A Shade of Kiev 3(27)

Where am I?

No sooner had I asked myself the question than there was a loud crack. I looked up to see the ceiling had popped open. Except that this was no ceiling. It was a lid.

I reached up to push the lid again and this time it was much easier to budge. Careful not to submerge myself, I pushed at it until it slid off. I reached up and gripped hold of the ledge. I kicked and managed to heave myself over after several attempts. I found myself rolling onto a patch of grass. I coughed, remains of that foul substance still coating my mouth.

I sat up and gasped to see that I’d just climbed out of a grave. And now that I looked around, I was surrounded by marble tombstones.

It took a few seconds to realize where I was.

The Sanctuary.

My old home.

I remembered playing hide and seek in this graveyard with Rhys as a child.

I looked around in awe. I’d lost track of how much time had passed since I’d set foot in The Sanctuary. But my awe soon turned to panic. I’d been banished. I couldn’t be seen here. It wasn’t even possible to enter the boundaries of The Sanctuary without permission. Clearly this Ancient was able to bypass their protective spell.

I turned back around to look at the grave I’d just climbed out of. I almost screamed as I caught sight of the Ancient’s beady black eyes glaring up at me, her irises glinting in the moonlight.

She began talking to me, her voice hoarse and grating.

I held up my hands. “I don’t understand you,” I whispered. I shook my head forcefully. “I can read your language but I can’t understand.”

She scowled and, lifting two bony hands onto the grass, pulled herself out of the grave. I took a step back as she stood up, revealing her full height for the first time.

I gasped at how tall she was. Almost twice my height. Black cloth covered her body—I assumed it had once been a dress, but it was so ripped and ragged that it now showed more of her body than it concealed.

I stared in horror as she staggered over to one of the other gravestones, her sickeningly thin legs shaking as if they could barely carry her own weight. She bent down, her back folding sharply, and picked up a stone from the grass. She walked over to a slab of black stone and began scratching against it. She dropped the stone and stood up.

I waited for her to step back before approaching the stone. It was hard to concentrate on the text with her rasping breathing behind me. The more I read, the more I wanted to look away. The more I wished that I had never started reading.

My body was shaking more than ever as I drew my eyes away from it and crumpled to the grass. The Ancient’s eyes narrowed on me, as though she were studying my reaction.

I stared at her in disbelief.

She began clucking her tongue impatiently.

I managed to get to my feet and walked over to the slab. Picking up the stone, I wrote my agreement in her language.

She hissed at me and gestured toward the exit of the graveyard. A pair of tall gates.

I didn’t need her to show me the way. I’d been here a thousand times in my youth. I watched as she crawled back into the grave and lowered herself, disappearing from sight as she replaced the stone lid over her.

I looked up at the old clock tower outside the entrance of the graveyard. I didn’t have much time. The Ancient had given a strict deadline.

The first thing I did was clean myself of the liquid using my magic. Then, putting an invisibility spell over myself, I weaved through the tombstones until I reached the gates. I looked around the street outside. It appeared to be empty.

As I walked, it felt like I was walking to my death. There were witches here still far more powerful than I was. Killing fellow witches wasn’t allowed, but I was an outcast. I knew that they wouldn’t hesitate to end me if given the chance.

I guessed this was part of my test. How much was I willing to put on the line?

As I walked through the city, a wave of déjà vu crashed over me. Hardly anything about this peaceful place had changed since I’d left. The white architecture, domes studded with gems; the blue lakes and fresh pastures; the waterfall crashing in the distance; the breeze kissing my skin… my home. My heart ached for what I’d lost. This realm wasn’t called The Sanctuary for no reason. It was everything that the abode of the Ancients’ witches was not.

I imagined these streets during the daytime. A few days after my parents had died, I’d been dragged down this very road, blood pouring from my nose after the beating I’d received, to be thrown off of the island. I breathed in deeply, trying to control the emotions coursing through me.

I deliberately took a turning to avoid the street where I had grown up. I wasn’t sure I could handle that without breaking down and sobbing.