Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

SAGE

" Y ou have time," I whisper to myself, trying to calm my speeding pulse with the knowledge that one day back home equates to a month here. In that span, so much can change, especially now that the Viscount—who is far more monster than leader—has claimed me as his bride.

A bead of sweat trickles down my back at how quickly everything's happened.

The room I'm given is designed to distract, to awe, and damn him, it's sort of working.

My gaze is drawn irresistibly to the large, circular bed with thick blankets of a muted bluish color. Behind it, the wall morphs into a three-dimensional painted image of a rocky bay under a night sky. The sea churns violently, illuminated by a lone, burning light in a cottage to the left. A silhouette sits on the rocks, staring out at the tumultuous waters. The clouds are dark and oppressive, almost mountainous, with a bright moon daring to peek through. There's something breathtaking about the image.

The ceiling curves overhead, giving the room a cylindrical feel with all the walls stark white, save for the one with oversized double doors that lead to a balcony.

I slide the doors open, and a rush of salty breeze greets me, tugging at my clothes and loose hair. Stepping out, I'm mesmerized by the height at which the vessel sails above the churning sea. We glide smoothly, despite the rough sea with whitecaps whipped up by the gusting wind, stunned there's no rocking motion.

It feels as though I'm on land, which surprises me.

Leaning forward, I grip the high railing, peering down at the waves that crash against the vessel's side. The location we just escaped from shrinks into nothing more than a small island lost in an ocean expanse. To my side, the view extends into a relentless sea, the horizon occasionally lit by lightning bolts, painting the sky in dark violet hues.

Gods, where have I ended up?

Shivering from the cold gusts that whip around me, I step back into the warmth of my room and close the balcony doors with a soft click. My clothes, still damp, cling uncomfortably to my skin, and I want them off.

Curiosity leads me to a door I haven't explored yet, tucked discreetly on one side of the room. It opens into a bathroom. The walls, partially made of glass, reveal narrow chambers filled with lush, vibrant plants and flowers that seem to thrive between layers of glass and wall. They are beautiful.

Nearby stand a fancy toilet and a sink that resembles a pearl in its smoothness and luster. Beyond that, a glass door leads to a shower room. At home, I'm lucky to bathe in a tub once a week to conserve water.

I let out a small squeal of excitement. Stripping in seconds, I step into the shower, where I place my hand on a panel beneath the golden showerhead. Water cascades out instantly to the perfect temperature as though it can sense what my body can take.

"This is incredible." Moaning as the water rushes down my body, I notice water trickling down inside the glass walls, watering the plants, too. Maybe I've finally become delusional, but I laugh at the sight while standing under the hot stream, never wanting to leave this room.

Who would have believed that monsters live such opulent lives, while in Nightingale Village, we struggle for everything? Even the shampoo smells of flowers, and I use it to lather my whole body.

Refreshed, I finally emerge, fingers pruned, and wrap myself in two fluffy towels—one around my body, the other drying my hair. Barefoot, I pad across the smooth floorboards back into the bedroom, not yet ready to put on my semi-wet clothes. I approach the wardrobe, hoping for a robe but discovering an array of clothes instead.

I may have cried a tiny bit because I've never seen so many outfits and beautiful fabrics. Perhaps these are someone else's clothes, but they might not mind if I borrow some. The closet is stuffed, the clothes hanging neatly on hangers, in all kinds of colors. I reach over, gently running my fingers across the materials, enjoying the textures against my touch.

Pulling out something that's almost cushion-soft in my hand—a black bodysuit with long sleeves and a V-neck that feels warm to the touch. Curious, I step into it, dragging it up over my bare skin, surprised to find it actually fits like a glove, is comfortable and, thankfully, not transparent when I glance at my reflection in the glass. Why aren't there any mirrors in here?

Sure, it hugs my body, but considering I haven't seen any underwear to put on, it leaves me feeling covered. I tug at the low V-neck, which shows a bit too much cleavage, and as I rummage through the wardrobe, I don't find any small tops I can wear underneath.

This will have to do.

I'm clean, warm, and refreshed.

Next, I track down a pair of black flats at the bottom of the wardrobe. Slipping them on, I run my fingers through the tangles in my hair and stand there with my thoughts turning back to being married to a monster.

Everything inside me rears up to protest, to fight it. My gut hurts at the fear that I won't find a way out of it. I mean, I'm stuck on a vessel surrounded by monsters. What will stop them from overpowering me?

Fear wraps around me so fast my head spins.

I'm going to be stuck here for now… at least until I work out a way to return home. So, that means working out how to survive, something I've been doing for so long in Nightingale Village. Just surviving being ignored by most of the villagers, by looking after my mom, by trying to behave to avoid getting extra entries into the Choosing Ceremony.

And look where that got me.

Killian insisted I was safe here, but he's a monster I barely know, and I sure don't trust him.

Eyeing the door out of my room, I approach it, my hand reaching for the handle. I need to explore and know exactly what I'm dealing with.

"Where would you like to go, Sage?" a male unexpectedly greets me, causing me to jerk back in surprise, searching the room for him.

Except, I'm alone.

"Hello?" I answer cautiously, half expecting a figure to materialize in my room.

"Hello, Sage. My name is Howler, and I am the vessel."

"You are?" I've never heard of such a thing.

"I control the vessel, navigating as instructed but also providing guidance. I assist all four thousand six hundred and ninety-three passengers aboard, including you now." His voice seems friendly, but I'm stunned to hear the sheer number of monsters who live on this massive vessel.

"Nice to meet you. I want to explore a bit, I guess," I say, lifting my head, unsure of which direction I should be speaking.

"Very well," Howler responds. "Just outside your room, take the hallway to the end, turn left, and follow it to the transporter. I'll guide you to the top level where the wonders of Blight await."

"Sounds perfect," I say, more to reassure myself than him. I head into the corridor bathed in shadows, lit only by the occasional flicker of lights embedded in the dark walls.

I push into a stroll, taking in the framed paintings on the wall of various creatures, one even of the Tidecreeper, paying more attention to them now that I'm not being rushed into my room by Killian.

As I continue down the dimly lit corridor, the air subtly shifts, growing dense with a scent that tugs at the edges of my memory—a blend of something dusty and sweet, like wild jasmine hanging in the air. It's oddly comforting, and it calls to me.

Drawn by the fragrance, I quicken my pace until I notice the corridor subtly widens, spearing into three directions. I'm swinging to the right, where the smell is stronger and leads me to a grand, ornately carved door left slightly ajar. A sliver of soft, bright light spills through the crack, casting dancing shadows that flicker. The smell intensifies, sweeter now, mingling with the musty odor of something like fresh rain on dry soil.

I push the door open and enter a large, circular room that appears to be a library or perhaps a study. Heart speeding up with excitement I hadn't expected, I take in the lofty room and the thousands of books. I can't believe my eyes. Towering shelves flooded with books of all sizes line the curved walls that have no sign of ladders or stairs to reach books several stories high.

"Is this real?" The books I've read were mostly about farming and nature, with a couple that my mother owned about a fantasy world with elves. But this… I giggle, struggling to understand how this monster world is so bad. Compared to being an outcast back home, being ignored or pushed around by others, have we been scaring ourselves with stories about these monsters?

In the center of the room, a globe the same height as me sits on a golden bracket. It's a world I don't recognize, and as I approach it, the orb slowly rotates, its intricate details absorbing the room's light. I reach out, half expecting it to feel as fluid as it looks, but the surface is hard, solid. Yet when I touch it, the water ripples under my fingers.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I give the globe a gentle spin. What catches my eye is the vastness of water. One great mass of land hunkers to the north, flanked by a scattering of tiny islands, then there are a few more small ones here and there, but that's it. The rest is an endless blue. It's bewildering, the notion of a world so dominated by water.

There's no beep from Howler, which I find intriguing, as I'd expect him to interrupt and tell me about this globe. Perhaps he isn't always around unless called?

Shaking off the silence, I wander over to a bookshelf, letting my fingers trail along the leather-bound spines. The titles are a mix of English and scripts I can't decipher, unusual symbols I guess belong to the monsters' language.

As I delve deeper into the room, my feet land on a square metal plate unexpectedly.

Instantly, I'm shot upward on the small metal platform.

I scream, wobbling frantically, crouching to avoid tumbling out as it whisks me up at an alarming speed.

The platform halts abruptly, and my heart feels like it might burst through my chest. I desperately clutch the railing that runs across the row of books.

"What the fuck?" I blurt out, gazing down at the dizzying height. Panic flutters through me; I'm not usually afraid of heights, but this is too much.

Swiveling around, I try to spot a way down, but my attention is caught by a movement across the room—something blurry and dark—but when I snap my eyes up, there's nothing there. Just the flickering lights, the shadows, the books.

I'm losing my mind.

"Hello? Howler?" I call out into the stillness, and the silence that follows is suffocating.

Panic mounts as I notice movement again from the corner of my eye. Each time I try to focus, it disappears. Trembling, I glance down and find two subtly raised silver buttons integrated into the base I'm standing on. With a deep breath, feeling the threat of whatever lurks nearby growing, I tap down on one button.

Nothing happens.

Shit.

Desperation clawing at my throat, I stomp on the second button. This time, I'm plunging downward so fast my stomach hits the back of my throat, a scream ripping from my lips. I hit the ground with a thud that rattles my teeth. I tumble out, dizzy and disoriented, shocked I didn't just die.

"This place is a death trap," I mumble to myself, making a mental note to be more cautious. Then, that shadow, the blur—I see it again, darting along the bookshelves and dropping to the floor. I'm not sticking around to find out what it is. I bolt for the door, my heart in my throat.

As I dash out, I crash into someone. A startled scream escapes me as I collide with a solid figure, tumbling backward.