Page 129 of The Nymph King

Memories of their last expedition into the Under—ambush, blood, failure—rose like bile. She rounded on Esa. “That’s enough, First Witch.”

Esa’s wings stilled; her gaze bored into Imani’s. “You have explained the Source,” Imani said, voice brittle. “They grasp the danger.”

“They understand half of it.”

“They know what they must know.”

“No!” Esa’s shout cut through the hush. “They know something is failing. They don’t know where our only lead lies.”

“That lead is mine to reveal.”

Pain flitted across Esa’s face but didn’t soften her resolve. “My brother is the lead. He died with secrets I never uncovered, and I’ve carried that hole in me every day. You don’t get to bury his work because it’s inconvenient.”

Imani’s cheeks burned hotter. She opened her mouth to strike back⁠—

“I know,” Esa cut in quietly. “I know you’re protecting yourself. But I’m trying to protect everyone.”

Lore sidled closer to Esa. “The Under,” he said. “His soul remains intact there.”

Imani’s pulse thudded. She understood without words. Their eyes locked, challenge and fear swirling between them.

Esa pointed toward the jagged window, stained glass quivering in its frame. “To find him, we must enter the Under.”

An icy dread curled in Imani’s gut. She rubbed the tension out of her neck. Beyond those thresholds lay echoes of death and shadows that never forget.

Saevel put his elbows on his knees. “Only the dead enter the Under. That is law. The living do not walk there.”

Low murmurs rippled through the council.

“You cannot speak to the dead,” one voice whispered. “Even if you reached the Under, the Furies who guard their realm will tear outsiders apart.”

Esa crossed her arms, tapping a finger against her forearm as if weighing her next words.

Imani felt sweat drip down her back. Esa wouldn’t give this secret away. She wouldn’t.

But finally, the pixie spoke: “The boundary is not absolute.”

Imani couldn’t hold back the snarl in her voice. “Esa⁠—”

Her friend flinched slightly but plowed on. “The living can cross if something from that realm guides them.”

“That is more than they need to know.” Imani tried to rein in the situation, but her voice wavered under every pair of eyes.

Esa softened her tone just enough to reach Imani. “They need details.” Then, turning back to the room, she met each pair of eyes. “We’ve already done it. We have a living guide among us.”

Gasps fluttered around the chamber like startled sparrows fleeing a tree. Imani closed her eyes for one breath, bracing herself.

“That’s impossible,” an aged High Sentinel muttered. “Eldritch elves do not cross that boundary.”

“It is possible.” Esa motioned toward Imani. More sweat covered Imani’s neck as the council’s eyes burned her skin. Esa mouthed a silent apology. Then she stepped back, bowing into Lore’s side.

Saevel gave Imani a contemplative look. “Is it true, Imani? Are you an Eldritch elf?”

Imani inhaled, palm against the cool stone of the bench. “Half,” she breathed. “Meira and I have a Norn mother, but my father is of the Eldritch. Esa and I crossed into the Under once, and attackers assailed us immediately. The Under Realm’s monarchs are missing, factions hunting any claimant to power.”

No one interrupted as she pressed on, “They do not see me as a visitor but as an heir contender. If I return, they’ll declare war on me… and on each other.”

Saevel touched his chin in thought. “And your father?”