Page 97 of Synodic

Searching for the source of the hauntingly lovely sound, I managed to push and steady myself up on my arms. My vision and head spun, and if I’d had anything in my stomach, it would be well on its way to covering the cold, hard ground.

Lifting my eyes, my gaze followed the stark-white trees growing throughout the massive underground chamber like branches of spilled milk. Their trunks reached and extended up in membranous wooden columns. Lining the walls and ceiling of the black basalt cave were twinkling crystals that mimicked the starry night.

It was enchanting and dazzling. And it was a prison.

“Welcome to my Crystal Crypts,” came the lustrous voice once again.

I followed the sound of that lilting alto until my eyes landed upon the most breathtaking woman I’d ever seen. Raised on a dais, she sat upon a seat of thinly twisted trees, woven and manipulated into an intimidating chair that reached to the cavern’s ceiling.

Realization came slowly that I was in the throne room of a queen.

“I was wondering when you would wake. It would be a shame for you to miss your own welcoming party,” said the woman who could be none other than Aliphoura. She was devastating to look at, the pure embodiment of elegance, composure, and beauty. Silky raven hair framed her heart-shaped face and fell to her waist in thick, luscious waves, a stark contrast against her pale white complexion. A crown of what looked like carved bone and smoked diamonds sat atop her burnished mane. The bodice of her tight emerald dress clung to her body like a shimmering glove; the corset followed the hourglass shape of her torso before falling around the base of her throne in regal swells of billowing silk.

Standing next to her up on the dais was the red man.

The hideous wound I gave him bisected and marred his grimacing face. He seethed and twitched with the pent-up aggression of a trained beast waiting for its command to taste blood. My blood.

He would be wanting to exact his revenge, cash in on his deadly promise to me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before Aliphoura released him from his leash.

“An invitation would have sufficed,” I ground out, still folded on the floor in front of her, and a wave of murmured shock flared behind my back. I’d almost forgotten the audience of loyal subjects here to witness whatever horrors she had planned for me.

Despite my impending predicament and the dozen or so soldiers lining the crowds with staffed rapiers, Aliphoura’s subjects did appear to be in the middle of a party. They were all clad in thin drapes of fabric that swooped and gathered around their pale sun-deprived bodies. Many of them were lounging across each other, feeding one another from the large banquet tables piled high with delicacies, or drinking the light pink liquid that dripped from crystal fountains.

Her lovely red lips smiled, reminding me of one of Mother Nature’s crueler jokes—the more beautiful something was, the deadlier it could be. “I couldn’t run the risk of you declining. And it was so very sweet of Caeryn to come and fetch you for me.” Her elbow was propped on a branched armrest, her chin resting delicately over elongated fingertips. “You’ve been laying at my feet for a day now, sweetling. You did keep us waiting.” She pouted her lips, and following her cue, the crowd responded with booing as if suddenly remembering to agree.

Abhorred, I pulled myself up to my shredded feet. I had lain here for hours while a party commenced around my unconscious body. My eyes darted to Caeryn; he must have carried my limp body the rest of the way here and dumped me right at his queen’s feet.

Aliphoura saw where my gaze pinpointed its hatred, “Ah yes, it sounds like you two had quite the adventure together. The mark on his face will forever provide a distinct reminder never to disappoint the one who saved him. Saved us all. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Not even the slightest tick surfaced across his face. “Yes, my queen.” He had learned to submit and soldier through her treatment. The others in the room were no better, looking nervous at best, only a few looked downright terrified.

“Stop this madness,” a voice rang through the cavern. “You are no real savior.”

Aliphoura’s eyes snapped furiously to the crowd. “Who said that?” she demanded, but when no one confessed, she merely shrugged her shoulders. “It appears the offering hour is upon us then.” She reached out a slender arm, pointing to someone in the crowd.

The multitude of voices gasped in horror as a young woman draped in silk clutched at her neck, scrambling to breathe. She collapsed to the floor in a flourish of cloth and golden hair, and as her twitching slowed to the stillness of death, Aliphoura’s veins darkened across her alabaster skin like injected ink before dissipating into her flesh. “Do I not provide for you all? A sacrifice made by one of you each day is what gives me the power to keep us thriving, keep us living. You would do well to remember that.”

Horrified and revolted, I realized the people of the crypts were surviving off the life force of the sacrificed.

“You’ve lied to these people, led them here under false pretenses,” I snarled with all the resentment I could throw at her through a fogged mind. “You will never truly have their loyalty.”

Her eyes, like wells of melted gold, turned to me. “I don’t ask for their loyalty. I demand it.”

“Then you have their fear.”

“I have their obedience,” Aliphoura said, ever the portrait of poise, and my jaw hitched. Looking at their frozen faces, I knew she was right. “You pity them. But I wouldn’t if I were you, because in the end, I’ll have what I want from you as well.”

“Are you going to tell me what that is, or are you going to keep me guessing all night?”

Her eyes momentarily slipped away as she stroked the green silk of her dress. She quickly waved it away. “I may eventually have use for you, but in the meantime, we might as well entertain ourselves, shall we?” Turning to Caeryn, she said, “You mentioned something about a spark earlier. I have never heard of such a thing, and I must admit it intrigues me. This weakling claims she is the Synodic Prophecy. I think I should like for her to prove it.” She addressed her audience. “Wouldn’t we all like to see it?”

The crowd roared in agreement, apparently too terrified to do anything else.

She was toying with me, a cat playing with her catch, and I knew no matter what I said, her game would only end when she wanted it to.

“You can do what you like with me. Just let these people go.”

Brushing my comment aside, she leaned forward in her chair. “The spark, Caeryn, tell me. How did you make it happen again?” Her eyes gleamed with excitement.

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