Beguiled Excerpt:
SHORTER
Wishes are like the wings on a
butterfly—frail and easily destroyed.
Still, as I watched Kelari’s second sun
sink into the Alayeahean Sea, I offered one.
“I wish to find my parents.”
In answer, a frothy wave slapped the sand.
Its edges clambered between my toes, a cooling balm, before retreating. I
stepped back.
When it came to the sea I was a lurker,
an admirer, definitely not a partaker, though I did love the sound of the surf
as it broke along the shore. The sea baffled me though. An entity I didn’t
understand and had no control over. The waves, the tides, and the creatures
beneath . . . all of it left me frightened.
I closed my eyes, and took a deep
breath, the salty air clinging to my insides. The wind whipped against my braid
and sent my light dress skittering around me like a dancing kite.
LONGER
The dream was venom to my sleeping
soul.
It wouldn’t stop.
Night after night. Like the rising of
Kelari’s suns, the dream was consistent.
Always exacting.
Always relentless.
Always unwavering.
An alabaster door loomed before me. I
shivered involuntarily. Doors! Behind them lay the unknown. The door shimmered
open and I stepped through without holding my breath like I normally did. There
wasn’t any point. I knew I dreamed. The outcome couldn’t be altered.
One overwhelming emotion permeated.
Terror. It saturated the air. Dense, like the molten lava dribbling down the
side of a distant volcano. The fear wasn’t mine though. I scanned my
surroundings for the offender generating the sensation, but saw no one.
Above was darkness. No moon. No stars.
Only emptiness. Raging fires dotted the otherwise barren landscape like potted
plants. Some of the fires rose into the sky. Others roared low, smoldering
against the shadowed ground.
Directly in front of me stretched a
bridge over a vast ocean of lava. I ambled toward the center, treading
carefully. The lava roiled and hiccupped far below. Heat rose and struck my
face, but the bridges’ surface was cool against my hands.
Movement caught my attention.
Something swam in the lava.
It was long. Half of its body covered
with scales while the other half moved like a billowing red curtain. The
creature burst into the air. I choked on a scream, falling back, slamming my
elbows against the bridges’ floor.
The thing, a ferrikat, ascended higher
and higher, passing the bridge and continuing upward. I noticed the “curtain”
was actually fiery hair attached to a head. It had a face, which arched toward
the dark sky. One nose, one mouth, and two eyes. The lids were shut, and long
ruby lashes rested against its porcelain cheeks. Clavicle bones protruded at
the base of the neck, where shoulders attached to arms attached to hands
attached to long fingers, hung at its sides.
A
female, I realized, trying to chew away my shock. I knew ferrikat’s existed,
but they were rarely ever seen.
From the waist down the body was that
of a fish. Scarlet, magenta, orange, and fuchsia scales sparkled or burned. Her
tail splayed wide, and was shaped like a dolphin. Abruptly the she-fish
stopped, and hung in the air, like a perfectly placed painting. Her face tilted
downward, slowly. Familiarity blew through me like a warm wind. The ferrikat
opened her eyes.
I knew those eyes.
