An opportunity lost forever.
He pivoted in place, trying to peer into the distance, but it was all black.
He wasn’t going to just stand in one place for eternity, though.
Hadrian took a step. He was reassured that whatever supported him seemed to continue, so he took another. Then he took a third step and, convinced that he was on some level surface, he began to walk, gradually increasing his speed.
He didn’t know how long he walked or how far—he was starting to wish he’d counted his footsteps—when a faint glimmer of light appeared in the distance. He stopped, wondering whether his eyes were deceiving him, but the light remained there. It was golden and moving, like a shifting cloud. He had no idea what it was.
Since he had exactly nothing left to lose, Hadrian walked toward the light.
As he drew nearer, he realized that he was seeing a cluster of individual golden lights, each one on the move. It reminded him of a picture he’d seen of an atom, with electrons orbiting its nucleus, each cutting its own path, snared in a web of attraction. Another dozen steps and he saw that the lights circled a woman. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground and seemed to be reading a book, although he doubted there was enough light for that. Her hair was grey and hung down her back in a silken river.
The lights were fireflies, not just surrounding her but winking on and off as they did so. She looked up and smiled at him, as if she’d been expecting him, but Hadrian didn’t recognize her. She was wearing a dress that looked medieval to him. There was embroidery on the neckline and along the hem, but the garment was worn and a bit stained. Her hair was loose and blond, her eyes sad but clear blue.
“Hadrian,” she said as if they were old friends and patted the ground beside herself. “I thought you’d be along soon.”
Hadrian sat down beside her. In the light of the fireflies, he could see that he was dressed in his T-shirt and jeans, as he had been in his studio. His skin looked normal in color, just as hers did.
“Do I know you?” he asked, uncertain whether he’d be able to make a sound before he did.
She smiled sadly. “You know my daughter, Rania.”
Rania. That was his mate’s name. Though he was glad to finally know it, her name was just another thing Hadrian had learned too late.
“Where are we?”
“The realm of the dead,” the woman said with a complacent nod. “It’s not so bad,” she continued, patting the back of his hand. “No pain. No fears. No dread about any event, mostly because you can’t do much about anything anymore.” She pursed her lips. “At least, that would be the case if you stayed.”
“I have a choice?” Hadrian felt a spark of hope.
“No, but others do.” She stared at his hand, her gaze fixed on the ring that had been on the necklace around Rania’s neck. It seemed as if she couldn’t tear her gaze away. “Have you seen him?” she whispered, raising her gaze to his with hope.
“I don’t know whose ring this is,” Hadrian admitted. “It was on a chain around Rania’s neck. I was holding it when she manifested elsewhere and the chain snapped.” He couldn’t seem to keep himself from confiding the whole story, which reminded him of Rania’s apparent need to talk when they’d first met. “It’s kind of stuck on my finger. I thought she might come back for it, and I’d feel it if she tried to take it.”
Her mother nodded, her gaze drawn to the ring again. She brushed it with her fingertips, reverently, then spoke before he could ask a question. “You know why the Dark Queen wanted to kill you, don’t you?”
“Because I extinguished the Fae sword? Or because I killed a Fae warrior with my steel talons?”
Rania’s mother smiled. “You’re forgetting your legacy.”
“What about it? I’m an ice dragon, but all that means is that snow and ice are attracted to me. Storms, too.”
She was shaking her head slowly. “That’s not all it means, not to you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re your father’s son, but you’re also your mother’s son.” She gave him an intent look, willing him to work it out.
Hadrian frowned. “I never knew either of them. They died the day I was born.”
“You should have paid more attention to Alasdair’s tales.”
It was startling that this stranger knew so much about him, and even more strange that she was giving him similar advice to what he’d given Rania. “Argenta, my mother, could spin ice into silver.”
She nodded. “And your foster mother, Loreena, worked that silver into the most prized Fae weapons when they were both captive in Fae. When exposed to the light of the moon by Maeve, the moonlight filled those weapons with a fiery cold glow and fierce power.”
“And I extinguished one.”
“Two,” she corrected, holding up a finger. “And worse—you melted them.”
“Do you know how? Or why?”
“The fact that those blades were wrought in Fae by mortals meant they could slice portals between the realms. They had some of each realm in them.”
Hadrian nodded understanding.
“But they were forged of silver spun out of ice, which answers the summons of an ice dragon like you. You turned that sword back into ice, just by touching it, by beckoning to the ice without even knowing that you did as much. And then it melted.” Rania’s mother shook her head. “Imagine what would happen to the Fae’s armory if you paid it a visit.”
Hadrian nodded. “I thought of that. It might all melt.”
She nodded mildly. “She thought of it first.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’m dead. There are no consequences any more for sharing a truth that others would prefer to keep secret or deny.” She reached out and touched his hand, her fingertips close to that ring. “And I think you have the ability to bring joy to my daughter, as I never did.”
Hadrian wished he could console her, but he didn’t know what she’d done or not done. He stood up, filled with purpose. “How do I get back to Fae?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not in my power to give life to anyone.” She sounded a lot more philosophical about that than Hadrian felt. She gestured with a fingertip, making a little spinning motion in the air, and the fireflies zoomed toward her. They circled the tip of her finger so closely and flew so quickly that Hadrian could only see a globe of golden light. Was it an illusion that there seemed to be a sphere within the orb of light?
He looked closer and thought he saw a spider in the act of killing a wasp. “The gem of the hoard!” he whispered, recognizing it. As soon as he spoke, the fireflies dispersed and the illusion was gone. He looked at his companion in confusion but she smiled.
“Just think what else you could freeze, if you were free of this place,” she mused. Her eyes were filled with a challenge and that expression reminded Hadrian of his mate.
“I have to get back.”
“If you can.” She reached out for the ring again and her voice caught. “If you see him, ask him to dream of me. In that realm, we might meet again.”
Hadrian nodded agreement.
She stood up then, her expression serene. She brushed off her skirt, then tipped her head back to smile at the fireflies. They surrounded her more tightly, flying in close circles as she raised her hands. So many fireflies buzzed around her hands that Hadrian could only see a blur of golden light. Their glow became brighter, as if they became more numerous, then slowly, ever so slowly, the cloud of insects began to lower toward the ground.