“It looks different than it does on the maps,” Glais commented as he stared through the window of the plane. “It looks so… big. I’ve never seen so much ice.”
“For a while, I thought that all the land, everywhere, looked like this,” Varia said quietly. “I was so stupid. When I first saw how many people there are in a city, I was so terrified.”
“People are pretty terrifying,” Glais agreed, leaning across her to put his face near the glass. “Gee, look at how pure it is, Vari. It feels like a different planet down here; I can see why you liked it.”
“I used to have time to think,” she told him. “I could imagine things, dream about things. The way the world was in my mind ended up being so much better than it really is. Now, I have every minute of the day scheduled for me. Now I have guards outside my bedroom tweeting about me. It’s so great being a royal princess. Yay.”
Glais nodded. “Well, maybe for a few minutes, while we’re down here, we can relax. We can take a breather, and listen to ourselves think. And it will be super private. No one to tweet about you, and even if there was someone and he tried, there wouldn’t be any cell service. Kind of like a camping trip! We’re getting away from it all.”
Varia smiled. Glancing over at her parents and the psychiatrist, she saw that Trevain was sleeping while Aazuria and the doctor were reading. She adjusted herself in her seat so that she could whisper in Glais’ ear. “My tattoo is finally healed. It looks so pretty! Thank you so much.”
Feeling his cheeks flush, Glais turned to her with insecurity in his eyes. “Are you sure? You really like it? I was so worried I wouldn’t do a good job.”
“I love it,” she assured him. “I’m glad you did it instead of someone else.”
“Can I see?” he asked shyly.
She glanced to the front of the plane where her parents were and she nodded. Shifting in her seat, she slid her shirt up her back a few inches to reveal her inked skin. Glais reached out tentatively to skim his fingers along the edges of the design.
“Whoa, that’s awesome,” he said. “I can’t believe I drew that.”
“Why not? You’re really good.”
“But it’s on you,” he whispered, “forever.”
“Does that seem like a long time to you?” she asked curiously, peering back over her shoulder.
“Yeah. I know it’s only a couple hundred years at most,” he told her as his fingertips grazed over the lines of ink along her spine. “Do you think we’ll still know each other, even when you’re all wrinkly and the tattoo gets faded? Maybe you’ll even get fat.”
“Fat?” Varia said in surprise. “Shut up. You’re going to get fat.”
They were interrupted by the psychiatrist clearing his throat above them, and Varia nervously pulled the back of her shirt down while Glais jumped away from her. Both teenagers tried to awkwardly pretend that the doctor had not seen the tattoo.
“Well,” said Dr. Rosenberg, giving them a knowing look which silently communicated that he would not spill their secret. “We just started our descent, kids. We’re going to be landing in a few minutes, so… buckle up.”
“Yes, Dr. Rosenberg,” Varia said politely as she fastened the belt around her hips. She gave the man a sweet and obedient smile.
He looked at her suspiciously before turning to walk away, and moving back to the adults.
“I swear to Sedna’s pantyhose,” Glais muttered, “your father is going to kill me.”
Varia shrugged. “Maybe he should try. At least then you’d actually get a good fencing lesson in learning to defend yourself.”
“Do you like to see me get hurt?” Glais asked with a groan. “Is that why you’re always getting me into trouble?”
“Physically, yes,” she answered with a smile. “It’s kind of funny. But don’t worry; I haven’t even begun getting you into real trouble yet.”
Meanwhile, at the front of the plane, Trevain was stirring from his nap. After producing a giant yawn, he looked over at his wife who was deeply engrossed in a piece of legislative literature.
“I used to love flying when I was younger,” he told her, “but now it just makes me tired all the time. How do you do it? You must circle the globe twice a week.”
“I have to,” she answered simply, flipping an electronic page.
“Aazuria, you’re so far away. Let’s open the window and see the sights. Why don’t you put that down and have a conversation with me?” he asked.
“Because we’re about to land, and I need to distract myself from where we are,” she answered. “It’s not easy to be here.”
“But we came here to face it—together,” he reminded her. “We came here to get past this, and if you just bury your head in the sand until it’s over, we won’t really fix anything.”
Aazuria pressed the power button on her tablet and turned to him with anger in her dark eyes. “Fine. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
“Don’t force her, King Trevain,” said the psychiatrist lightly from where he sat across the aisle. “No one likes to remember a time or place when they’ve been victimized. It’s really brave of her to do this at all.”
Trevain nodded, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He pretended to go back to sleep to hide his frustration, but he was startled by a small hand resting on his bicep. Looking to his side, he saw that Aazuria was gazing at him with a nervous look on her features. Her usually-white hair and fair eyes had been darkened from her recent exposure to sunlight, and she always seemed a little more innocent to him above the water.
“I don’t think I can go back down there,” she told him in a low voice. “Being this close to the place is painful enough. I tried so hard, for so long, just to get away from this continent. Can I just stay here on the plane while you and Varia go check it out?”
Trying to hide his disappointment, he nodded. He closed his eyes again and relaxed against the back of the chair. He felt Aazuria’s grip on his arm tighten as the plane sharply dipped in altitude, preparing for its landing. He felt a weight against his shoulder where his wife had buried her face into his coat. He was surprised by this sudden intimacy; she never initiated any kind of physical contact with him.
It was like the closer they got to Lake Vostok, the more vulnerable she became. He was beginning to see that she had left all her weakness and femininity in this place, emerging only a mother and a stateswoman. Her imprisonment had transformed her into a war leader with no trace of the tender girl he had seen glimpses of when they had first met. Her softness had been rare even back then, but now it was nonexistent. He wondered if this was who she needed to be in order to rule; would he be making it more difficult on her if he tried to change her? Was that not his place? Trevain found himself passing his hand gently over her hair, causing the scent of her green-apple shampoo to waft up into his nostrils. It was a little too intoxicating. He could not resist taking advantage of her unusual nearness by pressing his lips against her forehead. He held her against him until they felt the jolting, jarring motion of the plane landing on the endless glacier below.
“I should go on more plane rides with you,” he joked. “It’s the only time you’ll let me cuddle with you a little.”
She smiled, making the motion of nodding against his arm. “If you decided to travel all over the world with me, Varia would lose her stay-at-home dad.”
“We’ve already established that I’m not much use to her. She connects more with you in the few hours you spend at home than the days she has with me.”
“Well, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To change that,” she said with a small yawn.
“Zuri,” he said softly, after thinking for a moment. “Do you think that things happen for a reason? Like maybe, if you hadn’t been abducted, you wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Clan of Zalcan?”
She hesitated. “Yes. This, and also Bain’s death. Without these events, I wouldn’t have been angry enough. I suppose I should be thankful for that anger.”
“I am thankful for you,” Trevain said. “Honestly, I don’t care how distant we are, or how much you don’t seem to like me anymore. I’m just thankful to have you back safe, and home with me. Nothing else matters.”
“I’m glad—I’m glad you still consider me valuable, even though I’ve been deficient when it comes to offering you any real companionship.” Aazuria sighed and pulled away, sliding the shutter of the window open. They both flinched at the harsh white light that poured into the cabin, temporarily blinding them. She turned back to her husband, her face a dark silhouette against the bright sky and snow.
“You wanted me to share this part of my life with you, so here we are. Welcome to my hell.”
The elevator was only large enough for three people to travel down at a time. Aazuria was afraid that after all these years, the technology would be rusted and malfunctioning. Yet somehow, the entrance to Lake Vostok remained in perfect condition. The solar panels on the surface of the dome were still absorbing sunlight for energy, and the air intake valves were still functioning. It seemed that the only barriers preventing her from traveling down to the cabin below were in her mind.
“I don’t remember the code,” Aazuria said, and she was lying of course. The elevator would not work without the six digits that had kept her imprisoned for so many years. How could she forget those numbers?
Varia looked at her mother suspiciously. “Really, Mom? That’s not like you. Well, I remember it. I’ll go down first and send it back up. Coming, Glais?”
“I’ll join you,” the psychiatrist said as he shivered uncontrollably in his parka. “I hope it’s a little bit warmer down there!”
“It is,” Varia assured him, tugging Glais inside the pod with her. The doctor followed as she punched the code into the keypad. “All aboard!” she joked as the elevator began to descend.
Aazuria watched her daughter descend into the earth, and a feeling of nausea overcame her. The mechanism was just as noisy as she remembered it being all those years ago. She pressed a hand against her stomach as she stumbled forward, grasping the side of the structure. It all came rushing back to her. The debilitating loneliness and fear; the futility of trying to escape.
“Zuri? Zuri?” came a voice, piercing the shadows in her head.
The elevator grated loudly, metal against metal. She saw Prince Zalcan Hamnil’s gruesome, contorted face as if he was alive and breathing. Had she not killed him after all? Her enemy moved toward her, his hands outstretched, his twisted features leering spitefully. His hands reached out to touch her, and she could feel them burning directly through the layers of her coat. With a muffled gasp, she pushed him away. When he looked at her in surprise and tried to reach for her again, she sobbed and hit him across the face.
After a moment of lightheadedness, her vision cleared, and she realized that she had actually hit her husband. She was startled to see the red mark across Trevain’s face as he lay on his back on the ground. Taking a shuddering breath, she tried to combat the ghosts in her mind. Trying to ignore the chilling sound of the elevator, she fell to her knees beside him in the snow.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to—”
He rubbed his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not the first time you’ve done that to me. Kind of a turn on, actually.”
She would have smiled, but she could not seem to relax. “I saw his face.”
Trevain nodded. “Do you think of him when you see me?”
“No. It was just the sound. It made me remember…” Aazuria sighed as she looked off at ceaseless expanse of whiteness. “It’s probably a good thing you convinced me to get therapy. My mind has been playing tricks on me lately. I thought I saw my father before, back in Romanova. I couldn’t sleep for several nights.”
“You should tell the doctor about it,” Trevain suggested. “Honestly, I’m starting to believe that man can fix anything just by talking. He reminds me of my father that way—he’s pretty brilliant, huh?”
“Yes, but he’s certainly not all talk,” Aazuria noted. “He did get us to come down here, didn’t he? Sionna wouldn’t have chosen this particular doctor unless she believed he…”
Creaking and grinding metal noises began again as the elevator ascended. Aazuria winced and shut her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth together. She could not seem to form a coherent thought while the elevator was in service. She felt Trevain moving to her side, and taking her gloves from her hands. He clasped his warm hands around hers, massaging her fingers in a soothing manner to help her get past what seemed to be an anxiety attack.
When the elevator stopped working, and the pod had returned to the surface, Aazuria glanced at it warily. Her breathing returned to normal, and she squeezed Trevain’s hands thankfully. “When Varia was five, she figured out the code to the elevator. I used to come up here every time Prince Zalcan left for the winter. I would carve a giant SOS into the snow—it would take me days, and I would be so frozen that I couldn’t move my hands or feet for hours once I got back to the cabin. I felt like they were going to fall off. I would lie there shivering in excruciating pain, and Varia would try to rub my limbs to warm them up.” She gave him a mordant little smile. “But what really hurt was when no one ever saw my signals. I would try to carve a new SOS every few weeks, but no one ever found them. I thought I’d be stuck down here forever.”
Trevain lifted himself to his knees, and wrapped his arms around her. He pressed his cheek against hers. “Everything’s fine now, Zuri. You don’t have to be cold or alone ever again. If you don’t want to go down there, we don’t have to.”
Aazuria shook her head. “We didn’t come all this way for me to be intimidated by an elevator. What would Varia think of me?” Rising to her feet, Aazuria took Trevain’s hand and led him into the giant dome which contained the pod. She punched the digits into the keypad to allow the machine to work, and with one timid glance at her husband, pressed the button which would initiate the descent of the pod.
“So you did remember the code,” he mused.
She nodded, moving into the corner of the elevator and pressing her back against the wall. From the inside, the sound was even louder; she could feel the vibrations of the apparatus in her body. All the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up at attention, and every nerve seemed to be alert, crackling with electricity as though little lightning bolts were shooting across her insides, and colliding in explosions within her head. Aazuria suddenly found that she could not breathe. She remembered this feeling from moments before her heart had stopped, when Emperor Zalcan had used a stun-gun to electrocute her.
She wondered if she was going to die again.
The elevator ride was several minutes of plunging deep into the earth, and Aazuria felt her panic growing with every second, every vibration, and every whir and purr of mechanic motors. She found her hand moving shakily to the control panel, where she hit a button to pause the pod. “I can’t do this,” she whispered as she grasped the sides of the control panel. “I don’t want to go back down there. I didn’t know I would feel this way.”
“It seems to me like you’re a little claustrophobic,” Trevain said gently. “The elevator’s kind of small—it gives me the willies too.”
“No, I don’t mind small spaces. I mind this particular small space. I mind the thought of never being able to escape from that cabin again once we go down there. I know it’s irrational,” she said, her words jumbling together in confused chaos, “but is it irrational? I was trapped down there for over six years. Then, even once I could use the elevator, it was winter in Antarctica and I couldn’t leave the cabin anyway. I would freeze and starve to death, and so would Varia. How can you expect me to go down there again?”
Trevain seized her shoulders to pull her away from the control panel. He shoved her body up against the wall of the elevator, clasping her face in his hands. “Here, let me distract you.”
When his lips pressed against hers, Aazuria’s eyes widened in surprise. After a moment, her eyes naturally closed and allowed the warmth of his mouth to invade her senses. She felt him unzipping the top of her coat and slipping his hand around her neck, angling her head for more leverage. He slid his hand down to rest against her collarbone, causing her skin to melt beneath the emotion which seemed to be leaking into her body though his fingers.
“I’m going to send the elevator down now, okay?” he asked, his words tickling her lips.
She nodded dumbly, and when the machine began moving again, she hardly noticed the sound of the elevator clattering. He returned his mouth to hers, and she hardly felt the rattling motion of the pod in which they stood. It felt like it was only natural for the world to shake when he kissed her. She had tried to starve herself of this for so long, and for so many good reasons, but in the tiny metal box which led her down to her personal prison, her past was inescapable. Her husband was part of that past.
Aazuria abruptly realized that in running from her trauma, she had also left behind her bliss.
There had been sound logic behind abandoning both, but she could not seem to remember them with Trevain’s hands on her body. When the elevator finally arrived at the cabin below, Aazuria was dizzy and disoriented, but not from fear. Trevain stepped away from her, leaving her face slightly flushed in surprise, and her body humming with arousal.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Trevain asked lightly.
She shook her head.
“I should go on more long elevator rides with you,” he said with a grin before moving to open the doors into the cabin.
All the pleasant tingly-feelings that his touch had given her began to dissipate when she saw the room. She moved forward in a daze, feeling her insides contort in a physical reaction to the memories inspired by every piece of furniture. Every corner of the cabin held the lingering aftertaste of the sorrows and joys she had experienced in the congested space. The virtual pages of the mental diary she had kept all seemed to be flipping rapidly in her mind’s eye. Aazuria walked forward and touched the back of the chair in which Varia sat. She saw the way its wooden legs had been taped together, and remembered smashing it to smithereens while she was in labor. Of course, there was very little furniture in the cabin, and she had eventually needed to put it back together.
Day Three-Hundred-and-thirty something in Vostok. I feel like all I do, all day, is sit on that small bed, waiting for Varia to get hungry again. I would love to be in the water, but I can’t step away from her for too long. To add some variety to my day, I have mended the broken chair. Now, I’m sitting a few feet away from the bed as I breastfeed Varia. Is this what I have been reduced to? Finding amusement in the novelty of sitting in a different location?
The thoughts were so vividly clear as they danced across her brain that she could almost remember the feeling of holding an infant in her arms. She could almost remember the painful tug of the child suckling at her nipple, and her own tears as they fell, splashing on Varia’s little body. She had used the bed sheets to fashion reusable diapers for her daughter, but other than that, the poor girl had been raised for an entire year without any clothing. Moving forward, Aazuria stooped to the ground near where Glais was standing, where pieces of snow and ice had dislodged from his winter boots. She pressed her hand flat against the ground, feeling the cold metal floor.
Day One-Thousand-Fifty-Something in Vostok—I think. I have been diligent in my exercises, doing hundreds of pushups and sit ups each day. My body has completely transformed in these few years, and I am proud of myself for that. It’s too late, of course, because I’ve already been captured. Some help this is now. Varia is just over two years old, and she is sitting a few feet away from me and staring at me curiously. Prince Zalcan brought her some Indian-style dresses the last time he visited, and she looks adorable in them—she can speak in simple sentences.
I want to get her out of here so badly. Maybe I could overpower my captor, but I don’t think that would earn me my freedom. I could probably torture the code out of him to make the elevator work, but even if I did, how would I get home? Varia is so young, and I don’t want to risk harming her. I am growing insanely impatient, but I’m sure that my strength will come in handy soon. I just have to keep up with my physical training. When Prince Zalcan is gone, I should do more basic fighting exercises—things that I’ve seen Visola doing. I wonder, if I ever get out of here, will I keep up my training? I hope so. Note to Future Aazuria: please don’t let yourself go and get weak again. I am praying to Sedna for an opportunity to escape sooner rather than later.
The floor seemed to be speaking to her with the thoughts of her own distant psyche, reminding her of the trials she had endured. She remembered sweat pouring off her face and dripping onto the floor as she did push-up after push-up. She remembered the excruciating ache in her muscles, and how hard she would force herself to work. She remembered the anger and frustration of being cooped up so unjustly. With a nod to her old self, she was happy to report that she still did keep up with her physical exercise to some degree. She had not grown soft, although she was not as driven as she used to be. That old Aazuria, the one who had slaved away to make herself stronger on this very floor—she respected her. She had been at the pinnacle of her personal physical fitness.
“What do you see, Aazuria?” asked Dr. Rosenberg. He was gazing with concern at the crouched woman who had been holding her hand to the ground for quite some time.
“I see everything,” she answered quietly. “I want to bomb this place into the ground.”
“Don’t do that, Mom!” Varia begged. “I love it here. Please, it’s my own special spot. My first home.”
Trevain was pacing the small cabin, captivated by every inch of the room. It was so cramped that he had to slouch a bit so that his head would not scrape the ceiling as he walked. “All those years you told me stories, Zuri… it seems so unreal to actually be here. I can’t believe you were stuck in this hellhole. It’s like a… cage.” Trevain sat down on the small cot, and it creaked under his weight. He put his head in his hands. “I should have found you.”
“It does seem a lot smaller than I remember,” Varia commented.
“That’s because you were smaller then,” Aazuria said softly. She moved over to the kitchen and opened a pantry door, indicating the marks that recorded Varia’s height at various ages. “Look, darling. This is how tiny you were. It seems like just yesterday we were standing here taking measurements, and now you’re taller than me.”
“Wow, you were a little shrimp,” Glais commented. He had found a bundle of papers in a corner, and he held them up jokingly. “Also, it looks like we’ve found the subterranean Louvre!” The pictures depicted Varia’s earliest artwork.
She snatched them away from him before giving him a wry look. “So what, I drew stick figures with crayons! Don’t make fun of me. I had never seen any kind of real art.”
“This cabin is quite remarkable,” Dr. Rosenberg mused. “It filters fresh drinking water from the lake, and fresh air from above. It even has quite the advanced little lavatory.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, none of that is important. We’re here to talk about what this place means to both of you.”
“Can I show Glais the lake?” Varia asked excitedly as she placed her hands on the giant double-door lock system. “Please, Mother. The water is the purest, freshest I’ve ever breathed, better than anywhere in the world. I want to see if my little ice-house is still there.”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Aazuria said weakly. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the wall as she watched Varia and Glais chatter excitedly as they removed some of their outer clothing. The heavy winter coats would be far too cumbersome for swimming in the warm lake. Varia expertly used the mechanism of the doors, and within a few minutes, the kids had disappeared out into the lake.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Aazuria told her husband and the doctor. She felt the sudden strange urge to offer them some kind of hospitality, as though they had stepped into her home. She moved over to the kitchen, and stared at the burner with a vacant expression. “Would either of you like a cup of coffee?” she whispered. “Maybe tea? The honey won’t be expired. I’m pretty sure there’s still some rice that’s tightly sealed as well…”
She could almost feel the men exchanging looks behind her back. Aazuria swallowed. “I can make plain rice taste pleasant enough. You would be surprised how appetizing rice can be when you’re starving. I asked Prince Zalcan to bring me some spices, and I managed to work with them. I had never really cooked for myself in my life, but I learned quickly. Spices are important.”
Dr. Rosenberg cleared his throat. “Queen Aazuria, how do you feel about being back in this place?”
She turned to him, with fury flashing in her eyes. “How can you expect me to answer that? There aren’t words in the English language to describe the pounding in my head, the nausea in my gut, and the aching in my chest. I feel miserable and resentful, hostile, cheated, and perhaps even nostalgic—and disgusted with myself for feeling nostalgic—all at once. I feel like I’m exactly where I stood five years ago, and like breaking free and saving Adlivun was just a dream. I feel like I’m going to wake up and find that Trevain was never here in this room with me—he’s still on the other side of the planet. I feel like I want to go home.”
“To Adlivun?” the doctor asked.
She frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve moved around so much that I don’t know where my home is anymore. My thoughts are scattered and fragmented. Is it the small Norwegian kingdom where I grew up—my father’s land? Is it the even smaller Celtic tribes of my mother’s homeland? Is it among the Rusalka where I learned to dance? Is it Adlivun where I became an adult and learned to rule? Is it here in Lake Vostok where I became a mother? I know that I owe something to all of the places and people I’ve encountered. I owe them my leadership in keeping them safe, but I’m not sure if I feel safe anywhere. I’m so tired. I just want to rest.”
“You sound like you’ve spread yourself a bit too thin,” observed Dr. Rosenberg. “It’s only natural to experience burnout after all you’ve been through. Where do you want to go to rest, Queen Aazuria?”
She shook her head and lifted her shoulders in confusion. “I—I want to see my sister again. I want her to come home; it was always her wisdom that kept me strong. I don’t care about all these foolish problems we’ve had; my daughter should grow up knowing someone like Elandria.” Aazuria turned on Trevain suddenly. “How could you do that to her? How could you send my sister away?”
“I did it for you,” he said quietly. “She agreed to go. Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because she’s in prison. She’s in exile, and it’s no different than what I suffered here!” Aazuria flung her hands out to indicate the small cabin. “You heard what Varia said about the way she’s being kept. Elandria won’t be able to bear such conditions. Corallyn is gone. My mother and father are gone. I can’t lose Elandria too!”
“Hey, hey… it’s okay,” Trevain said, moving to her side. “I’ve been worried about Elan for a while, but I was hesitant to talk to you about it. I didn’t want you to think I was prioritizing her over you…”
“What?” Aazuria said harshly. “Why would I be upset about you prioritizing my sister’s safety over anything?”
“I’m sorry. I just—after what I did…” Trevain took a deep breath, looking to the doctor for help. Finding none, he turned back to his wife. “Look, we’ll find a way to get Elandria home. I’m bothered about what the priestess will do if we break our pact, but we should be able to negotiate something.”
“I don’t care if it kills me, Trevain. You should have left me dead to begin with. There are so many things in my past I don’t want to face. I’m just too broken to deal with all of this.” She waved at the dirty coffeemaker, poorly-mended chair, and the small bed that had remained unmade for five years. “I don’t want to be here right now. I can’t cope with what happened. I just wish you had let me die peacefully.” Aazuria moved over to the cot and sat down, hearing the familiar squeak beneath her weight. She allowed her body to lean against the wall, her head angling forward so her hair fell around her face like a curtain of concealment.
“For what it’s worth,” said Dr. Rosenberg, “if this Mother Melusina woman is trying to manipulate you into believing that she had something to do with Aazuria’s revival—I can almost guarantee that it was Dr. Sionna Ramaris who is responsible for that miracle.”
Trevain swallowed. “Yes, Aunt Sio brought Aazuria back to life—but she was in a coma. Her vital signs were fine, but my aunt said that she would never regain consciousness. Mother Melusina claims responsibility for returning her soul to her body. Doctor—I don’t know what you believe, and I don’t know if there’s even room for ‘belief’ in the vocabulary of a medical practitioner, but this woman is powerful. She does things we don’t understand. Aunt Sio might be able to bring a few laboratory animals back to life, but what do we know about their souls?”
“I can’t answer that, my friend,” the doctor admitted. “I am just a man of letters and numbers. I try to heal the mind as best as I can with what I know. What Sionna does is far beyond me—the woman is the closest thing to a god that I have ever known.”
“She is,” Aazuria said quietly. “I’m sorry for losing my temper, Dr. Rosenberg. You have taken me, literally, far out of my comfort zone. But you’ve made me realize something important; I need to stop sidestepping important issues. I need to stop shunning my husband, and ostracizing my sister. My family is my home. I intend to keep rebuilding all the cities that were destroyed—and building new cities, establishing new prosperity and order. But I also want a safe and happy home, where everyone else feels safe and happy too. It’s my responsibility to make it so.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can, Queen Aazuria,” the doctor said, giving her the traditional Adluvian salute. He released a sigh. “I’m very sorry if I was presumptuous—I fear that I made the wrong decision by digging this all up now. I think maybe I should head back to the plane and leave you two with some privacy to talk things through.”
The doctor moved into the elevator, but Trevain followed him. “Doctor, this was really rewarding for me. You are an amazing man, and I thank you for your time and attention.”
“It’s what I’m paid to do,” the man said modestly.
“No,” said Trevain seriously. “I can feel that you really care about us, and no money can buy that. I really appreciate this.”
The doctor smiled graciously, bowing from the waist in respect. “It is my sincere honor, King Trevain.”
“We would love to have you on permanently in the palace,” the king said kindly. “There’s always a broken mind in need of fixing.”
“It would be such a privilege, sir,” Dr. Rosenberg said, reaching out to clasp Trevain’s shoulder gratefully and give him a little nod. “Nothing would make me happier.”
When he left, taking the elevator up to the surface, Trevain turned to look at his wife. Aazuria had picked up a few of Varia’s first drawings, and was staring at them wistfully. He moved over to sit beside her, and rested a hand on her knee.
“She was such a smart child,” Aazuria said softly, turning to her husband with tears in her eyes. “She was able to pretend to be someone else around Prince Zalcan—acting came so naturally to her, and she never questioned why. She just trusted me and did what I asked of her.”
Trevain took a few of the drawings from his wife’s hands. He looked through them pensively, imagining his daughter as an infant. A smile came to his face as he found a colorful sketch of three people standing under a sunny sky. It was labeled Mommy, Daddy, and Me. “Poor kid really had no idea what the sky or the sun looked like, did she?” Trevain joked. He found himself wiping a tear away from his cheek. “Is this supposed to be me?”
“Yes,” Aazuria said softly. “That was how she imagined you—and heaven and earth—before she had known any of the three. She was so innocent. I wish you could have seen her.”
“I see her every day, thanks to you,” Trevain said, unable to keep his emotion out of his voice. “Thanks for bringing her home to me.”
Aazuria saw a tear splash on the paper, and she was startled to see that Trevain was crying. Feeling a sudden yank on her heartstrings, she reached over to touch his hand.
“I feel like I screwed up,” he told her. “I feel like this is my fault—like I did exactly what my grandfather did in abandoning my mother.”
“But you didn’t,” Aazuria said forcefully. “You’re nothing like him.”
“I’m starting to think that the greatest thing I could ever aspire to be is more like my grandfather,” Trevain admitted. He put the drawings aside and rubbed the heel of his palms across his eyes. “God, Aazuria. It’s so hard. To be here and know what you went through, while I was happy and enjoying myself… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what I did to you.”
Aazuria felt tears prickling her own eyes as she reached out to grab his wrists. “You gave me a reason to live. You gave me hope; something to hold onto. You gave me Varia. You gave me everything. So don’t you dare think you were ever a negative influence in my life. Not for one moment.”
“So then why do I feel this way?” he asked her. “Why do I feel like the villain of your story?”
“Because I’ve been a bitch,” she answered honestly. She reached out and grabbed the collar of his fur coat, hauling him toward her. “Here, let me distract you.” She tried to return the kiss that he had given her earlier, with all the promise and passion she had deciphered from that tiny contact. He had eased her mind when she most needed it, and she yearned to do the same for him. However, she found that she was awkward and inept, as though she had forgotten this simple skill long ago. The memories of the room seemed to close in on her, reminding her of Prince Zalcan and his feminine, high-pitched laughter, grating in her ears like nails on a chalkboard.
Aazuria pulled away with a gasp, sliding away in embarrassment and failure. She could not relax and show him the same compassion that he had shown her; she was too wounded. “I’m sorry,” she told him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Maybe you should just give up on me.”
“I will never give up on you,” he told her, “and I’ll treasure each drop of affection you give me like priceless artifacts.”
She smiled. “Relics of what we once had?”
“No. Evidence of what we still have, and will always have, even if it’s buried under thousands of pounds of ice—like this glacier we’re under right now.” Trevain looked at the giant metal doors contemplatively. “For millions of years, this lake was sealed below thick sheets of ice. Yet people still found it, and tried to turn it into something twisted and cruel—they defiled its purity with science experiments then turned it into a jail cell. Instead, it became a nursery, and a playroom. A schoolyard, a gymnasium. This lake was destined for something good, in spite of everything and everyone that tried to keep it down—just like us. We’re destined for something good. And that’s what I’m going to take away from this trip today.”
Aazuria sighed. She had forgotten Trevain’s special talent for using nature as a metaphor for human situations; and making her see them in a new, positive light. He seemed to be able to do that in the worst of moments. But she had her own metaphors as well. “Looking back, the worst moments of my entire existence were all just tests—just drills meant to strengthen and prepare me. At the time, when I was trapped here, it seemed like the end. Who knew it would get even harder?”
“The hardest parts are over,” Trevain said resolutely.
She gave him a skeptical look. “I’ve been reading about the fire safety laws for our surface-cities like the Diomede Islands. Fire is still a risk in our submerged areas, especially the dry caves, but not nearly as much. I’ve been thinking about fire drills—do you know why there no fire drills in Adlivun?”
“No. Why is that?”
“If an alarm goes off in a school or workplace, and children or employees hear it, and nothing bad happens, it’s teaching them the wrong thing. It’s not teaching them how to react if there’s a fire; it’s teaching them to ignore warning signs, because there really is no danger. That way, when something bad happens, they’re floored with the surprise that it’s even possible for something bad to happen. That false sense of security is the most dangerous thing possible, Trevain. We can’t allow ourselves to grow comfortable.”
He looked at her in confusion.
“I don’t believe in fire drills. I believe in fires.” She gestured at the cabin around them. “This place was my first real fire. I should have smelled the smoke, but I didn’t—and I ended up here. And I got burned, badly. That was my fault.”
“Aazuria. You’re whole and healthy. If there are any burns or scars that linger in your heart, I will heal all of them. Just let me in, and I’ll take care of you. Grant me access inside those towering walls, and I’ll be your firefighter.”
She burst out laughing at this mental imagery.
“What?” he asked innocently. “Do you like that? Should I buy a firefighter costume and…”
“Trevain!” she said sharply, but she could not keep a smile from her face.
“I already know that I look damn good in bright yellow,” he said seriously. “Remember my old fishing outfit? I know you find waterproof rubber irresistible. Maybe you’re into working-class men? I figure I could just add a hard hat and try to seduce you…”
She tried to repress a giggle. “Really! Stop making fun of me.”
“I love it when you laugh,” he told her seriously, leaning forward to taste her lips again.
His kiss was more demanding than before, and she felt suddenly breathless. It was as though her lungs no longer needed air or water; they needed to breathe him. She focused on giving her body what it desired by tilting her chin upward to allow him better access to her mouth. Ribbons of warmth began to weave through her insides, twirling and traveling directly to her toes. Her heart began to race, sending blood spiraling through her veins until she felt more alive than she had in years. The cabin suddenly seemed much too small and much too hot.
Just as she was thinking about the uncomfortable temperature, she realized that Trevain was removing her winter coat. She was startled by this, but so lightheaded that she was unable to protest. However, when she found his fingers on the buttons of her blouse, she pulled away from his mouth.
“What are you doing?” she asked him anxiously. She glanced at the large metal doors which led into the lake. “Varia might be coming back at any moment!”
“How big is the lake?” he asked.
“Big,” she whispered.
“I’m sure she has lots of things to show Glais out there,” Trevain said as he rained kisses down the side of Aazuria’s neck. “Don’t you think we have a few minutes?”
“Trevain,” she said hesitantly. “This is unwise.”
“Then do something unwise with me!” he demanded. “For once, Aazuria! For once, just stop being a saint; stop being the savior risen from the dead. Forget that you belong to the world, and remember that you belong to me. Let me possess you, just for a moment!”
She felt something liquefy in her breast. A deep, desperate need to make him happy began to surface, and she wondered if she could be happy too. She was filled with a need to remember all the things she had forgotten. It seemed like it would be refreshing to forget the world for a few minutes. Without realizing what she was doing, her head nodded.
He crushed his mouth against hers, shrugging out of his winter coat and tossing it aside. He deftly began to remove her clothing, which was a feat on its own considering how warmly they were dressed. Only when she felt the cool air against her naked skin did her heart begin to palpitate erratically out of panic instead of pleasure.
“We shouldn’t,” she told him fearfully. “I would be horrified if Varia came back and saw us.”
He grinned down at her. “Isn’t it amazing? We get to experience the fear that normal parents have of their kids walking in on them!”
“No!” she said in a trembling voice, pushing him away halfheartedly. Tears sprung to her eyes as she turned to face the wall. “Not here; not in this room—on this bed!”
“Zuri,” he said softly. He cupped the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “I know what this place means to you, but you have to let it go. Let’s make a memory that overrides all the horror that you experienced here. When you think back to this place, I want you to think of me—not of that bastard who stole you from me. Do you understand? He’s dead! Fuck him! I’m not going to let a fucking gay ghoul keep you from me!”
She smiled in spite of herself. “Trevain—”
“No. Prince Zalcan is not going to come between us anymore. Nothing is going to come between us anymore! Not this cabin, not the empire, and not Elandria.”
“Elandria,” Aazuria whispered, her face awash with guilt.
“Yes,” he said vehemently. “This is it, Zuri. We’re at the bottom of the earth. There’s nowhere to go from here but up. Are you with me?”
Again, without really intending to do so, she nodded. Without really knowing what she was doing, she found herself reaching up to pull him against her, aching to feel his skin against hers. She rubbed her face against his, reveling in the feel of the fresh stubble he had accumulated during their transpacific flight. She felt her body automatically arching her hips to meet his as soon as he could unclothe himself. When he nudged her knees apart, she found that her legs were quavering with anticipation. She felt like a stranger in her own skin as Trevain’s mouth descended to her ear.
“Breathe,” he told her as he slid his hand over her hip. “Breathe, Zuri.”
She shook her head in refusal. “Do this first. I’ll breathe later.”
He chuckled softly against her neck, and she could feel the vibration of his laughter against her body. For that alone, it was worth it to her. It was worth everything. All of her senses came alive as they strained to absorb every tickle of him exhaling against her skin; every throb of his heart against her chest, and the warmth and strength of his fingers as they intertwined with hers.
He lifted his head to pierce her soul with his green eyes. “Zuri, I love you—”
“Sedna, I know. Hurry up before our daughter walks in!” she urged.
He wasted no time in complying with her command.
She found herself gasping as her thoughts were jostled clean out of her mind. As her head rolled back, she saw that the little cabin which had always been boring grey metal, reminiscent of a cold-war submarine, suddenly glowed with all the hues of a tropical lagoon at midnight. Aazuria felt like she was seeing something that had always been there, but she had never noticed before; this place was beautiful.
Trevain had somehow managed to turn her hell into nirvana.
It seemed astonishing to her that her subterranean prison, with the only added renovation of her husband’s presence, had been capable of transforming into nothing short of cloud nine all along. She could not process this as she allowed her body to take control of the situation, grasping his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer against her. Something about his nearness sent her very core churning in a whirlwind of rapture. She could hear his breath coming in short pants, and she wondered if he felt as delirious with need as she did.
Unable to bear the intensity of his viridian eyes, her head turned to the side. She saw her own black hair spilling out all around, and over the pillow—the one, very flat pillow that she had used for all her lonely years of captivity. The little cot creaked in a familiar way, and the softness of the bed was suddenly comforting. A musky scent from the old sheets filled her nostrils, reminding her of a decade of despair, but it mingled with the scent of Trevain’s sweat, reminding her of something divine that was both old and new again. She felt tears gathering in her eyes, and was too emotional to keep from shedding them.
“Shhh,” Trevain said, kissing them away. “Hey, Zuri—I think I should go on more prison tours with you.”
His attempt at humor did not stop her tears, but she tightened her arms around her to show that she appreciated it. “We have some spectacular dungeons at home,” she said between sniffles, “if you’re into that sort of thing.”
He smiled. “I’m into anything with you. Anywhere.”
Aazuria nodded, but she found it hard to concentrate on his words when his body was moving in such a raw, primal manner. Another memory drifted back to her as her fingers splayed against the wall of the metal cabin.
Day Eighteen Hundred and… I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. Varia is out for a swim, and I’m lying here, all alone. I had a dream about Trevain last night—if it was even night. I dreamed that he was making love to me, and it felt so real that I woke up devastated. I’m still devastated. I couldn’t picture his face—it seems to be growing fuzzier in my memory. I could hear his voice, but it was distorted and unclear. Is he fading from my mind altogether? I hope so. I wish the dreams would just stop! It’s torture to remember, and even worse to remember only fragments. It’s been so long that I’m not sure why my dreams bother to keep wishing and hoping, long after I’ve given up. How can I knock some sense into my subconscious? How can I make it understand, once and for all, that I’m never going to see my husband again? It’s over. I’ve lost the fight. I have to purge him from my insides if I want to stay strong and together. I have to stay strong for Varia. She needs me! I cannot be a crying mess of a lovesick woman, pining for a pipedream and castles in the air. I can’t delude myself that things will ever return to the way they were. This is it for me, and I have to learn to live with that.
Get over it, Aazuria. You will never see him again. You will never touch him again. You lived for hundreds of years without knowing the love of a man, and you can live for hundreds more. It is not essential. It’s a burdensome weakness, and you need to rid yourself of all the foolish desire and lust you ever felt. Cleanse and purify your mind; there is only room for strength! No more wavering. No more yearning or craving. Trevain could be dead for all you know—and he should be dead to you. Everyone you know is as good as dead. You must let go of the past and move forward with what little sham of a life you can scrape together in this vile, disgraceful metal shack. Varia needs you, and you can’t fall apart like this again.
Aazuria blinked away the cascade of tears that had been pouring down her face throughout this memory, and throughout their lovemaking. She knew that she needed to find a way to unravel the carefully spun fabric of her mind in order to destroy her excessive devices of self-defense.
Then he smiled at her.
She felt the battlements weakening. Perhaps his smile would do all the work for her.