Page 23 of Vasmora

The sound of that feminine voice planted a seed of hope inside of me.

Morsana.

CHAPTER SIX

MAEVYTH

Iswore my eyes were open, but the darkness parted around a vision of myself dancing in a meadow of white mist and asphodels, my long, dark locks bouncing around my shoulders. I’d been there before. A distant dream. A twin. I’d heard the laughter that sounded much like my own, which left me wondering if I was looking through the eyes of someone else.

My replica twirled amongst the tall, white flowers, pausing to look back at me. Her jaw slackened, expression twisting to dread. “What did you do?” she whispered.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ignore her,” Morsana said from behind, and I spun around, the fields and flowers fading to a stark blackness. Only her willowy silhouette remained visible, framed by a bright light at her back. “You’re in a predicament, I see.”

I glanced around in search of the girl who looked like me, but only darkness stretched as far as my eyes could see. “Can you help me?” I asked, twisting back toward the goddess.

“My help has limitations.” She waved her hands gracefully as she spoke.

“Because she subdued my blood magic.”

Morsana chuckled. “It’s true that I am limited by your limitations, but were I inside your body, wielding my own power, she’d have much to fear.”

“Is there a way?”

She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her elbows. “The only way is by freeing me, and at the moment, that doesn’t appear to be a possibility.”

What little hope she’d stirred fizzled away. “Then, what do you mean by escape, if there is no escape?”

“I never said there was no escape. I just said that I cannot facilitate it.”

Eyes narrowed, I stared back at her. “Then, how exactly can you help in limited capacity?”

“By not relinquishing your soul. At the moment, I am the only thing that stands between you and your demise. She can hurt you. Torment you. Perhaps even break you, if she’s persistent enough. But she cannot take your life.” She sauntered closer, brushing her fingers over my shoulder as she circled me. “I can keep it that way, so long as you agree to set me free.”

A burst of laughter flew out of me. “Endure her torment for however long, until she’s bored of me, and what? Discards me? I’d much prefer death, thank you.”

I glanced around in search of a way out. Was I in Caligorya? Or was it simply the darkness of my own cell?

“You can see him again.”

My heart clenched, the mere suggestion of such a thing stirring my pulse. “How?” When she didn’t answer, I turned. The light shining across her face drew attention to our many similarities. Long, inky black curls, silver eyes, and skin as pale as a winter moon. “Is he … with you? In death?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“His soul is not mine to claim. It belongs to the god of chaos and fyre. Therefore, I know nothing of his fate.”

Deimos.

“I thought all the dead belonged to you.”

The corner of her lips pulled to a half-smile. “Only those unclaimed. Mortals, for the most part.”

“Is that why he hasn’t visited me in death?”

“Yes. The unbound souls you encounter are mine to claim. Though, some slip through the cracks.”