Maybe Fate: A Novel (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (44 page)

I
left before he could even attempt a response.

Gale
Everette

I'd
sat outside in the rising sun, my desire for sleep nonexistent.
Without hunger, without exhaustion, I didn't feel human at all.

Maybe
I'm a zombie, he did raise me from the dead.

Digging
at the back of my hand with a nail revealed I still felt pain. Not
entirely convinced, but with nothing to prove otherwise, I gave up
trying to understand if I was alive or not.

What
did it matter?

My
nerves were returning as the time passed, the knowledge that the
battle would be coming soon. I didn't know what it would be like to
face the Queen of Dreams.

I've
seen twaelin battle before... haven't I?

Rubbing
the spot between my eyebrows, I headed into the house just to change
my scenery.

Wandering
around, avoiding the pantry area, I ended up standing in the hallway
upstairs. Poised in the doorway of the bedroom I had awoken in, my
eyes were fixed on the mattress.

It
was strange, thinking I'd woken from some forgotten dream, to end up
here.
Maybe
this was what Ethan thought would happen to him, when he told Ethlyn
he would be happy to relive a better life.

Thinking
about the dark-haired man made my muscles tighten up. I didn't know
where he'd gone, and didn't know what I could even say to him to
soothe his soul.

My
attention shifted, spotting my backpack where it lay on the blanket.
Steeping over the threshold, I sank down on the bed, listening to
the scream of the springs.

Gently,
I ran my fingers over the canvas material of the bag. It felt like
an artifact from a whole other life, one I wasn't sure I wanted to
open up.

Maybe
that book can tell me more, even if it's just something about what
it might be like to go into the den of the Queen.

The
zipper was crunchy, full of sand. Frowning, I reached inside,
removing the heavy tome. Spreading it on my lap, I flipped the
pages, unsure what I was seeking.

Perhaps
I missed something before.

Blinking,
my thumb brushed at a slice of notebook paper. Tugging it free, my
nails peeled it open to see the contents. It was nostalgic, but I
couldn't figure out why.

Scanning
the writing, knowing it was mine, I felt my brain buzzing. It was
like angry wasps, all trying to get my attention at the same time.

It
was a few drawings, but that wasn't what was calling to me.

These
names. I know all of these... Valenforth, Canendore, Ethlyn—and
this, who is this?

Who
was Nethiun?

It
was biting into an apple and discovering the rotten core. I
knew
this was a missing memory, and it tasted awful.

Holding
my head, I hissed through my teeth. Trying to remember was painful,
but not knowing was just as bad.

When
I heard footsteps in the hallway, I turned, glaring at Valenforth.
He was watching me calmly. I saw him take in my expression, then the
book. “What is it, Gale? What's wrong?”

“
Who,”
I said carefully, lifting the sheet of notes, “is Nethiun?”

Moving
closer, he filled the door frame. “A servant of the Queen. Did
you forget?”

Shaking
my head, as if it might rattle things into place, I looked back at
the paper. “I—I guess I did. I'm starting to almost feel
like... myself, I guess. Even with that, though, I have these
uncomfortable gaps in my memory still.”

“
Don't
worry about it,” he said gently. “It will all return
very soon. Now, come, you may not be hungry, but you should eat
something.”

A
wave of dizziness hit me the moment he mentioned food. “No. No
thank you.”

Tilting
his head, he came closer to me. I didn't like that, not at all. “You
realized, didn't you?”

Leaning
away on the bed, I inched to the other side of the mattress. “I
did. Are you going to give me a story about how you didn't actually
kill the Birches?”

Part
of me wished he would.

“
No,”
he sighed, looking grim. “I take responsibility for that. It
was needed, but it's alright if you don't understand.”

“
Why
would I
want
to understand murdering innocent people?” I growled, sliding
towards the far wall. I wished the room was bigger, much bigger.

“
Do
you hate me, Gale? Do you hate us twaelin?”

Parting
my lips, I answered carefully. “I think I might hate you,
yes.”

“
Then,”
he whispered, eyes cold coals, “you'll have no issue
destroying me. It's all I can ask, and no doubt something you'll
enjoy.”

“
I
won't enjoy it.” It was easy to deny, who could enjoy killing
anyone? Thinking about the portrait in the cellar made me
second-guess myself.

Valenforth
said no more, basking in my contempt before turning into the hall.
“Soon, this will all be over, Gale Everette. Then you might
wonder about your words.”

For
the first time since I'd been brought back to life, I wondered if I
was making the right choice by taking part in this battle.

****

I
forced myself to eat some of the cereal in the pantry, hating every
bite. Returning to 'normal' was making it too hard to go without
food. I needed to be able to think, the haze of starvation
intervening.

My
body craved nourishment, so I ate in great, deplorable bites.
Afterward, a shower so hot that it should have melted my flesh
off—that would have been welcome—left me feeling
cleaner.

The
Corpse King had brought me a pair of green flats, insisting I
shouldn't go around barefoot. I slid them on begrudgingly, resisting
the urge to ask if they'd belonged to Mrs. Birch.

I
was pretty confident I knew the answer, if my clean clothes were any
hint.

Ethlyn
finally returned when the sun started to set. He appeared in the
kitchen, saying nothing, not meeting any eyes.

Valenforth
gave him a cursory glance, before putting every ounce of seriousness
into the face he lay on me. “Do you truly understand the plan
tonight?”

“
Yes,”
I mumbled, wishing I felt as detached as I had the day before. “I'm
going to commit genocide, am I right?”

“
You're
getting revenge,” he answered flatly, “then ending our
pointless lives in this world. Gale, your power is a blessing.
Remember that.”

Yes,
a blessing,
I
thought bitterly.

Ethlyn
was watching me covertly. When I tried to catch his eye, he turned
away.

“
Now,”
Valenforth said crisply. “We're going to go in. It will be
potentially dangerous, keep that in mind.” His long fingers
stretched out, hovering in the air in front of me.

I
understood he wanted me to take his hand.
This,
this too—it's so familiar. Someone else once did this with me.
My
hand clasped in his, watching his palm close like a vice.

In
less than a breath, the world shifted away.

Tepid
warmth, a lack of scent and the color of ink wash. Everything moved,
even my insides felt like they twisted. It didn't hurt, it didn't
even leave me feeling ill.

In
the end, the three of us stood in a giant tunnel, the world above
fading into pitch black. The ground was sepia, smooth and
featureless. It was bland, the sound muffled like I had put on
headphones but neglected the music.

“
We're
here,” I said simply.

“
Yes,
we are.” Valenforth released me, his eyes traversing around.
“Come along, her castle isn't far.”

We
walked in a line. The Corpse King led us, while Ethlyn kept up the
rear. It was obvious they were keeping me safe. While I was the one
wielding the ability to erase this 'immortal' bunch of creatures, it
had already been shown I still wore the frail body of humanity.

One
wrong move, and I guess I could be dead all over again. Does my
mother know I died? Does anyone?

The
idea of Becky, crying over my body, flashed by. It, too, was
something that seemed to have happened before.

When
did she cry over me, when did she think I had died...?

My
silent pondering ended as the world of black fog drifted away before
us. The tunnel opened up, revealing an expanse of open sky. It was
charcoal, floating bits of rock hovering around.

Amazing,
but not what I was staring at.

Hovering,
defying gravity, was a spiraling structure shaped like an orb that
had merged with the roots of a tree. It was strange and unsettling
and beautiful, all at once.

“
That's
the Queen's castle?” I asked.

Valenforth
ignored me, glancing over my head to Ethlyn. “Prepare
yourself, he's here.”

“
Who's
here?” I whispered, looking out at the grand spray of inky
sky.

“
What
should I do?” Ethlyn asked, “hold him off?”

Who
is it, who?

“
No,”
Valenforth said, “more, if you can manage.”

“
Who's
here?
”
I asked desperately, my intuition acting up like briar thorns in my
fleshy brain. But then, it didn't matter.

It
didn't matter, because I saw him.

Floating
in the thundercloud-colored sky before us, his white shirt almost
glowed with the backdrop. Pale skin, whiter hair, and a smile I'd
come to know—come to know, somehow.

Seeing
it made my temples throb, images of warm lips, teasing whispers, and
opal eyes that had once terrified my soul.

Now,
those orbs were chipping away at the fog claiming my head.

“
Nethiun,”
I said softly, the name rolling free from my subconscious. Stepping
forward, I felt the Corpse King's wary stare.

The
blonde twaelin looked down at me, eyes so inhuman somehow the most
welcoming thing I'd encountered in what felt an eternity.