array of foreign thoughts and emotions. Each time she tried to sort them, they slipped through her fingers like water. Not dreams, she realized, but memories.