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“What’s wrong?”
I hate that she can read me so well.
“Who said anything was wrong?”
She says nothing, simply clasps her hands in front of her and waits patiently for me to explain. I take a deep breath. She isn’t going to like that I’ve been hiding some mystery mortal—not just in the realm, but in my palace—from her for three days.
“I need your help.”
“I gathered that.”
“Do you have a moment?”
She steps back and ushers me inside. Most of the rooms in the palace are decorated in shades of black, from the obsidian floors to the black stone the palace was carved from to the tapestries I prefer on the walls.
But Kaia’s rooms remind me of an enchanted forest, with their deep greens and purples and golds. The painting above her mantel is of a full moon rising over silhouetted trees, with gold candelabras on either side.
Her familiar jumps down from a nearby chair and winds around her legs, purring loudly. Today it’s a black cat. The last time I saw it, it was a raven.
Kaia conjures a pot of tea for herself and a glass of liquor for me, fixing herself a cup while she motions for me to sit. I take a sip of my drink, waiting until she’s added sugar and milk to her tea before explaining.
“I found someone kneeling next to the River Axan the other day and brought them back to the palace.”
She frowns again, tilting her head ever so slightly as she lifts her cup to sample her tea. “A soul wandered all the way to the river of sorrow from Videva? Why would you bring them back here?”
I hesitate, my fingers tightening on the glass in my hand. “Not a soul. A living mortal.”
Her shoulders jerk, and her eyes widen.
“How is that possible?” she wonders. “How was a mortal able to cross the veil?”
“I have no idea.” Something I find myself saying far too often as of late. “But the woman was badly injured. A long wound from her navel to her hip. I summoned a healer from the village who seems worried whatever caused the wound—weapon or beast—may have been imbued with a god’s powers.”
“If it was, there could be consequences,” Kaia says, her words echoing the healer’s. “Which healer?”
“The one with the most experience.” I wave a hand in the air at her arch look. “Tall, thin, graying hair.”
“You asked for her help, and you don’t know her name?”
I raise a brow. “You say that like it’s out of character for me.”
Setting her cup on the table, Kaia rolls her eyes. “If the weapon was god-touched or even magickal, it would linger in her system. Slow or even stop the natural healing process. The power would have to be removed.”
“That’s similar to what the healer said. That she could succumb to an infection. Or worse.”
“And you want me to have a look and confirm.”
Kaia says it like an accusation, and I know precisely what she means.
“I should have told you sooner.”
She sniffs, rising and moving to the door. “Yes,” she says. “You should have. What do you know about her?” she asks after a long silence.
“Nothing more than what I’ve told you. I’ve spent the better part of three days researching in the library to see if it’s possible for a mortal to somehow get into the Shadow Realm.”
“And?”
I snort. “And according to every text I have, it isn’t. I don’t like the implications.”
