Chapter 10

CHAPTER10

Beauty’s father returned and with him came an air of discomfort. Lore knew that the old man had to know who she was and what she could do. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he wanted some time with his daughter to rest, or at least understand who was staying with them now.

The last thing she needed was to feel like a burden.

Lore excused herself and Abraxas followed her out of the root cellar. Neither of them had to worry too much in Tenebrous. As long as she kept her face hidden, then they were safer than Beauty or her father.

“Do you think you can keep yourself hidden for a while?” Abraxas asked, his stomach still rumbling.

“Go hunting,” she said with a laugh. “Everyone for miles around will know that you’re starving and wonder why both of us look so well fed if you can’t keep your belly quiet.”

“Where will you be?”

He stood with the moon outlining his form. His dark hair shifted in the breeze and his broad shoulders nearly blotted out the moon.

Lore smiled. “I’m going to go home for a bit. See if there’s anything left in there that might be useful.”

His gaze softened, and he tugged her into his arms. “Stay out of trouble,” he whispered against her hair. “I won’t be long.”

“I know you won’t.”

Lore lingered on their kiss, pressing herself against his body as though this was goodbye. Because neither of them ever knew if it would be goodbye. They still feared losing each other, and she still feared what it would mean if he didn’t come back.

Abraxas let their hands clutch each other until the last moment. Her fingers felt empty without his to hold on to.

Sighing, Lore turned away from Borovoi’s home and tightened her hood around her head. She could so easily disappear into the depths of Tenebrous. Hadn’t she done it a thousand times in her life? Hadn’t she walked these streets with Goliath at her side as they ducked away from Umbral Soldiers?

The memories walked beside her as she made her way through the dark streets. There were few people out and about these days. No humans were left to keep the taverns open or the bars bustling at this time of night. Instead, she was faced with a ghost town.

Familiar rungs appeared on the side of a house she’d hoped would still be standing. As she had her entire life, Lore climbed up the side of the building and crouched on the rooftops.

Above her head, far on the horizon, she saw the outline of a dragon. Just as she had years ago. Although now the image filled her with a sense of peace and longing rather than fear and dread.

He knew it was a risk for someone to see him. And yet he still had let his shadow pass in front of the white fluffy clouds and the silver rays of the moon, just in case she needed to see him.

Perhaps he’d already suspected her fears. That she’d have to go through the city and that someone would recognize her. Or that she would find the places she once loved already burned to the ground. He had to know how much it would kill her to see that.

And see it she would.

Lore raced across the rooftops like a woman born of wind. Her feet barely touched the shingles as she moved throughout the city and learned the new patterns and pathways that would lead her to where she wanted to go.

She had to turn back multiple times because the house she’d expected to be there was gone. But eventually she made it to her side of the city. The same place where she’d sat every single night, smoking her elfweed, talking to Goliath on the other side of the street.

As she sank down into her old spot, she shuddered at the sight in front of her. The home where Goliath had painted his rising sun was gone. The ashes still floated in the air when she sat down. They’d gathered on the rooftop like a fine layer of snow and no wind had blown them away yet.

She could still see him. He’d leaned out that window every time she was here, complaining about the smell of her smoke or laughing at the way she’d blown rings at him. He had been perfect. More than that, he’d been the best friend she’d ever had.

And now he was gone.

There was nothing she could do about it, and she knew she couldn’t pull him back from that dark place. How would she even find him? Would it be right to even do so? He had no body to return to, no life waiting for him.

And then she’d left. She’d headed out to the dragon isles and left all that they’d fought for and left everyone else under the rule of a woman that neither of them had really trusted. Margaret had betrayed them all, and it felt a little like Goliath had died for nothing.

That warmongering bitch would get what was coming to her. Lore would avenge the memory of her friend if only for this moment, staring at the home where he had rested his head.

Did Margaret even remember? Did she even know that she’d burned down his house? They’d all mourned him together. She’d seen Margaret’s face when she realized that her cause had been the catalyst to his death. She knew that Margaret felt guilt after she’d said goodbye to Goliath.

But in the end, had she done anything to make amends for it, or had she simply continued down the same path that had gotten him killed?

Shaking her head, she leaned back on her hands and stared up at the sky instead. “I miss you,” she whispered into the wind, hoping that her words would somehow find his spirit. “I’ve spent far too long looking up at the clouds and wanting to go anywhere but here. Now that I’m older, now that I’ve seen too much, I have realized that I didn’t appreciate what I had with you. Seeing you there in that window used to give me so much peace, and now I don’t even have that.”

Tears burned in her eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away. It felt good for them to drip down her cheeks, even if it meant he was gone. She needed this moment to break.

Sniffling, she eventually stopped herself. There was no use in crying about what had already happened. She had her moment, and now it was time to keep going.

Lore had hidden more than a few spelled items in her old attic room. Some of them would be useless by now. The magic only stuck for a short amount of time before the spells would unravel. But the potions were still good, and a few of the homemade bombs that she’d tried to get to work. They weren’t reliable, but they would do something when thrown at another person’s head.

Skittering over the roof, she went to the grimy window and pulled it open.

Only to freeze at what she saw inside.

It was supposed to be full of dust and strange creatures in jars. A small cot that was covered in bird droppings, after all this time, would rest against the back wall, where she’d hidden most of her things. The other shelving units were full of whatever nonsense the owner had forgotten about. Mostly creepy and terrifying things.

Except now, the room was clean. It was filled with colorful fabric and hand painted golden stars. A few orbs still danced in the air to give off light that sparkled through the swaths of fabric and made the stars look realistic. Toys littered the floor. Each one very colorful and depicting a different kind of magical creature. Some were dolls, others were puzzles, some even looked like they had to be put back together to be played with.

No bed. No darkness. Only a warm room full of light for children to play in.

So. They’d finally sold the house. Or perhaps the previous owner had died and someone had taken it upon themselves to turn the room into something that breathed again.

Still, it made her heart twist in her chest to realize the last bit of her childhood was gone. Lore and her mother had hidden in this attic for years, and now there was no one left. Her things were gone. Her cot. Not that any of the items left had any significant meaning, but they were still hers.

Now she had nowhere else to go. There was no bed waiting for her if this all failed. There was no hidden attic to hide in or a dwarf across the street who would share his dinner with her.

She was the goddess of this realm, a half elf born to change the very fabric of time. And the woman she had once been was gone.

Stepping away from the window, she let it close so no one inside the residence would question what was happening. She didn’t want to harm the safety of the family or make them feel as though this house wasn’t perfect for them. It clearly was.

Perhaps it had never been her home. Just the place for her to rest her head.

Staggering away, she stood at the edge of the roof and stared down at the cobblestone streets below. There was a time when those streets were full of Umbral Soldiers. Now, there were only a few magical creatures walking toward their homes. They kept their heads down, not wanting to be seen by anyone else. But they were there. Without shackles.

Her mind raced with the realization that this was what they’d been fighting for all along. A life for magical creatures without humans hunting them. And yes, this was actually a fix for the problem. Margaret wasn’t entirely wrong.

The magical creatures were now free. She’d just gone about it in the most bloodthirsty way possible.

Lore didn’t know how to fix this just yet. She didn’t know how to make it harder for the mortals to wrestle their way into control, but she also didn’t know how to get everyone to live side by side peacefully.

It was all... so much.

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she weaved forward. Flirting with the danger of plummeting four stories toward the hard ground. She wouldn’t. Her magic would stop her long before she struck the ground, but she was so tired.

Lore wasn’t smart enough to fix all this on her own. But she also had no idea who to ask for help.

Now was not the time to spiral. She had so much work to do, and just because a few old memories were gone, didn’t mean she could break. Lore needed time, yes, she had to figure out all the nuances of this new kingdom that she’d left behind. But she would do a disservice to those who had come before if she let those thoughts overwhelm her.

The street below her cleared of people, and she let her intrusive thoughts win.

Lore took a step off the roof and fell. The wind whistled in her hair for too short of a time, nothing like riding on the back of her favorite dragon. And when she landed in a crouch on the hard stone, she barely felt the ache in her knees that creaked as she stood back up.

She wasn’t the woman she had been before, either. She just had to remind herself of that.

Walking the streets at near dawn was a strange experience. She kept her hood up, fully expecting vendors to be setting out their wares and getting ready for the day. But there were few vendors left.

The only stragglers this early that she saw wore hardened expressions of weariness. They pulled whatever they could out of their homes and set it on the street for people to buy straight out of the pot. As though there wasn’t even enough food to sell these days unless it was cooked into a suspicious-looking mush.

A few of them tried to get her to buy something, but she didn’t want to risk the food.

Lore met Abraxas at the front of Borovoi’s house. He leaned against the worn building, ankles crossed and arms looped around himself. He had his head down, almost as though he were starting to fall asleep. But he heard her quickly enough. His head jolted up, and he frowned at her.

“You’re late.”

“We didn’t set a time to meet,” she said wearily. “I had a few things to check over, you know that.”

“And I didn’t know where you had gone or what you were doing. You can’t run off like that, Lore. Not until everyone knows you’re back.”

“I was careful.” She cupped his cheek in her palm, drawing him close so she could smell the brimstone and fire scent that always eased her mind. “I went back to the attic. Someone lives there now. They turned it into a beautiful little playroom for their children.”

As always, he heard the tension in her voice. Abraxas scooped the back of her neck and drew her tighter against him. “You should have had that as well. I’m sorry you didn’t.”

“I’m not. Those children deserve a life regardless of how I led mine. I’m glad they’re happy.” Her voice thickened. “Goliath’s house is gone.”

“Ah, Lore.” He drew her fully into his arms then, tucking her face against his neck so she didn’t have to see the world around them. “I’m sorry for that, too.”

“You didn’t burn it.”

“No, but I set the standard for burning things to the ground, now didn’t I?”

She supposed in a way he had, but not like he was thinking. Zander had burned entire cities and the people in them, not just the houses that had once held people.

“It’s all right,” she whispered against his neck. “I’m all right.”

“Are you really?”

She shook her head once. “No. But I will be.”

Abraxas drew back and cast a critical glance up and down her body. He squeezed her shoulders, as if that might help ground her. And surprisingly, it did.

He always understood when she wanted to talk, and when she wanted to leave it alone. Abraxas took her hand and led her into the house, then into the depths of the root cellar where Beauty and her father were waiting.

The old man sat at the table, his steepled fingers pressed against his mouth as he stared at them. Finally, when she sat in front of him, he set his hands down on the wood.

“So you’re her then?” he asked, his voice a low grumble.

“I’m her.”

He paled at her words and seemed to shake a little when she sat down in front of him. “And you’re here to help us? Truly? You realize that’s going against your kind and everything they stand for.”

“I do.” She gave him a sad little smile. “Just because they are elves does not mean that they are right. And you forgot, I’m half elf myself. Denying the humans means denying half of who I am.”

Beauty’s father ground his teeth before nodding again. “Then I’ll tell you everything I know.”