Dark Harmony by Laura Thalassa

Chapter 40

I’m going to save you, Des.

That line repeats through my head as I stalk through the Night King’s palace, the gauzy dress I wear dragging along behind me.

Need to change.

“Girl, that was cold,” Temper says at my side as the two of us put distance between ourselves and the throne room.

“You would’ve done the same.”

She snorts. “I would’ve done worse. We all know that of the two of us, you’re the good cop.”

I used to be. Now, on the other hand …

“Des’s father can’t be killed,” I say.

At least, Galleghar can’t be killed so long as the Thief continues to prolong his unnatural life. That means that the bog might be able to scare the crap out of the fallen king, but he won’t die from the experience.

“Damn,” Temper says, “So you’re just going to let him rot away inside that creature?”

“No.”

Unfortunately.

“I still need Galleghar.”

Temper gives me a questioning look.

“He’s going to guide me to the Pit.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh shit. You’re going to try to save Des.”

Not try. I will save him.

She cracks her neck. “I’ve never been to the underworld before. This should be fun.”

“You’re not coming.” I don’t look at her when I say it.

For a beat, there’s silence.

Then—

“What? Of course I’m coming. Don’t make me get offended.”

I stop in the middle of the hallway and turn to her. “Temper, I’m probably going to die.”

And I can’t bear the thought of putting her life at risk in the process.

“One,” Temper says, “you’re not going to fucking die. This is not a suicide mission—otherwise, I’d be chaining your ass to one of the stupid marble sculptures littering this place rather than getting ready to pack my bags.

“And two, yeah, this is dangerous shit. You want to rescue your soulmate and kill that asshole Thief while you’re at it. I’m not even sure how you’re supposed to do that. What I do know is that you need a sorceress to help you out. I like frightening scary creatures and messing shit up in general. I’m coming with you.”

I hem and haw as the two of us stand there in the hallway. I mean, Temper is my ride or die bitch. And there’s no one better to have at your side than an angry sorceress when facing down an enemy of epic proportions.

But the thing is, the Thief has seemingly boundless power and influence.

“Temper, I don’t know how this is going to turn out, and I don’t want—”

I don’t want you to die.

She raises her eyebrows. “You actually think this fucktard freak could take me out? Now I am offended.” Her eyes briefly blaze with power.

Ugh, she’s impossible.

“Fine, come with me then.” Not going to fight with her over this.

She lets out a low laugh, her tongue running over her lower lip. I might love this lady, but right now Temper looks sinister.

“Girl,” she says, “let’s make that bastard pay.”

“I need weapons. Lots and lots of weapons,” I order one of my guards as Temper and I head towards my rooms. “And battle leathers. Bring enough for the two of us.”

The sorceress, for her part, is practically glowing with her excitement. She’s got a healthy appetite for revenge, this one.

Temper and I enter my chambers, and I try not to shudder at the sight of the rooms. I keep expecting Des to appear at any moment, his wry voice at my back.

But I’m not going to hear him or see him—not until I save him.

Several minutes later, a couple Night soldiers come to my chambers, their arms full of a wide variety of weapons and armor. They deposit the goods on the bed and retreat.

Once the door closes behind them, Temper and I begin to change.

Since Des isn’t here to magically help, suiting up takes a good ten minutes. As the two of us fasten and buckle on the battle leathers, we begin to arm ourselves—a sword here, a dagger there.

I slide my trusted daggers into their sheaths on either side of my hips while Temper picks up a double-headed axe.

“Look,” she says, “it’s lady-sized for my wee woman fingers.”

I snicker. The weapon is small. Temper slides the axe into a holster at her back. Guess its wee size works.

I finish cinching up a thigh holster and straighten.

There’s no more fear. I went from sorrow to desperation, to numbness, and now this.

Cold, hard determination.

Essence to essence. Breath for breath. I’ve been chipped away of my weaknesses. This is what’s beneath.

Dead or not, I’m getting my mate back, and so help the gods, I will bring down the universe if I have to.

Till darkness dies, Des.

Two hours later, Temper and I are standing in front of a moaning Galleghar, his body coated in a clear mucous-like substance, which I can only assume is the bog’s stomach acid.

The bog, for its part, is safely tucked away in the same unassuming box Des once released it from.

I frown down at Galleghar, who’s holding his head.

“Get up,” I command, my skin glowing.

He pushes himself up on shaky feet. When he takes me and Temper in, he lets out a cry that’s somewhere between feral anger and blinding fear.

The sorceress assesses him. “You never thought two slaves would fuck your life to shit, now, did you?”

Not just two slaves, two women, which for Galleghar is somehow worse.

“I will kill you,” he says, staggering forward.

“No, you won’t,” I say calmly. “What you will do is receive a shower, get some new clothes and help us.”

“You crazy bitch—”

“I don’t need your tongue, so unless you want to lose it, you will continue to speak to me and my sorceress friend here in the most reverential of ways.”

“I want him to call me ‘Great Goddess.’ Can you make that happen?” Temper says to me.

Staring at Galleghar, I say, “You will refer to the sorceress from here on out as ‘My Great Goddess of Fuckery and Other Magical Things.’ Understood?”

If Galleghar could spit fire right now, he would. Instead, he nods sharply, his nostrils flaring.

“Good,” I say. I motion to the soldiers standing post nearby. “Please get the traitor a bath and fresh clothing—and something to eat. He’ll need his strength for what’s to come.”

“What’s to come?” he echoes, a spark of fear lighting his eyes.

“Did I not tell you?” I say. “You’re taking us to Memnos.”

Memnos is supposed to be a frightening place, but when I catch sight of the dark island on the horizon, all I feel is a cold thrill.

Getting close now.

Des’s aides and his soldiers had all been reluctant to let me come here with nothing but a human and a traitor. They’d wanted to send in the last of their army, uncaring that the Thief of Souls could put them all to sleep in an instant if it pleased them.

So I ignored their advice. In the end, they couldn’t do much about it—not when I had glamour working for me.

The three of us close in on the island, Temper cradled in Galleghar’s arms. The once mighty king is now nothing more than our errand boy. He wears a venomous look, but he’s magically enslaved to my orders. And so he obediently leads us forward, towards the floating island.

When we reach it, we pass over a small city. The lights below us are muted, the smell of blood and corrupted magic tinges the air. I can practically feel the danger radiating off the land.

The buildings give away to thick, blighted forests with shadowy trees and strange light glittering from within their depths. The woods are only broken up by the odd fortress or cottage, the structures looking downright nefarious.

The trees thin out, and those that remain look weak and warped. It’s amongst these trees that we land.

I drop to my feet, folding my wings up as Galleghar lands ahead of me.

His arms shake as he gently releases Temper. I can tell he badly wants to throw my friend to the ground, but my glamour forbids him from harming the sorceress.

“Where’s the Pit?” Temper asks, looking around.

“Up ahead … My Great Goddess of Fuckery and Other Magical Things.” He mumbles the last part.

“Speak up,” I command.

His eyes shoot daggers at me. “I said, it’s up ahead … Oh Dark Queen Who Thinks I’m a Douchebucket of the Most Epic Proportions.”

Temper smirks. “What is your name again?” she asks him.

He curls his lip at her.

“Callie?” Temper says, calling for a little assistance.

“Answer her,” I order.

He grinds his teeth. “Galleghar O’Malleghar, King of Asshats, Killer of Boners, Wannabe Emperor Who Needs to Eat a Bag of Dicks and Die.”

The titles clearly got a little out of hand.

I mean, we might not be able to kill him or bring him to justice, but we can humiliate the shit out of him.

I gesture around us. “Lead us to the Pit.”

The forest is preternaturally quiet … until it isn’t.

First, it’s an angry yowl of some lone creature. Then the caw of a crow joins it. Within minutes, the woods are full of hisses and howls, wails and half-mad cries.

“Fucking creepy,” Temper whispers next to me.

The noises aren’t the worst thing about this place. I can feel a dozen different sets of eyes on me as we cut through the sparsely wooded forest. I’m still glowing like a beacon, my power drawing in an increasing number of fae. More malevolent magic tinges the air, and it’s only getting worse the farther we walk.

The last of the trees clear, and I see it—the Pit.

The thing is massive; it looks like a sinkhole, its depths cast into darkness. The longer I stare at it, the more I realize that the darkness is moving, writing about either with living things or magic.

Don’t want to go down there.

My very bones protest getting any closer.

Two shadowy creatures separate themselves from the darkness. They’re longer and more spindly than a regular fairy, but I can smell their fae magic.

I stare at them as they approach. “What are they?”

“Reaves,” says Galleghar with no little amount of distaste. “They are the overseers of the Pit, Oh Dark Queen Who Thinks I’m a Douchebucket of the Most Epic Proportions.”

“You can stop with the titles,” I say.

“He still better call me by mine,” Temper says.

“You can stop with all the titles except hers,” I amend, pointing to my friend.

Gallegher glowers.

The reaves approach us, the sight of them making the hairs along my arm stand on end.

I don’t know how they feel about me using their precious Pit to get to the Kingdom of Death and Deep Earth, but I doubt they’re going to be thrilled about it.

They stop when they get close to us, one of them scenting the air. God, they’re a hideous pair, their limbs gangly, their eyes beady, and their lips tight and bloodless.

One of them scents the air. “Our old king, a human, and … something halfway interesting,” one of them announces, its eyes landing on me. Around us, I feel that thick, cloying magic stir up.

Des’s father steps up from behind me. “As rightful heir—”

“Hold you breeches, buddy,” I say. “You’re not to talk to these two nice reaves.”

The nice reaves that look like they wouldn’t mind eating us all alive.

“The King of the Night is at the bottom of that pit,” I say to them, nodding to the hole. Strange, inhuman noises are coming from it.

Things live in that place, things that don’t necessarily belong to this world or the next. I’m going to have to face them.

“All the dead end up somewhere at the bottom of the Pit,” one of the reaves says from his twisted mouth.

“You misunderstand me,” I say slowly. “I’m telling you your king is down there not because he’s dead, but because I’m going into that hole and getting him back.”

“You can’t,” one of the reaves says. “It’s forbidden.”

The other reave’s nostrils flare; I get the impression he’s scenting the air again.

“I am,” I insist, “and neither you, nor anyone else will stop me,” I command, my voice harmonizing with itself, my glamour thick in the air.

“You can’t possibly navigate your way down,” the other reave says, even as he steps out of my way.

“You better hope I can,” I reply, “or else I’m dragging you down there with me.”

In the darkness, some creature hisses, and the noises from the Pit have ratcheted up with excitement.

“Fresh blood,” I seem to hear one of the voices say.

Yes, my siren purrs, there’s plenty of fresh blood for us to spill.

“Is that a threat?” the reave asks.

“Damn straight it is,” Temper says. “Have you not been listening?” The sorceress’s power is beginning to crackle.

We’re wasting time squabbling. With every moment that passes, Des is slipping farther from me.

I unleash the full force of my power, my flesh throbbing with the pulse of my magic. “I’m going into the Pit, and I’m coming out with your king. No one is to stop me, and no one is to do me or my human friend here any harm.”

“The white-haired fairy you can fuck with,” Temper adds darkly, earning her a glare from Galleghar.

In response to my commands, the reaves fall back, their eyes glittering with malice.

I glance at Temper. “This is where I leave you.”

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” she asks accusingly.

“You will not follow me into the Pit,” I command.

Did she really think I’d let her enter the land of the dead?

“Don’t you dare leave me out here.” Temper’s magic begins to spark down her skin, a sure sign that she’s getting pissed. “That is not how this works.”

How this works is I’m not going to let my friend get killed.

“I love you, Temper, but this is my battle.” She wasn’t going to be dying today. “If I’m not back in a day, then you can come looking for me.”

God, please don’t make me eat my words.

“I’m not waiting a day,” she protests.

I grip her arms. “I have to do this, Temper.” I’m practically begging with her.

She stares at me for a beat, then pulls me into her arms and hugs me tight. “You keep yourself safe—the least you can do is promise me that.”

I squeeze her, holding her close. “I promise.” It’s a lie, but one we both need to hear.

“You kill that motherfucker,” she adds.

I nod into her shoulder. “I will.” Or at least, I’ll try. Not sure yet how I’m going to kill an undead thing.

Releasing her, I back up. Temper doesn’t try to stop me, though the broken expression on her face nearly makes me falter.

Beyond her, I catch sight of a retreating figure. Des’s father, trying to get away, that snake.

“Galleghar, stop,” I command.

He pauses midstride.

“Come back to me.”

Robotically, he returns, his steps halting as he fights my glamour.

They never figure out it’s useless.

I tilt my head when he stops in front of me. “Did you really think I’d let you leave?”

He snarls something incoherent.

“That’s cute,” I comment. My heart pangs when I realize it’s something Des would’ve said. “When I told you you’d be my guide, I meant you were leading me all the way down.”

He glares at me but obediently steps up to the edge of the Pit.

I follow after him, aware of the curious gazes of dozens of different fae, all of them watching what we’ll do next.

Des’s father stares down into the inky blackness.

“Go ahead,” I say. “Lead the way to the Thief’s kingdom.”

“You’re going to die for this,” he vows.

Before I can respond, Galleghar’s wings manifest. I feel something lodge in my throat at the sight of them. They’re dark and talon-tipped.

So similar to Des’s.

Galleghar steps off the ledge then, diving into the darkness.

I spare a final glance at Temper, whose skin is continuing to spark, her power barely under control. She looks devastated at being left behind.

I lift a hand to her, and then I step off the ledge.

My wings unfurl behind me, spreading out to control my fall as I spiral downwards.

I made a mistake, thinking Galleghar could lead the way. The darkness here seems to swallow everything up, including him. I’m the only thing illuminating this trench in the earth, and the glow from my skin is shedding light on the frightening fae that live here.

Hairless, naked creatures cling to the walls, their forms emaciated, the wings at their backs shriveled with disuse. One of them snarls at me as I pass, another sniffs the air, its mouth gaping open.

Truly, these fae are the things of nightmares.

Winged, pixie-like creatures with snapping teeth zip through the air, battering into me like bugs against a windshield, their forms drawn in by my light and my glamour.

“You are to let me pass unharmed,” I command. I have to repeat the order over and over again as I descend so that fae who were once out of earshot can hear my words and obey.

Down and down I descend, and there’s seemingly no end in sight. By all logic, the bottom of this pit should either bring me to the heart of the floating island … or it should cut straight through the island and empty out into the night sky below. Instead, this trench is supposedly going to spit us out in the Thief’s kingdom.

I’ll believe it when I see it.

The temperature dips, getting increasingly cold. The fae that live this far down are strange, sightless things, their bodies pale and fleshy, their eyes clouded over from disuse.

Eventually, the air grows still and I stop seeing fae at all. Every now and then I’ll hear a yowl or a piercing cry, but then those, too, die off.

This, this feels like death. Silent like the grave, the air stagnant. Even the dust motes caught in my light seem frozen in place, glittering in the air.

All at once, the ground rises up beneath me.

I land hard on a pile of bones, the brittle remains crumbling beneath my weight. A plume of dust kicks up, unfurling slowly in the molasses-like air.

I dust myself off, taking in my surroundings. I can’t see much besides bones and bones and bones. There are skulls and femurs and ribs and so many other bits of anatomy that I can’t identify. The longer I look, the more I begin noticing the tarnished armor amongst the bones. A crescent moon is stamped onto a metal shield. Another helmet bears the same mark.

Night soldiers.

Shit.

“There you are.”

My head snaps up as Galleghar steps out from the darkness. He’s bloody and his clothes in tatters. All across his skin are bite marks and, in some areas, missing flesh. It’s healing over, but each wound is a grim reminder of what might’ve happened to me if I didn’t have my glamour to fend off all the fae living in the Pit.

I glance back down at the bones.

“Why are there Night soldiers down here?” I ask.

Galleghar kicks a bone uselessly aside.

“Long ago, I invaded the Kingdom of Death and Deep Earth.”

Horror dawns on me. All of these bones, they belonged to fairies Galleghar had brought down here—brought down here to die.

“Illuminate this place,” I command him.

Galleghar stares at me for several seconds. Then, extending his hand, a ball of light forms. As I watch, it grows bigger and brighter before lifting off of the fallen king’s palm and floating into the air above us.

Now I get a good look at our surroundings. As far as the eye can see, the ground is an ocean of bones. There must be … thousands of bodies.

“Why?” I ask, my eyes searching the remains.

“The Thief needed a realm to rule.”

I glance sharply at Galleghar. “What do you mean the Thief needed a realm to rule?”

Des’s father gives me a cryptic smile. “He was an invader.”

My eyes sweep over the graveyard. “And you helped him.”

Galleghar brought an army here to take over a kingdom. He allowed these soldiers to die, all so that he could insert the Thief onto a stolen throne.

Jesus.

Someone else used to rule this place. Someone presumably who now is under the rule of the Thief. I shiver to think what the afterlife must be like for them.

“I did.”

Galleghar moves away from me, the bones of his former soldiers crunching under his feet. He pays them no attention. And why should he? In his mind, fairies are only as good as their use.

“This way,” he says over his shoulder. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

We stride on, wading through the frightening graveyard. Among the dead soldiers are skeletons of monsters who lived and died in this place. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen something like this—or that I ever will again.

Galleghar’s earlier light bobs along above us, illuminating a massive stone archway ahead. On our side of it lay the bones of the dead, on the other side, thick, curling smoke obscures our view.

The fallen king passes under that archway without a backward glance, the smoke stirring as it swallows him up.

I hesitate.

I have no game plan, no grand knowledge that could be the Thief of Souls’ undoing. All I have is determination and a few weapons.

I hope that’s good enough.

Taking a deep breath, I pass under the archway and officially enter the Kingdom of Death and Deep Earth.