“When she died, it was her time,” she tells me as the tunnel makes a dip downward.
“But she took her own life; how can that be her time?” I hunker down as the space between the ceiling and my head shortens.
“Just like when you sacrifice your life to save the world, you mother’s life ended when she took her own life to save you.”
“But how did it save me? She didn’t know if she’d lead Stephan to me. She just feared she would.”
“No, she knew.” She stops in front of an archway. “Just like I knew you needed to come here.”
“So you’ve seen how all of this is going to turn out?” I question.
She nods then inches through the archway and vanishes into the darkness. I follow after her, trying to keep track of her silhouette, but darkness suffocates me, bearing down heavily. I feel so heavy.
When I can finally see clearly again, I’m standing in front of a throne made of twisted, thorny branches. The legs are perched on a blood-red platform that grows out from the charcoal floor.
“She’s not here,” I say to Alana, turning in a circle, taking in the rippling sheet of silver metal above my head.
“Oh, she’s here.” Alana points upward.
The sheet warps, and a shimmering spiral of metal twists down and connects to the seat of a throne, forming an eyeless woman with glittering, sliver skin.
“Quomodo audent intra hic sponte. Ubi non est libertas,” her voice ripples through the room.
“I’ve come to turn myself in,” Alana calls out, moving in front of me. “And she would like to make a bargain with you.”
“I do not make bargains!” the queen bellows, thankfully in a language I can understand. “There are no bargains to be made here, only souls to collect.”
“Feel her soul, Helena,” Alana speaks passionately as she stands tall in front of the throne. “Feel it and you’ll see.”
I don’t understand what’s going on. I just hope Alana does, hope I can trust her. Hope. All of this is riding on hope.
“She’s broken.” He mouth moves fluidly, liquid steel flowing. “Why do you bring her to me? Your first time in the Afterlife after escaping your debt for years, and this is what you bring me? A broken and tortured soul that belongs to another?” She flicks her wrist, shooing us away. “Take her away.” She unexpectedly freezes then leans forward in her throne with eagerness written all over her face. “No, better yet, stay now that you’re here.”
“She’s come to make an exchange for the lost souls’ freedom.” Alana moves in front of me, blocking the queen from my view. “She’s the one responsible for the heavy amount of traffic you’ve had lately.”
“How dare you!” Helena shouts, slamming her fist against the armrest, liquid splashing from her body and pooling around the throne. “There’s nothing you can do or give me that would ever, ever make me want to free any of my souls!”
Alana spins toward me, her hair whipping around. “Show her the ring. Show her now.”
Stepping around Alana, I lift my hand and show the queen her ring.
Helena gasps, jerking back in her throne while covering her mouth with her hand. “Where did you get that?”
Before I can respond, she dives off her throne. With a swish, her liquid body pools in front of me, and she rises, taking form. Then she dips her nose toward me and smells me like a dog.
“Who are you?” she growls “And why does your soul feel unnatural, like venom in my lungs?”
I look to Alana for help because I have no idea what to say. Alana opens her mouth to say something, but the queen cuts her off.
“It’s invigorating,” she purrs, sniffing me again. “I want it.” She swoops up and dives down with her mouth open.
I can feel my limbs being pulled inside her body as her liquid seeps through my skin like hot, polluted water.
“Let me out!” I scream, but my voice gets trapped in her body.
She slinks back to the throne and sits back down. “There we go. Much better.”
I dry heave as I feel what she’s feeling, feel how much she wants to keep me.
“Let me out.” I start to cry.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re not going anywhere,” she says. “Ever again.”
“You can’t hold onto her forever,” Alana tells the queen after hours have gone by. She’s been pacing in front of the throne ever since the queen . . . well, ate