Delilah gazed up at Solla and Lunos from the walkway in their harbor in Revue Palace. She smiled, because they were so beautiful, so warm, and meant so much to her.
But she didn’t smile easily. Her heart was unsteady.
I let Caleb and the others go. I know it was the best choice, I know the Lingering Will could follow us there and I can’t let it endanger Grimoire. But… they haven’t seen the Darkness in the well beneath the city. They have no idea what they’re facing.
I still haven’t seen Darkness like that anywhere else.
“Hey,” Alice said, placing a hand on Delilah’s shoulder. Delilah turned her head in that direction, and her cheek met Alice’s outstretched index finger. Alice grinned, chuckling mischievously, and Delilah couldn’t help emitting a tiny giggle. “That’s more like it. Don’t be so glum. The others’ll be here soon, and they need to see their fearless leader looking properly fearless, you know?”
“Yeah,” Delilah said. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Thanks.”
“Besides, what’s there to worry about?” Alice stepped back, spreading her arms in a wide, hopeful gesture, her white eyes shining bright and clear. It worked really well with her new outfit, red and blue and vibrant with color compared to her old black-and-white ensemble. The red shoulder cape snapped out with her gesture, giving her the appearance of a dashing heroic knight, minus the shining armor. “Grimoire’s got the greatest defenders it can have, right? They’ve still got the Grimoire Guard from that whole fiasco with Blaise, you know.”
“Yeah,” Delilah said. She still wasn’t happy about leaving them, and she worried about her city, but… she turned, looking up at Solla and Lunos. “I know. Our mission is the most important one there is. If we fail at this, if we can’t turn the Key of the World in time… then it doesn’t matter what they do in Grimoire. Everything will fall under the Endless Night.” Her hand went to her hair, a habit she’d picked up ever since her drastic new haircut. She was still getting used to this new shorter-than-shoulder-length asymmetrical style, even though it wasn’t entirely “new” anymore. Longest on the left and swept that direction, she’d cut it very short on the right, leaving one of her ears exposed at all times, and so she’d started wearing an earring in that ear regularly. It was small and simple, a tiny white cat-shaped sort of pin, but it felt like such a significant addition to her. She’d rarely worn earrings before, or jewelry in general. It always felt like something for women, not girls, at least to her. Wearing just a single, tiny earring made her feel, like with her new haircut… just a little more grown-up.
“Are we all prepared?” came the warm, wise tones of Marcus. Delilah turned, smiling as she saw the rest of her team arrive: Marcus, Isabelle, Maribelle, and their newest addition, Terevalde. Sarabelle, who had joined them for a while, had elected to remain at the Library of Solitude and care for her mother, after the wounds Lady Kodoka had sustained in her battle with Sal.
“Yes,” Delilah said. She formed a Mobility disc platform, and all except Alice stepped aboard. Alice simply jumped up onto Solla’s back ahead of them, her strength and agility still astounding Delilah after all the time they’d spent together. Delilah floated her disc platform up, and the rest of them stepped off onto Solla’s back. She and Alice shared a look, and then Alice held up her right hand, clenched in a fist, the black-and-white gemstone bracelet displayed prominently on her wrist. Delilah smiled and raised her left hand, her own bracelet with gemstones of five colors — orange, green, purple, blue, and white — revealed as her sleeve slid down her forearm. The girls bumped their fists together sideways, so that their bracelets also clinked against each other.
They were ready.
Kneeling down and pressing her palms against Solla’s soft, warm skin, Delilah spoke to her without words. Solla responded with a song, a joyful song. She was ready, too, and Lunos beside her responded in kind.
Together, the two Travelers began to soar, leaving behind Revue Palace for the wild, starry wonder of space, and the space between Locations of the Enchanted Dominion. A protective dome enveloped Delilah and her team, keeping them safe and secure aboard Solla. They could sit or walk around, unaffected by the incredible speed at which they traveled.
“It’s time to go to the Corridors of Memory,” Delilah said, looking up at Terevalde.
“Yes,” Terevalde, said, one hand lightly toying with the unused monocle that dangle from his waistcoat. “And through it, to the Lost Bell. There we can properly investigate the two different rings and their purposes, and determine which course to take.”
“If the Key’s pedestals are sealed, we just ring it once,” Isabelle said, nodding. “But we don’t know what it means to ring it twice. So we want to know that before we ring it at all, right?”
“That’s right,” Maribelle said. “It wouldn’t do to proceed down one course of action without knowing where the other might lead. We must know as much as possible to make the best decision.”
“If the Key’s pedestals weren’t sealed, would that mean that we wouldn’t need to ring the Lost Bell at all?” Alice asked.
“No,” Delilah said. “In the Book of the Key, it says ‘if seals are twined,’ or sealed, ring once, but ‘if not,’ we should ring twice. We don’t understand what the double-ring does, but if the pedestals aren’t sealed, we need to ring it twice.”
“That is what we have been told,” Terevalde said. “Though I still do not understand. If the pedestals are not sealed, you should be able to reach the Keys and turn them all as one without another Bell. And I do not understand the part about the ‘lightbaring peal,’ nor about what time it means when it says ‘know the time is nigh.’ If the pedestals are not sealed, I do not think we should recklessly ring the Lost Bell twice. Not until we know what its true purpose is.”
“But before all that, we gotta go through the Corridors of Memory,” Alice said, eyeing Terevalde. “You’ve been there and back. What’s it like?”
“It changes depending on who walks the Corridors,” Terevalde said, his tone wistful and distant. “For myself, the Author, and Gio… it showed us our pasts, our lives. It does so to all who pass through. And it will hone in on the memories and moments that mean the most to each of us, emphasizing their importance. As the Book says, we will need to ‘stand forth,’ or, as Marcus put it, stride forth with determined purpose. The Corridors are, in essence, a test. Will you be caught up in your past, in the moments that have defined who you are today? Or can you accept their impact on your life while still striding forward to what you seek?”
“Sounds easy enough to me,” Alice said, hands clasped behind her head, smiling as she gazed out at the whirl of color, light, and space. “I’m always moving forward.”
She said that, but Delilah didn’t think it would be so easy.
Alice, Marcus, Isabelle, Maribelle, Terevalde… they’ve all faced great pains in their past. And Terevalde has endured terrible pains since he walked the Corridors, so he has a whole new set of memories to test and try him.
And I… well, there are things that would be difficult for me to relive, too. But I don’t have anything on the same level of the hardships the rest of them have seen. So that means…
Delilah stood tall as the time came to complete their flight. She reached into her shirt and pulled out the Key on its silver chain.
…it’s up to me to lead the way. To make sure no one gets lost, and no one gets left behind.
A tear split space open, forming a portal that Solla and Lunos flew through, into a spiraling kaleidoscope of blue and silver sheens. At the end of it, far off, was a great silver door, closed and locked. Delilah lifted the Key, and a beam of white light shot from it, lancing forward to the silver door’s keyhole. A click sounded, the door opened, and Solla and Lunos flew through…
And emerged into an alien world.
The sky was a twilit dome, the horizon in all directions glimmering with pale pink and blue, morphing into deeper blues and purples towards the center of the sky. Tiny pinpricks of silver light twinkled here and there like stars, each so far apart — lonely, Delilah thought as she gazed at them.
The landscape below was isolated, a singular island surrounded by a dark, endless ocean. On that island was only one great, yawning cavern, its entrance a rocky half-domed arch, like the shell of some gigantic crab or beetle. Mist swirled around the vast, open entrance, obscuring what lay within. The rest of the island was a sloping hill of black sand that led up to the rocky entrance to the cavern.
But that was all. The cavern was huge, particularly vertically, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hundred yards deep. Unless it went underground, they wouldn’t have far to go, or…
Of course. Magic.
That got Delilah excited, even though her destination seemed rather foreboding.
They landed on the wide rise towards the yawning entrance of the Corridors of Memory, and Delilah thanked Solla and Lunos before disembarking with her team. The ground was soft, somewhat crumbly, like the texture of wet sand but without actually being wet. Sloping upward made it hard for any of them to walk quickly up to the entrance. They took their time, Isabelle surprisingly forgoing her usual seat atop Maribelle’s shoulders and instead trying to stay at the front of the group with Alice, struggling along beside her. Alice and Marcus had the easiest time of it, but while Alice forged ahead excitedly, Marcus stayed with Terevalde and Delilah, seeing that they made it safely up the slope.
Soon they all stood on a thin, slate-like panel of black stone before the mist-filled maw of the Corridors of Memory. Warm, sweet-smelling air wafted out, tickling Delilah’s nose. There was something immediately nostalgic about it, inviting, and after a moment she shook her head, focusing on the present.
“To finde the wayfaerer’s rooste in forgotten rieliving days, stand forth.”
Stand forth. Stride forth with purpose.
The only way to get where we want to go is to focus on what we want, what we’re here for. Determination, a clear focus on our goals.
The Lost Bell. The Key of the World. To stop the Endless Night.
Delilah noticed, suddenly, that everyone was looking at her. Why that kind of attention kept surprising her, she didn’t know. She was the Keybearer, the leader here, and…
I still can’t quite grasp that.
But I’ll do my very best.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice flat and dull in the strange air before the Corridors of Memory. “Everyone, stay close to each other. Keep aware of each other, and don’t wander off.” She reached out and took Alice’s hand in hers, smiling reassuringly at her. Alice grinned right back, her white eyes flicking to black and back to white.
In they went, all of them holding hands. Mist swirled around them, like a ghostly embrace, caressing them with faint warmth, swirling in what seemed like intentional curls, wrapping around arms and legs, drawing them in.
The entrance was already a distant memory. All was lost in the mists. Step by step along flat, solid stone, Delilah led the way, wishing she could see where she was going.
But maybe that’s the trick. It’s not about what we can see. This place will show us the past, so we need to stay focused on what we want — even when we can’t see it.
Still… this place feels so strange. There’s this nostalgic, inviting feeling, but also…
It feels like we’ve entered the belly of the beast.
She couldn’t see any path, any landmarks, any indication of where to go. As she walked in the lead, holding Alice’s hand with her left and Isabelle’s hand with her right, she couldn’t even be sure that she was still going the same direction as she’d started. The mist was pervasive, so thick it obscured all vision, all clarity.
“It’s so cold,” Isabelle said, shivering.
Delilah stared at the little girl in astonishment. Cold? It was so warm, Delilah wanted to take off her light jacket.
“No, it’s warm,” Alice said. “Kinda nice, actually.”
“It feels quite cold to me,” Terevalde said. “And there’s a strange scent in the air.”
“Right, like —” Delilah started.
“Like sulfur,” Terevalde said, bringing Delilah up short. She thought the air smelled sweet, nostalgic. Sulfur? She didn’t smell anything so acrid.
“Ah, I think I see,” Marcus said. Beside him, Maribelle nodded.
“See what?” Alice asked, her black eyes peering around through the mist. “You can’t see anything in this fog.”
“What we feel and smell comes from within ourselves,” Maribelle said. “Though I don’t know exactly what each individual experience means, not yet. Something from each of our memories is already playing on us, modifying temperature and scent towards… well. I ‘m not sure. Perhaps to repel us, perhaps to invite us. To put us off-guard, or to draw us in.”
“So the air isn’t actually warm?” Alice asked.
“You mean cold,” Isabelle said, shivering again. Delilah almost took off her hooded sweatshirt-jacket then and gave it to Isabelle, but it was far too long for the girl and would have dragged along the ground behind her. She didn’t want Isabelle tripping on it.
“Fascinating,” Terevalde said. “Yes, perhaps that is what is happening.”
“You’ve been here before, shouldn’t you know?” Alice asked with a slight frown.
“Gio, the Author, and myself all felt and smelled the same things,” Terevalde said. “There wasn’t this kind of disparity when we came through.”
“Let’s just stay focused,” Delilah said. “We each feel and smell different things. This is just the start.”
“You and I don’t feel and smell different stuff,” Alice said, fixing Delilah with a white-eyed stare. “Right? It’s warm, and the air smells sweet. Like cake, or… something. I dunno I’m not used to sweets.”
Delilah smiled. “Right,” she said. “It’s the same for me. But it’s not the same for everyone.”
“Yeah, well, can’t beat sisters,” Alice said with a smug smirk.
“Mari, it’s cold for you, too, right?” Isabelle asked, looking pleadingly at Maribelle, who held her other hand. “And it smells like shampoo.”
“Shampoo?” Alice asked, incredulous. When Maribelle agreed with Isabelle, Alice made a face. “Cold and shampoo. Awful combination.”
“Cold baths are good for you sometimes!” Isabelle said, glaring at Alice. Try as she might, though, she kept on shivering.
“Okay, okay, let’s stay focused,” Delilah said, halting whatever retort Alice had prepared. “Come on. Everyone together, stay alert, let’s be ready for whatever this place throws at us.”
Just as she said that, a voice spoke in the distance. It was faint, coming ghostlike through the mist, but Delilah could just barely make out the words: “I’ve seen worse.”
“What’s that?” Isabelle asked, perking up. But Delilah’s steps slowed. The voice was familiar, the words familiar, that tone, like a memory calling out to her, coming back to her…
“I’ve done worse,” the voice said, in a whisper and yet louder this time, closer. Delilah and Alice both came to a stop, and the others followed suit. Slowly, gently, the fog lowered, a section of it vanishing through the stone floor like a ghost. Before them was an isolated vision from the past, a spotlight beaming down on it from the unseen ceiling, casting harsh shadows around the grim scene.
For it was a grim scene, a grim reminder of the most horrifying thing Delilah had ever seen. It was the Abyssal Sanctuary, the first of the Lost Bastions Marcus had taken her and Alice to for their training. It was where they’d run into Sen and Valgwyn, and gained the first clues that eventually led them to Revue Palace.
But the worst part of that memory was their entrance, what they saw right inside the main hall. Death. Death and blood and violence, the raw aftermath of a terrible massacre. The Paladins and Sub-Paladins of the Sanctuary had all been cut down defending their Bastion.
It was the first time Delilah had ever seen death. There was so much blood, and worse, and that smell in the air… what had once been sweet turned sickening, and Delilah’s stomach churned.
There, on the far side of the massacre, was the Alice of the past, inspecting the bodies. And she’d said, “I’ve seen worse.” Delilah remembered that, clear as day. But her next three words had been whispered, so Delilah hadn’t heard them at the time…
But now she did. Now she knew what Alice had said: “I’ve done worse.”
Alice gripped Delilah’s hand a little tighter, but said nothing. Maribelle covered Isabelle’s eyes so she didn’t have to see the terrible scene.
For a moment, they stood there, watching.
And then Delilah started forward, straight towards the memory. Alice was the next to move, and one by one, hand-in-hand, they all walked to — and then through — the scene. Delilah didn’t let her eyes linger. She fixed her gaze forward.
Stand forth.
Through the scene and out the other side. They continued through the mists.
It’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. But if you think reminding me of it can break me — or that letting me know what Alice said, reminding me of her own wicked past can break me — you’ve got another thing coming.
It’s because of being there, at that time, for that terrible tragedy, that I was able to get on the trail of Sen and Valgwyn. Otherwise, I would never have gone to Revue Palace, saved Revue, and become its Paladin with Alice.
And… seeing something so horrible, so awful… I’ll never be desensitized to it. But I also don’t have to let such terrible things make me hesitate. Evil is awful and horrible and ugly, but I need to know that, to see it for what it is, so I know what I’m fighting against. And what I’m fighting for. To never let such a tragedy occur, ever again.
My memories won’t break me. They won’t tear me down. What I’ve been through… it’s all helped me become who I am now, and who I’m still becoming.
A flash of memories, so quick each was just an eyeblink, shot through the air in front of them. There was Delilah at the battle of the Dream Forge, defending Shana and the Princesses alongside Chelsea, Lorelei, and Gwen. There was Delilah’s first, chilling encounter with Duo. There was Delilah on the Nightmare Road, failing after Shana had graciously invited her to join the Dawn Riders, leaving them all behind as her fears overtook her.
I know. I know I’ve failed, and struggled, and powerful villains have nearly broken me down.
But they didn’t win. I’m still here, and I’m not giving up on myself, or what I’ve chosen to do.
And the memories were gone. The air returned to its warmth, its sweet smell, and the mist swirled back around them, obscuring everything from view.
“You good?” Alice asked in a soft whisper.
Delilah nodded, a smile creasing her lips. “Yeah. I’m good.”
They walked on together through the mists for a while, no new memories coming to test them. But Delilah felt a shift in the air, or… not the air. It wasn’t something she could sense physically, not see or hear or smell or taste or physically feel, but something she felt with her heart.
Something had changed. She wouldn’t face any of her memories again.
I passed the test? So quickly. Have I… have I really come so far?
She was caught between wanting to smile so big, so proudly and happily, and wanting to hide under her hood, embarrassed. It was always, always, no matter how much time passed, so difficult to accept her own accomplishments. To be proud of her Felines, of her siblings, of her friends? Easy, so easy.
But to be proud of herself? That was… complicated. Her thoughts went back to shadowland, to being plunged into that darkness during the Revue of the Night, where she’d come face-to-face with her other. She’d seen the darkness within herself.
Pride was a complicated, frightening thing.
A few moments later, a new voice spoke from a distance. No, not a voice. Multiple voices. From in front of them, and behind, from the left and the right. The mist lowered, like it had before, but in thin vertical slices, leaving still so much obscured. Ahead there were visions, visions of the grand underwater city that had once been Marcus’ home, the city of Marcus’ people, in all its splendor, not the ruin that it now was and had so long been. And around them were visions of the Bastion on the Moon, and of a strange empty white void in which stood Isabelle, and of Isabelle walking with Maribelle and Lady Kodoka, only to lose sight of both of them and get lost, alone. All around them, on all sides, were visions of Marcus and Isabelle, pulled from their memories.
“Oh!” Isabelle said, pointing at the scene with her alone in the white void. “It’s the nothing place!” She said it with curiosity, not a hint of worry or fear.
“The place you were in before Caleb met you?” Delilah asked.
“Yeah!” Isabelle said. “That’s what it was like. Nothing there at all. I still don’t get what that place was. I kept going back there when it wasn’t Hollow Hour, until we all got sent to Hollow Island.”
“What about you, gramps?” Alice asked. “Anything weird or worrying?”
“Not at all,” Marcus said, though he had a slightly wistful, distant tone. “Just memories. Of what was. Of what I’ve lost. But I have gained much since then.” He smiled. “And I am glad that the history of my people is beginning to resurface, to be learned by the people of Grimoire.”
“Belle-Belle, are you okay?” Maribelle asked.
“Yup,” Isabelle said with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s weird seeing the past like an outsider, like I’m the audience to my own memories. But it doesn’t bother me. That’s all over, and now I’m with all of you! I’m really happy being where I am right now.”
Slowly, the mist reformed, the scenes vanished. The team continued on through the Corridors of Memory.
“This is really easy so far,” Alice said. “I thought our memories were supposed to weigh us down or give us problems, you know?”
“It depends on the person, and the memories,” Terevalde said. “The Corridors test all. For some, the test is easy. The past holds no sway over them, or they have properly accepted its place in their life without desiring to return to it. For each, the test is different.”
“So I guess that just leaves us three,” Alice said, nodding to Maribelle and Terevalde. “Terry, you’ve been through here before, so it should be easy for you.”
“Terry?” Isabelle asked, incredulous. Slowly, she shook her head. “You have to stop shortening people’s names without their permission. It’s really rude! Especially for such a unique, dignified name.”
“You don’t mind, do you, Terry?” Alice asked with a grin.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Terevalde said, rather calmly, with no rebuke in his eyes or voice. “If it is important to you to shorten my name, I can accept that. But I prefer my proper name.”
“But you shorten Gio’s name, right?” Alice asked.
“That was his preference,” Terevalde said. “I am fond of my name, and prefer not to have it shortened.”
Isabelle smiled rather smugly at Alice, who stuck out her tongue at her. But she then bobbed her head from side to side, considering it, then nodded. “Okay, then. Terevalde. I can work with that.”
“I appreciate it,” Terevalde said.
Delilah couldn’t help a little giggle at the exchange. They were in a place that had been spoken of with gravity, a serious test that they needed to be prepared for. And yet… they were having fun. Delilah had passed her test, and Marcus and Isabelle had gotten through with ease as well.
Each of us had a different reason, too. For me, my past is important and has shaped me. For Marcus, it’s like he embraces it as a part of him, but doesn’t long to go back to it even though he’s lost so much. For Isabelle, she’s just… so innocent. So enthusiastic. Nothing about her past gets her down, even though she’s been through so much, and lost so much.
But there was a tiny knot of dread forming in Delilah’s stomach. Pieces were falling into place now that three of them had passed the test. And she wondered if the order was intentional, if the three that remained were saved for last on purpose.
Start with us, end with them. We’re a team, a unit. We could be tested each individually, or all as a group, but that hasn’t happened. It was me — the leader — first. Alone. And then Marcus and Isabelle, at once.
If this place can see into and pull from our memories, even bring them to life in more detail than we saw them back then… it knows us. It knows us to the core, it sees every single part of us.
It knows exactly what it’s doing, doesn’t it? Which means…
“What’s up?” Alice asked. Delilah hadn’t realized she’d given Alice’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Just happy to have you here,” Delilah said with a smile. “Let’s get through this together.”
“Of course,” Alice said, grinning.
And then, a sound through the mist, distant, faint, so Delilah didn’t recognize what it was at first.
But Alice must have. Because as soon as it sounded, she came to a stop, and the others stopped with her.
One. Two. Three. The sounds came sharp, a single pulse of sound, spaced out one from the next. Each one grew closer, more distinct, until…
Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip!
Delilah’s eyes widened. Scissors. It was the sound of scissors cutting away. And underneath the steady snip, snip, snip was soft, childish laughter.
Slowly, the mists lowered. And before them was a scene from Alice’s past. Immediately, Maribelle covered Isabelle’s eyes.
There was Alice, perhaps five years old, sitting in her bedroom with a pair of silver scissors in hand. All around her was strewn stuffing and torn cloth, severed limbs and heads with gouged out eyes from dolls and stuffed animals. Teddy bears, stuffed cats and dogs, as well as cloth dolls with pretty princess dresses and tiaras. At the window chirped a bird, fluttering its wings slightly. It cocked its head this way and that, as if it was watching Alice.
Child-Alice’s black eyes flashed with joy, her mouth spread in a wide grin, as she sliced away at her assortment of teddies and dolls. Toys are such fun! It was Alice’s voice, child-Alice’s voice, but coming from her mind, not spoken, yet Delilah and the others could hear. Toys are wonderful! I love all that I can do to toys! You can cut them up and cut them up and cut them up and — She suddenly stopped, her scissors poised to cut out a red-haired princess doll’s eye. She looked up, her eyes full of an idea, a wicked idea. At the window, the bird chirped again, then pecked twice against the window, almost like it was knocking on the glass.
“What if I could make animals into toys?” she asked aloud. She whipped around, staring with a wide smile at the bird at the window. She tossed aside the doll she had in her lap and walked with her scissors to the window, flinging it open. Her hand went out through the open window in a flash, grabbed the bird before it could fly away. It squirmed in her grip, chirped and struggled, even tore at Alice’s hand with its tiny beak and claws. Blood trickled out from wounds, dripping onto the window sill.
“You’re a naughty, naughty birdy,” Alice said, not flinching at all at the fresh wounds. She raised her scissors, her smile widening. “Let’s see what happens when I make you into a toy.”
Snip!
Isabelle had her eyes squeezed shut behind Maribelle’s hand, but even she jumped at the sudden slice of the scissors, the sudden cutting off of the bird’s sounds. Maribelle looked away, Terevalde and Marcus bowed their heads.
Delilah and Alice were the only ones who kept watching. Alice gripped Delilah’s hand tight, so tight that it hurt, but Delilah didn’t squirm or struggle. She could feel the tension, the mingled fear, anger, and heartache flooding through her.
She wouldn’t let her face it alone.
Snip! Snip! Snip!
The scene grew more grim, more horrifying, but neither Alice nor Delilah looked away. It was quite some time before child-Alice tossed away what remained of the bird, holding up her bloody hands and gazing excitedly at them. “Oh, this is so much more fun than dolls,” she said.
Slowly, so slowly, an idea seemed to form. Blood-soaked child-Alice slowly turned her head towards the door of her bedroom. Faintly, from outside that door, could be heard shouting, and hard thuds and slaps.
“If a tiny birdy is this fun, what fun would they be?” child-Alice asked in a delighted whisper. “They’re terrible. They’re awful. They make Addie hurt so much. They’re no good for anything… except to be toys. To make them toys… that’s perfect!” She spun in a circle, the bloody hem of her dress twirling around her feet. “Yes. And it takes care of Addie, too. She’ll be grateful. She might even play with me!” With a terrifying grin, Alice charged out from her room, and the scene vanished.
The mists didn’t reform, though. The open space remained empty for a moment. A sudden snip! made Alice and Delilah both jump. A second snip! Two screams, cut swiftly short. A child, laughing.
The empty space remained. A voice spoke through the emptiness: “Dark Eater,” it said, in a dark, wicked whisper.
It was Alice’s voice, barely recognizable.
Inky tendrils of darkness began to rise up from the stone of the empty space. Tiny, grasping hands of darkness, slowly growing, melding with each other. “Darkness my guide. Darkness my shelter. Darkness that fills. Darkness that satisfies. Darkness that —”
“Stop,” Alice said, glaring at the emptiness. “So I’m the Dark Eater. I…” But she faltered, and bowed her head. Slowly, timidly, she looked over her shoulder at Marcus. “How do you do it, gramps? You’re not… you haven’t… you’ve always been good. What’s someone with such a pitch-black past like me supposed to do?” Before Marcus answered, she turned to Isabelle. “You lost family, but I killed my parents myself. The only family I’ve lost, I took with my own hands. You’re innocent, so it’s easy for you, but me…? I…”
“It’s a part of you,” Delilah said softly, giving Alice’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But it isn’t who you are now. It’s… hard. To be afraid of yourself.”
“What do you know about it?” Alice asked, her voice suddenly sharp, her black eyes fixing Delilah with a bitter glare.
Delilah didn’t look away, but met that bitter gaze steadily, unwavering. “I like to be alone,” she said. “I try to do everything myself. But I’m always scared, scared that I’m not good enough, scared that I’ll never be good enough. You saw my other in the shadowlands, you saw the arrogance I try so hard not to give into. I’m afraid I’ll never be good enough, but I’m also so arrogant that I think I can do everything myself, that I look down on everyone else. If I’m not careful. We all… have darkness inside of us. It’s different for all of us. No one has it the same. I know I don’t know exactly what it’s like for you, but…” She squeezed Alice’s hand gently. “We went into shadowlands together. We saw each other’s evil, and we didn’t let that pull us apart. I’m your big sister.” Her heart suddenly swelled with pride at that declaration, and she smiled. “I’m your big sister. So no matter what you’ve got going on, I’m here for you. I love you, and I’m not letting go. And I’m not letting you fail this test, either.”
Alice snorted, rolled her eyes. “How are you gonna manage that, huh? It’s my past I’ve gotta deal with, and I can’t. I’m just a monster.”
“You’re not!” Delilah said, so fiercely and intensely that Alice was taken aback, her black eyes flicking to white, back to black, then to white again. “You are not a monster. You’ve done monstrous things, but you’ve also done wonderful things. You and I restored Revue Palace. Together. You’re the one who’s faced down Sen multiple times, who nearly defeated Kaohlad single-handedly, who’s fought the Sons of Night so fiercely over and over again. You were what you were, but when we met on top of the White Whale, before we knew her name, you started to change. You made certain choices before. And you’ve made very different choices since then. And besides, the past can’t hold you back, it’ll never hold you back, not ever.”
“Why not?” Alice asked in a small voice. She’d been drawn in little by little by Delilah’s every word, and now was held captivated, waiting almost breathless for Delilah to speak the truth that would set her free.
Delilah smiled, a smile of fierce, protective love. “Because I won’t let it have you,” she said. “You’re my little sister now, you know?” Alice chuckled just a little bit at Delilah’s use of her regular phrase-ender. “You’re mine, and that means no one else can have you. So there.”
Alice’s chuckle turned into sudden, boisterous laughter. “What the heck?” she asked. “That’s so stupid! You…” She laughed, and laughed, and it took her a while to find words again. “You can’t keep me all to yourself.”
Delilah gazed at Alice so innocently. “Why not?” she asked.
Alice burst out laughing again. “Because, dummy! What about Addie, and Belle-Belle, and, like… other people who… maybe, kinda, sorta, want me, too?” She took a step back, ducked her gaze, but Delilah pulled her back. Alice was a few years younger than Delilah, not even a teenager yet, but they were the same height, met each other’s eyes at the same level.
“I’m willing to share,” Delilah said, smiling.
Alice shook her head. “And what makes this test so easy for you, huh?”
“The past isn’t the present,” Delilah said. “I’ve been hurt, and I’ve been scared, and I’ve let people down. I’ve let myself down. I think… I think that hurts me the most. But just because it hurts doesn’t mean it isn’t valuable. I can learn from it, and I have. Just like you, I’m not who I was in the past. It’s still a part of me, but it isn’t all of me.”
“But you didn’t —”
“I didn’t do what you did, what you’ve done. I haven’t been you. But I’ve made bad choices and hurt people, too. I’ve struggled with who I am, with who I’m meant to be, with who I want to be, too. Just because the details aren’t the same doesn’t mean we can’t find some common ground. Just because I haven’t walked in your shoes doesn’t mean I can’t understand you, or that I can’t feel the weight of your past just as much as you do. Your past is really, really heavy. But here’s the nice thing about it.” Delilah held up Alice’s hands, holding both of them, smiling at Alice. “It’s not as heavy when someone else carries it with you.”
“You… you’ll carry all of that?” Alice asked, her white eyes earnest, hopeful, but not daring to believe.
“I’m your big sister,” Delilah said, beaming. “And I love you. So of course I will. Always.”
Alice bowed her head, a small smile playing across her lips. She chuckled, squeezed Delilah’s hands once, then let one go so that Delilah could hold Isabelle’s hand again. “All right, then,” she said. “If you say so. But just remember, I’m counting on you, you know?”
Delilah laughed. “That’s exactly what Addie said to Caleb when he first found her,” she said.
“She did, huh?” Alice asked, turning towards the mist. The dark tendrils were gone, and the empty space filled back in with fog. “Well. I guess sisters can’t help but be alike, sometimes.”
“I guess not,” Delilah agreed.
After a moment, it was Alice who started forward, leading them on to whatever might come next. “You know,” Alice said after a while, “you’re usually really quiet, but when you’ve got something you care about, you turn into a heck of a chatterbox, don’t you?”
“Sometimes I’ve got a lot to say,” Delilah said, though being called out like that did leave her a bit embarrassed. She resisted the urge to draw up her hood. Instead, she smiled, striding forward, her eyes fixed ahead.
After a while, they stopped once more, as a voice spoke out of the mists. It was a chilling whisper, cold and malicious, and Delilah’s blood turned to ice.
Dullan. She’d recognize his cold, whispered voice anywhere. He spoke softly, and yet with such power of wickedness and cruelty. “You will pay the price,” his voice said from the distance. “Never think you can escape it.”
“Say what you will,” Maribelle said, firmly, defiantly. “You are but words. A memory, nothing more. I know you aren’t here. If you’re determined to exact your price, come and claim it.”
“I’m not here?” asked Dullan, and his voice came so close that Delilah spun around, beginning to call on her Felines to come forth. But there was no one there.
Even so, Maribelle’s eyes were wide. She stared straight ahead, rigid and alert and afraid.
“Mari,” Isabelle said, tugging on Maribelle’s hand. “Come on. It’s just a voice, he can’t mess with you. Don’t worry about whatever he says.”
“Little Princess, should you really speak of things you don’t understand?” Dullan’s voice asked.
And then they were all on alert. But before anyone could draw on their magic, before Summons could be Summoned, Marcus tapped his staff on the ground. Three of the ring-shaped bells that hung from the staff’s circular top chimed, a pure and bright three-part chord. Nothing changed, nothing perceptible, and yet Delilah felt her heart lighten, felt her fears wash away.
“He is not here,” Marcus said. “Though it certainly seemed so, even to me. Maribelle, be wary. Whatever this is, it is different from the tests the rest of us faced.”
Maribelle nodded, taking a step forward. “Dullan!” she said, loud and clear, her fierce defiance returning. “I recognize the price you asked of me as null and void! If you wish to challenge my claim, then come and do so in person, not through my memories!” In a softer, but no less firm voice, she continued, “Perhaps I do fear you. But I will not be ruled by fear. And I will not hold those I love back from this most important mission.” She started forward, not waiting for a reply. “Let us continue.”
“You sure you’re okay, Mari?” Isabelle said as they walked on.
“Yes, Belle-Belle, thank you,” Maribelle said, smiling. “Just as Delilah said, the past is not the present. And the past does not rule me.”
“Nobody and nothing rules a princess,” Alice said with a grin. “Right?”
“Right!” Isabelle said, matching her grin.
It should have been unsettling, walking through a fog so thick that nothing, not even the ground beneath their feet, could be seen. A fog out of which voices from the past came to test and try them.
But there was light in each of them, a light that spread, that bound them, that strengthened them. When Terevalde’s test came, they’d be ready to help him in any way he needed it.
After time immeasurable, unclear and uncertain, Delilah thought she could see a shape through the fog. A great shadow, like a tower or great manor in the distance. With every step, she was more sure she saw it, and soon the others confirmed what she saw.
“Something’s coming up!” Alice said. “Is it one of your memories, Terevalde?”
“No,” Terevalde said, sounding rather perplexed. “It… is the Wayfarer’s Roost.”
“We’re already there?” Isabelle asked. “Oh, we’ve done so well! Good job, everyone!”
“So I guess your test’ll come after the checkpoint, huh?” Alice asked.
“No,” Terevalde said, gazing ahead with concern and uncertainty. “There is no more testing beyond the Roost. From there descends the road to the city of the Lost Bell. If we reach the Wayfarer’s Roost, we have passed our tests.”
“But then why weren’t you tested?” Maribelle asked.
“I do not know,” Terevalde answered, and there was a ring of worry in his voice.
Instead of the fog parting, the six of them emerged from the fog onto a wide plateau, half-covered by a tall, sloping, cavernous roof, like half of a dome. It somewhat reminded Delilah of the entrance to the Corridors of Memory, and then she realized that this must be the exit.
They’d reached the Wayfarer’s Roost.
The Roost itself was a pagoda, five stories tall with sprawling verandas at each level. At each roof’s four corners were golden statues of birds nesting, protecting their young, and sleeping. Cobbled-stone pathways and courtyards fed into and bordered various flower gardens, small ponds, and gently bubbling fountains. A shishi-odoshi, a bamboo tube filled with water from a fountain that emptied itself at regular intervals, sounded, its wooden knock echoing across the plateau, a sharp contrast from the deadened sound of the entrance to the Corridors of Memory.
Beyond the plateau, the landscape sloped gently downward, following a white stone road. Overhead, beyond the half-dome ceiling, the same twilit sky of the entrance shone, comforting and calm.
It was beautiful and inviting, a tranquil, calming place. But there was a sense of loss and pain here, too. Delilah got the distinct sense that this place should have more people, that it should be more lively. There should be conversation, people sitting on the scattered benches, people walking amongst the gardens. From within the tower itself should come the sounds of cooking food, and washing dishes, and games being played.
But there was none of that. The place was quiet save for the sounds of water, the soft breeze, and the occasional knock of the shishi-odoshi. And while it was beautiful, there was in the visible that same sense of loss. The cobbled stone of the pathways had loose stones here and there, cracks now and then, and occasional undergrowth poking up through the gaps in the stone. The tower, once a vibrant red with golden roofing, now was more of a subdued, worn burgundy, its golden roof tiles and the nesting bird statues devoid of their old sheen. Floorboards were slightly warped now and then, a stain of mold could be seen on a pillar, and a crack in one of the fountains kept it from bubbling up in a consistent pattern.
In every sight and sound, she could feel the history, the change… and the pain.
“We really made it,” Isabelle said, breathing a sigh of relief and hustling over to a bench. She hopped on top of it, facing the pond, kicking her feet playfully. “I was honestly a little bit nervous there towards the end.”
“Nothing to it,” Alice said with a grin. She let go of Delilah’s hand and reached up, stretching both arms overhead and arching her back like a cat.
Maribelle strode over to Isabelle. Marcus walked forward, slowly, taking in the scenery.
It was so peaceful.
…For a moment.
Delilah didn’t know what it was. Maybe she’d never really relaxed, had remained alert and on-edge the entire time. She was wary, and perhaps that wariness was what left her ready. Because suddenly, the peace was pierced by a cry from Terevalde. Delilah turned to see the fog reaching out, grabbing hold of Terevalde, pulling him back into the mists. Maribelle started to race towards him, as did Marcus.
But they were too far away. It all happened way too fast.
Delilah was right there, hadn’t moved from her spot right at the edge of the mists. All she had to take was one step, to reach out, and she had hold of Terevalde’s arm. “Hang on!” she cried.
But she couldn’t haul him back out of the fog. Even when Alice, who had stayed right beside her, joined to help, the two of them couldn’t break Terevalde free.
Before anyone else reached them, the trio were sucked into the mists, pulled in harshly, strongly, not into the peace of the mists from before, but into a swirling storm of thick grey fog. All three were lifted off of their feet, lost sight of everything except for each other, and were carried in a high, spinning circle, round and round until all sense of direction was utterly lost. The wind howled in Delilah’s ears, ripped at her hair and clothes, tossed her back and forth…
But she didn’t let go of Terevalde. She didn’t let go of Alice. And Alice didn’t let go of either of them.
Terevalde, though… seemed resigned to his fate. He didn’t struggle. Aside from the initial shock, he didn’t raise his voice. The spinning increased, the wind grew stronger and more violent, and Delilah felt consciousness slipping from her grasp.
The last thing she saw before it all went dark was Terevalde’s face.
He seemed to be smiling.