“Okay, let’s do this,” I said.
Anunit came closer, gingerly closing my hands around the die. “It won’t hurt, but it will probably feel a little funny when you wake up.”
“Thank you,” I told her aloud, and thought my “I’m sorry.” As soon as the spell was done and I was in my new body, Tristan would pounce and take her down. I didn’t feel too bad about it, though. Anunit wanted me to hate Death. The Reaper had done her part in this wretched circus, for sure. But despite her many shortcomings, there was more to my maker. She was the closest thing I’d ever have to a mother, and none of the things she had done had ever been with the sole purpose of hurting me. Her character flaws had caused plenty of chaos, but nothing deliberately hurtful.
Death was something abstract, a manifestation of a power I only thought I understood. We were but servants who’d had no say in our making. The universe was a vast and complicated sandbox. But through this jumbled mess of strangeness, I had found Tristan, and Tristan had found me. We’d fallen in love. Nothing would tear us apart. That much I knew for sure.
This was my chance to give him a family. He deserved it. He was a good and righteous and wonderful man. He deserved to have a living wife and living children, if only just once in what I hoped would be a very long lifetime. As Anunit began chanting the spell, I felt myself slipping away. Biriane disappeared first, and I was thankful to see it go. This place had so much baggage.
I imagined myself in a living body. I wondered how Tristan’s hands would feel on me then. What our lovemaking would be like. Bits of me started to come off like tiny blocks, sucked into the silvery dice in my closed hands. The image of Anunit gradually faded away. Then Tristan followed, dissolving into a wash of brilliant watercolors.
A sweet nothingness came over me. A deep sleep, I realized. I’d never slept before.
The darkness was warm and cozy, with big fluffy arms that held me tight. I was swaddled inside the walls of a silvery dice with lime green edges. I was warping and swirling, having lost all sense of shape and size and the space around.
I was gone. Soon I would be reborn. In the distance somewhere, I heard Tristan’s curse. Anunit’s laughter. I wondered what that was about, but I couldn’t think about it much. None of my thoughts stayed in one place for too long. I had been rendered… liquid.
Yes, I was gone. But I would return.
Astra
Myst had brought us back to the Black Heights. By some miracle, it had worked. She’d never teleported living beings before. She hadn’t thought it would be possible, otherwise we would’ve done this sooner, but that didn’t matter now. It had worked. That was all that mattered, because we were back to a relative safety.
The first thing I did was hug my mother tightly as soon as she came out of the cave. She was quick to heal my thigh injury first. Richard and Soph joined her, looking understandably worried upon seeing our reduced numbers and general poor condition. Hrista had done a horrible number on us, and I worried it was only the beginning. She had worse things planned for me. She loathed me.
“Dafne? Jericho?” Richard asked, while Myst sat down and held Thayen’s head in her lap. Blood had dried around his nose, and his skin was pale. There wasn’t much energy left in me, but I was more than happy to use it on speeding up his recovery. Thayen got up, visibly better and blushing. Rendered awkward by how he’d awakened, he whispered a “thank you” to the Valkyrie and straightened his back, while Richard awaited my response.
“They know to fly back here,” I said. My whole body ached. Regine and Myst had worked so hard to protect me from Hrista’s hateful, deadly blows. I was lucky to be alive. How close I’d gotten to my demise…
Richard kneeled beside Myst and lightly slapped Thayen’s cheeks until his eyes peeled open. “Come on, buddy. Come on, wake up. Yeah, that’s it, come on. Attaboy… Welcome back, buddy!” the wolf-incubus said, chuckling softly as he hugged Thayen under Myst’s emotional smile.
“What… what just… Where are we?” Thayen asked.
Myst told him what had happened, and she detailed our encounter with Hrista for Richard, Soph, and Mom’s benefit, as well. I could tell it pained her to talk about Hrista, but the truth was undeniable. One of her own had broken rank and done absolutely horrific things.
I kept looking around, waiting for Regine and Brandon to show up. I couldn’t even remember how I’d seen them last. Myst’s teleporting had done something to my brain. The wiring felt a bit wrong. There were missing fragments of my memories—nothing too serious, though. It reminded me of the one time I’d taken a softball to the head back in junior high. I’d been a confused zombie for a few days, and this felt oddly similar.
“What about Brandon and Regine?” I asked, my voice low and shaky.
“They should be here,” Myst said, while Soph gave Thayen a few healing-potion capsules. That was a good decision. I might need whatever energy I had left, considering how many layers of crazy this place had. Mom had healed my body, but she couldn’t restore my energy, too. “Damn it, they were supposed to come with us…”
Suddenly, a growl pierced the sky above, and Jericho appeared out of thin air in his full dragon form, spitting fire all around him. Not far to his left, Dafne showed up in a similar fashion, equally flailing and confused. We had to duck, and I threw out a couple of protective barriers to stop the flames and ice from hitting us.
“What the…” Richard’s voice trailed off as he noticed the riders on the dragons’ backs.
