“All right,” Tahki said. “I’ll listen.” He took a cautious step forward but gave the lifeless black cat a wide berth.
“I’m sorry about your chest,” Nii said. “Possession isn’t an exact art. You never have total control over the creature you take the body of, even if they’re dead. But I didn’t have a choice. You ignored all my illusions. I had to take corporeal form, which is very dangerous for a spirit.”
Tahki frowned. “Illusions? You mean the thing in my room and the water?”
Nii nodded. “I tried to bring you here. I can only appear in this body and talk to you when I’m in this pool.”
“Why?”
“Because this is the place I was murdered.” The eels in the water flared up, nipping at her knees. Tahki wasn’t sure where Nii ended and where the eels started, if they were a part of her or keeping her captive. She seemed to ignore them.
Tahki rubbed his wrist and asked, “Who killed you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “A woman named Thronis. Dyraien’s great-grandmother.”
“Why did she kill you?”
“Tahki,” Nii said. “I’ve been watching you. I know what I’m about to say is going to be hard to accept, not because you’re a logical person, but because you like Dyraien. You like this castle. You’re going to want to resist my words.”
She was right. He’d already started reasoning against what little information he had.
Nii bent down and drew a circle in the black water to calm the eels. “Do you know the history of the river you fell in?”
Tahki watched the black water twirl. “You mean the Misty River, the river you tried to drown me in?”
Nii looked him up and down. “You seem fine to me.”
“Thanks to Rye.”
Nii pursed her lips. “I had a hunch he would save you.”
“A hunch? What if you’d been wrong?”
“Then there is always your twin.” She gave him a smile. “Now, unless you want to stay here for an eternity arguing with me, tell me what you know of the river.”
Tahki rubbed his eyes. If he was going to learn anything, he needed to comply. “I know the river runs from the Calaridian Sea through Vatolokít all the way across Dhaulen’aii. It connects the two oceans.”
“But do you know the spiritual history of it?”
Tahki nodded. The Misty River, what in Dhaulen’aii was called Wairupok’ae—the river of souls—was sacred to his people. It was said the river spirited souls from the world of the living to the Dim, the world of the gods.
“This spot here,” Nii explained. She wiggled her arms and fingers in a showy manner, like a magician putting on a show for children. “This spot, where the water falls into the white sands, is an entryway, a sacred area where mystical energy gathers. Our ancestors would travel for miles to pray here. It is where the first mystic was born.”
Tahki started to ask what a mystic was, but Nii shushed him.
“I know,” she said. “So many questions. Give me time to explain, Piscgiia. Mystics are Dhaulenians born with a special connection to the Dim. They are conduits for the gods. The word of the gods travels through them. Because of this connection, it is said the soul of a mystic is so powerful it can open a pathway between worlds. Are you listening to my words, Tahki?”
Tahki nodded.
“But you don’t believe them, even after all of this?” Nii kicked her feet and the eels slithered around her legs.
Tahki swallowed. “I don’t know what I believe.”
Nii rolled her eyes. He’d never actually seen anyone roll her eyes as much as she did. She seemed a little dramatic.
“Listen,” Nii said. “Dyraien Királye is not what he claims to be. The Királyes have lied for generations. They have a conquest sickness in them.”
Tahki almost jumped to Dyraien’s defense, but Nii gave him a hard look and he kept quiet.
“Ambrusthin Királye is Dyraien’s great-great-grandmother. She grew up in a temple not far from here, raised by Dhaulenian monks after her father abandoned her. The monks taught her our religion, our ways. One day, a mystic showed up at the temple, a young girl come to learn from the abbot. Ambrusthin befriended the girl, and together they set out on a quest to open the Dim. Ambrusthin was obsessed with the idea of gods and the world of the immortals. The monks did nothing to stop them, as it seemed like harmless child’s play. I assume you know what happened next.”
Tahki didn’t.
Nii looked irritated. “They opened it.”
“Opened what?”
“How is it you inherited your mother’s talent but not her wit? They opened the Dim, Tahki. Ambrusthin found a way to do it by using the young mystic girl. They saw the Dim with their own eyes. But the pathway did not stay open. It closed as they entered, and both of their bodies were thrust unnaturally back to our world. The mystic girl was killed instantly. Her soul had been the payment for opening it. As for Ambrusthin, her sanity was taken. But not immediately. She grew older, married a prince, killed him when he became king, and took over the country. She had children and told her child what she knew of the Dim before she completely lost her mind. Since then, every generation of Királye has tried to open it and keep it open so they may enter. None have succeeded.”
“But why open the Dim?”
“Why do humans do anything? For power. They are searching for the immortals to unlock their secrets. The Dim appears in many cultures, though it’s not called the same thing. Many believe it’s an afterlife and that the gods are beings of infinite power. Emperors, queens, bishops, they all seek larger armies, deadlier guns, heavier bags of gold. But no family has gone to such length to obtain power as the Királyes have. They are willing to tear the world apart for it.”
Tahki swallowed again and again. His throat felt dry and hot. He tried to absorb her words,
