Page 140 of A Soul’s Awakening

Then, she fell. She tumbled head over toe through the soothing blue water that coated her skin and flooded her senses. Tiny bubbles escaped her mouth and nose, yet she found she could still breathe.

Helena continued to plummet, feeling herself come apart, dissolving as she plunged through. The fragmented parts of her recognised that Atlas had been left behind. The sweet and lonely Dragon was still in Muspelheim, fighting the behemoth Surt.

Helena forced her breaking body to turn back to the direction from which it was falling. She focused on the connection between them. There was a bright line of gold travelling back to the world she had fled. With her translucent, scarred arm, she reached forward and grasped it. The thickened golden thread that joined them was now an unbreakable braided cord. Helena tugged on it, determined not to leave the Dragon behind. He would come with her. She would make sure of it.

Come with me, Atlas. Leave that place behind. Leave your body there. Just like we talked about! Helena called down the line as she dissolved further. She felt a thrum of rage, pain, and confusion in response from Atlas. Do as you are told! Come with me! she growled down the cord, yanking it with the last of her strength.

Then, she felt him. The Dragon’s raging mind hurtled into the tunnel of Lance’s swirling magic down the golden cord. It came smashing into her at full pelt. The weight of Atlas, of his knowledge and age, crashed fully into her psyche.

Helena saw flashes of his tragic existence across her mind’s eye, burning into her own memories. She found herself feeling everything he felt, seeing everything he saw.

Young Atlas spreading his wings, excited with nervous energy, leaving his mother as he fledged. Then, being blown off course, ice-cold terror in his veins, in a once-in-a-century storm. Crash-landing in Seelieland tens of thousands of years ago. Terrified. Alone. Atlas cautiously hopeful when meeting a youthful Fae, Theo, at his most vulnerable. Then, the Dragon’s binding and imprisonment to Muspelheim by an older, more powerful Theo. His life becoming a whirl of pain, bitterness, and fury.

Helena screamed.

There were no longer two ends to the braided cord between the woman and the Dragon. Both ends linked into her fragmenting body. The line wrapped itself around her in knots, fully binding her in golden light, before Helena fully dissolved into the swirling sea of her Merman’s power.

The fragmented pieces of herself slammed back into her dying body. Helena’s eye snapped open. She gasped. Her body pitched forward, as if retching, only to thump back into the wall of the familiar bedroom. She gripped the sheets beneath her, her new black claws shredding the cotton, as her body trembled. Smoke-free air flooded her lungs. Crisp, clean, and unmistakably Seelieland.

The shock of her return thundered through her veins. Then came pain, sharp and searing, beginning in her scarred arm. Just as it had when the King first grabbed her, it spread fast, all-consuming. Helena grimaced as the agony racked her body. Breath ragged, she kept her eye fixed forward. Slowly, she reached inward into the recesses of her mind.

Atlas? she asked inside her head, partly wondering whether he had been a product of pain-induced delirium.

Here. The Dragon rustled in her mind, and her dark grey skin instantly cooled again. The scorching pain of the King’s touch retreated. I have forced down the curse. Len, I am so tired, he said weakly.

Rest, she responded softly.

Helena vaguely registered a hand on her blistered wrist. She squinted down at it and tracked her gaze up the slender arm, shoulder, then finally focused on the face of its owner.

“El?” she croaked, her cracked lips splitting into a grin.

“Mum!” the Changeling gasped, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck.

The mother and daughter crashed against each other in a hug. Relief flooded Helena. She wanted to cry, but she was so dehydrated that no tears came. She was so thirsty that she could barely speak. Helena’s eye met Lance’s sweating, exhausted face over her daughter’s shoulder. The Merman wore a soft smile of relief, tears silvering the corners of his eyes. She reached for him, grabbing his smoke-scented shirt, and yanked him into the embrace.

“I’ve missed you so much, El. I…” Helena whispered hoarsely as she pressed herself closer to her daughter.

She felt the Merman let out a long exhale as he wrapped his arms around them, leaning forward on his knees. He clasped Helena and Eleanor to him. She felt his stinging tears fall through her hair and travel down to her blistered cheeks as he rubbed his forehead onto her temple, as though he could not believe she was really there.

“You reached between the worlds, Lance,” Helena’s voice cracked into his tangled hair. “Your magic reached between worlds and brought me home.”

“Between the worlds? What are you talking about, Mum?” Eleanor chuckled through her tears, resting her cheek on Helena’s shoulder.

“I thought… I…” Lance choked on his sobs.

“You are enough, love. You—” Helena’s words cut off as her body gave spasms of pain.

Atlas? I thought you stopped it.

I did. I am stopping it, the Dragon responded sleepily. This pain is a result of your other injuries, and maybe from travelling between the worlds. Please… I am so tired.

“Len?” Lance asked, eyes wild, as he pulled back from the embrace.

Helena’s attention was drawn back to him.

“Hurts,” she managed through gritted teeth.

The Merman wiped his face with back of his broad hand. Leaning back on his knees, his eyes glanced to the curtains covering the window of their room. Dawn’s first light filtered through. His jaw set. They needed to get out of Solas as quickly as possible. The streets could already be crawling with Fae guards.