what the rest of this world has to offer.” It was interesting, to say the least, since introverts were the happiest in their safe spaces, with barely a family member or two around. The soul fae showed some similarities to the Amazonian tribes I’d studied decades ago. “Your bloodlines are strong, though,” I added. “I see you place great value on such ties.”
Sissa nodded. “We do. Family is everything to us. We think the same. We feel the same. We would never hurt one another. The same cannot be said for the others. I suppose it’s why we stick to our… clusters, as you call them.”
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad thing,” I replied. “It’s eerie but not unseen or unheard of. I’m simply expressing my fascination.”
Unending had telepathically tried to find out more about Joy’s relationship with Spirit, but the Reaper had dismissed her request, saying it belonged in the past. She clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and I wasn’t exactly shocked. Spirit must’ve charmed her, and she must’ve felt foolish and ashamed upon learning of his machinations. It was a sensitive topic.
An hour went by as Loren and Sissa told us more about their village and what they remembered from the earliest pages of soul fae history. Joy didn’t do much talking during this time, focusing mostly on watching Unending and me like a hawk. Every movement I made sparked her interest. She followed each of my wife’s wandering glances. Death may have told her to stand back and assist us, but Joy wasn’t done being suspicious of us. She didn’t have much reason for this. It had to be instinct.
I couldn’t taste any of the soul fae’s fruits—wonders of their gardens and orchards. They looked like sublime crosses between peaches and apples, but they came in the wildest variety of colors, from bright yellow to rabid pink, neon purple and lime green. They smelled amazing, with faint notes of citrus lingering in my nostrils long after I’d put the fruits back in the bowl.
The nectar, however, was something I could ingest as a vampire, though only in moderation. A few sips were enough to virtually open me up to the universe itself, my senses suddenly exploding and stretching beyond their natural limits. My head felt as light as a feather, yet I could hear the wings of a butterfly-like insect flapping half a mile away. I could see the microorganisms that dwelled around the crude green bulbs of nearby orchids—tiny beings with too many legs and caterpillar bodies. I could smell sweat of the wolf-adjacent creatures that Unending and I had seen in the jungle before we’d entered the village. The animals were circling the protective layer, unable to get in. It was an interesting fault in the magic’s design. Smell was the one sense that was constantly underestimated.
“This is insane,” I managed, gently leaning into Unending. She couldn’t drink or eat anything at all, since she no longer had a living body to nourish. She and Joy were the only ones untouched by the nectar’s effects, and they watched us as we smiled and softened under its sweet influence. “I mean, amazing, but insane.”
Unending whispered into my ear. “Better than the spiced rose water you mentioned?” In a sense, she was vicariously living through me, listening to my thoughts and impressions of everything I tasted.
“Different would be the key word. Similar, yes, but also different,” I replied, clearly not making much sense. “I think the effect is much stronger and concentrated on each nerve ending in my body. The succubi’s concoction serves to relax one’s muscles, to elevate the mood and such. This nectar is more of an amplifier than anything else,” I added, then described each of the sensations that had taken hold of me.
Joy shook her head slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly with stifled amusement. “You’re all so fragile.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“One minute you’re alive. Then you’re not. I suppose it’s the charm of life itself. Experiencing every sensation to the fullest. Tasting everything. Feeling everything. And then, poof. You’re gone. No more fruits. No more nectar. No taste left. No sensation but for the emptiness of lingering between life and death. A wisp. Nothing more,” Joy said. There was sadness in her voice as she spoke. As if maybe she wished she could experience life again.
It got me thinking. “When you met Anunit, did she perhaps offer you a resurrection deal in return for