Labyrinth of Stars(36)

Lord Ha’an’s growl of pain choked into silence. I was present enough in my own skin to see recognition flow into his eyes, and fear.

“See me,” I said, but those were not my words, not my voice, born instead from the oozing crawl of some thick, serpentine body uncoiling from my chest into my mouth. Nothing there, nothing physical, but the presence had weight, a spirit flesh just as real, and it filled me, and I could not stop it. I could not stop the hunger.

No matter how much I raged, I could not resist the biting jolt of pleasure and power.

“Now see your Queen,” I whispered.

Lord Ha’an shuddered, dropping his shoulders. I wanted to tell him to stop, to stand straight—he was too proud, too proud for this—but there were no words. I was as lost as he was.

“You are nothing,” murmured that voice, heavy on my tongue. “You will not even live in our dreams.”

The demon lord’s knees buckled. Veins bulged in his head and throat, and his green eyes protruded in one massive, repugnant, disfiguring pulse. He sounded like he was choking on his own tongue.

“You forgot your God,” I said, and the ground beneath me dropped away, and a great expanse yawned—soft with night, throbbing with stars—the darkness coiled and cool, and sweet. Above me, the sun, trees, a blue sky shining, vibrating with life. It all ran down my throat like water, and I tilted back my head, swallowing the light, feeling it pass through me into the dark.

“Maxine,” said a quiet voice, and heat blazed: golden, like sunlight breaking.

Just like that, the ground was solid beneath my feet, and in my throat there was only saliva, and a bitter taste, like blood. The presence, the thing inside me, smiled against my mouth. Close to laughter.

Soon, it whispered. Soon, we hunt.

Fuck you, I told it, as ineffectual as a mouse shaking its fist at a lion. Warm satisfaction—not mine—gathered around my heart, but that was just part of the slow retreat, the even slower relinquishment of my mouth, which felt like a bubble contracting in my throat; until, suddenly, I could breathe again.

But breathing wasn’t enough. My legs felt strangely unattached to my body, and my skin tingled, burned. My jaw ached like I’d been chewing rock.

It took all my strength not to shudder, and I turned—very carefully. It was that, or fall.

“Maxine,” Grant said again. And finally, I saw what I’d done.

The earth had disappeared around me. No grass, barely even soil—nothing but black sand, smooth as the surface of still water. Trees were gone, erased from existence—not a branch or leaf, not a piece of bark. If there had been rocks, I couldn’t see them. If there were insects, they were gone. For twenty feet in every direction, a perfect circle of destruction.

Only Lord Ha’an had been left untouched. Mostly. His forehead had been burned with a single mark, a small hollow circle the size of my thumb—as though someone had taken a cigarette lighter to him. Except no one had. He was trembling, sweating, his eyes shut in pain or fear, or prayer—I didn’t know. I was afraid to know.

I heard movement: Grant.

“Don’t,” I choked out, afraid for him to touch that sand. But he didn’t hesitate, and nothing burned him.

He closed the distance between us, sliding his hand through mine. No trace of his earlier anger. Just that solid strength I knew so well.

“I felt you pull away from me,” he whispered. “I felt the darkness.”

I leaned against him, and it helped bring me back to myself. My body, my life, my soul. I did not belong to the thing inside me. I did not belong to anyone but me.

But that wasn’t the bargain I’d made, was it?

“I’m okay,” I said, trying to smile for him. I couldn’t do it. It felt crooked, grotesque. Reminded me too much of the darkness that had possessed me. Physical echoes, making me sick with myself.

Grant touched my face, brushed his thumb over my lips. Such shadows in his eyes, more than I’d ever seen before. I squeezed his hand. “How’s the baby?”

He glanced down at my stomach. “Unaffected. Her light’s still strong.”

I nodded, one of those automatic movements that meant nothing. I was too rattled to hold still, but pretending I was engaged made it easier to hide how upset I was.

Lord Ha’an was on his knees. I bent to help him, and he flinched from me. “My Queen.”

“Don’t. It’s me again. It’s me, Maxine.”

“No,” he murmured, with heartbreaking loss in his voice. “It was never so. But for a time, we could pretend.”

I kept my hand extended, and finally, carefully, he brushed his palm against mine. He did not take my help, though. After that brief contact, he stood on his own, swaying ever so slightly, touching the mark on his forehead.