“Defibrillation?” I ask, though I do not like to confess my ignorance.
“Yes, if you apply a well-aimed and measured shock of electricity, you can restart the heart.”
Silently, I lay a hand on her shoulder to interrupt her blabbering. She understands.
“Well, it’s kind of a magic, too. What I mean is that we can kick-start the system with the power I hold, right?”
I scratch my chin and start pacing among the silky dark blossoms.
“You think a powerful enough eruption of your magic can revive the Sentinel.” What a daring and fascinating theory. The little human seems to have many talents besides playing with my most sinister passions.
She nods.
I halt in front of her, rubbing my chin thoughtfully.
“It’s risky,” I scan the mists above us, “the lands around the castle and our major cities are safe, yet my protection doesn’t stretch over the whole Underworld. We can run into a Siphon.” I expect her to be terrified. To my surprise, she is still determined. Naïve little human, she has the advantage of never experiencing these horrors firsthand.
“I still think it’s worth the risk. Will I be free to go home if it works?” the human asks softly, and I see through her agenda. Bitter disappointment spears my heart. She didn’t agree to help out of altruism. It was her faint hope of freedom. I clench my jaw. A vision flashes before me: of endless gray centuries ahead, dwelling alone in these dark halls, with the echo of her moans lingering in the corners to remind me of what I have lost.
Coldness grips my chest, yet I nod in agreement. I might be cold and cruel but not that kind of monster. “If your theory is right and you help me restore the power of the vines and vanquish the Siphons, you will be free to go.”
Her shoulders relax, and she smiles, a ray of golden light piercing the cursed darkness of these lands.
“Which way then?” Celeste urges.
I take another step toward her, dwarfing her tiny figure, and grab her in my arms, careful not to crush her.
“Up,” I whisper and shoot up toward the gray clouds.
Celeste – The Anchor
I have been on a roller coaster only once in my life. Not only because I grew up with an alcoholic mother who ignored all family activities and basically deprived me of childhood, but also because after thirty minutes of throwing up, I insisted on never going back to the fair. At least I got spared another panic attack.
I feel the same acceleration, the air draining from my lungs, the fear when the stable ground below my feet fades. Dairell is holding me against his chest, which seems to be carved of solid rock. His face is mere inches away from mine, his eyes focused ahead. I hang on his neck; maybe I squeeze too tight, but I don’t care. He should have warned me. My hair whips his face, and his gaze shifts to meet mine. Amusement ripples his angular features. He's probably finding my terror entertaining.
His mighty wings of shadow carry us just below the murky haze, where light wisps swarm. He deftly navigates between vines that pierce the clouds on their way up to the surface.
"Don’t look down," the prince warns me, and I turn to face him. He’s the most stunning man I have ever encountered, but seeing him now, in his element, dark wings spread wide and whipping the air with mighty strokes, he looks god-like.
Now, when I faintly hope to leave this mess and go home soon, I allow myself to ogle him. We fly fast, and he avoids the vine stems appearing from the mist by mere inches.
His chiseled pecs contract with each powerful swing of his wings, his stomach hard against my hip, and his arms cradle me. Warmth crawls through me and turns into a wildfire when I remember how my magic is summoned.
He will touch me again. Or maybe even more? I lick my lips as thrill mixes with anticipation, brewing a dangerous cocktail. Reminding myself how sharp all Fae senses are, I look down to distract myself before he catches the scent of my excitement. The endless black jungle of vines below our feet gets thicker, and he flies lower. Dairell scans the surroundings and suddenly dives, tying my stomach into a knot.
We softly land on the scorched forest floor. The vegetation around us appears charred and brittle.
A leviathan tree stretches its bony arms, frozen in eternal agony, toward the black sky. Light wisps dance among its mummified branches and clusters of faintly glowing mushrooms cascade like ghostly waterfalls down its bark. It appears ancient, a silent obelisk of times long past, a witness of the fall of the Underworld, a sentinel whose watch has ended.
Sadness seeps into my heart, seeing this devastation. This place must have looked breathtaking before. Probably lush green canopies stretched here, crystal creeks meandered between the mossy hills, and critters ran in the tall grass, carried away in their little-troubled lives.
It is now when Dairell releases me from his steely embrace. I stumble away, missing the hard warmth of his body. My palms rest on the uneven bark of the tree, and a distant sigh echoes among the dry leaves above as if the Sentinel greets me.
Dairell's squints; his aquamarine eyes scan the surroundings, and then he slowly stalks me.
A dark smirk curls the right corner of his lip. "Are you ready for one more experiment, Celeste?" he asks, his voice dripping promises of dark pleasures.
The moment I have anxiously expected and feared has arrived. I nod, blushing viciously.
