Alternate Worlds: Passages

By Taylor Leigh

Happiness and excitement is something Victoria has given up hope on in her life. Even as princess of her dusty, desert world of Scrabia, Victoria feels her life is more like that of a prisoner. Thanks to a ruthless religious sect and her distant mother controlling every aspect of her life, there isn’t much room left for adventure.
Yet when she begins to notice the markings of a dark plot, right on the tail of her dreaded announcement of arranged marriage to her cousin, Victoria’s sheltered life begins to crumble.
And then it crashes round her when the unthinkable happens and Victoria is thrown from her world to the neighbouring planet: the lush, green world of Scottorr, rumoured to be haunted and full of unimaginable evils. Alone and no longer important, Victoria’s previous problems now seem childish and her life insignificant.
That is, until she meets her saviour: Andrew O’Neill, a genius inventor who is unlike anyone she has ever encountered. Andrew is terrifying with his strange outbursts and odd behaviour, yet fascinating and irresistible. His interest in her—his greatest discovery—draws her closely into his unpredictable life.
As she begins to adjust to her new home and grow closer to her new companions, especially Andrew, her loyalties begin to shift and her homesickness and desire for her previous life grow fainter by the day.
But all is not as it seems, for there are dark and supernatural forces at work not only on her home world but creeping to Scottorr as well and she and her friends seem to be the only ones who can stop it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Taylor Leigh
• Release date: Mar 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310563607

Taylor Leigh

My name is Taylor Leigh. I live on the East Coast with my husband and two fur babies. I write mystery and children's books during the day. At night I let my imagination run wild with my deepest, darkest fantasies. I wanted to write them down and share them for the world to enjoy. When I'm not writing, my passion is baking. I would love to hear from you. You can reach me at my email [e-mail]

Book preview

Book One

Passages

By

Taylor Leigh

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter One

Victoria had locked herself in again.

The slaves had finally given up on pounding the door, begging for her to come out, deciding—perhaps rightly—that she was a lost cause. Funny, they gave up earlier and earlier these days.

Barricading herself in was becoming rather a regular habit of hers and one she wasn’t too keen on breaking any time soon. Some days she had to escape from the stifling, overbearing surroundings outside her room. If only for a little while.

She had locked herself in to escape the evening religious rituals. Being royal blood, she was technically required to attend, but she never had much stomach for it. The spore potion used for trances was revolting and the stuffy, hot darkness of the temple made her head swim. Hardly the way one wanted to end each day. So, once her lessons were over, or after she could no longer stand them, she dashed up to her room and bolted herself inside. By now, she supposed, it had become expected of her.

At nineteen, Victoria was a typical Scrabian: dark, with hair so curly, everyone, including herself, had given up on it years ago. People said she had lovely, soft eyes, but Victoria thought they contrasted with her other blockier features, making her countenance look indecisive about being stern or gentle. Still, as far as appearances went, Victoria supposed she was pretty. Not that it really mattered. But being a princess, it did certainly help to not look like a sand hound chewed her over.

With the window open, she sucked in a deep breath of hot desert air and listened to the noises of the day’s end. The distant pounding of sacrificial drums from the temples and the moaning of slaves entering the city found their way up to the Royal Layer. It wasn’t much to see. Dull, dreary, red and dusty. This is what she had to look forward to when she eventually ruled.

The view was always the same. The only excitement was the occasional dust storm or the position of the Dead World, which hung close in the sky. The Other World was growing steadily nearer, and by the calendars, it was only a couple days from the night it would share the same sky as Scrabia and violently exchange things with her world.

As Victoria stared out at the purpling evening sky it was not the nearing planet, but an airship that caught her attention. For a mad second, her heart leapt at the thought it might be her father returning home from campaign.

She chided herself for the thought immediately. Of course it wasn’t her father. He wasn’t coming home. No-one did.

Whoever it carried, the balloon approaching the city of Layers could only mean one thing—someone important was coming.

Judging by the speed of the ship, she estimated it would arrive at the palace in a matter of minutes. Victoria launched herself up from her perch by the window and dashed to her washroom, snagging the first clean thing she saw in the wardrobe on her way. If someone was coming, her mother would no doubt request her presence. Victoria didn’t get out of things like this.

Sure enough, it was not more than fifteen minutes later when a timid knock came to Victoria’s door. Victoria’s permission for the knocker to enter was rather terse. It wasn’t until the girl did not enter did Victoria remember she had locked her door. When she finally threw it open she was cross and the slave certainly picked up on Victoria’s mood as she stepped into the room. She shuffled her feet nervously and kept her eyes on the stone floor.

‘Miss? The Queen requests your presence downstairs immediately.’

‘Of course she does,’ Victoria sighed. ‘And what foul politician blew in this afternoon?’

‘I don’t know, Miss. But the Queen is in a real state.’ The girl bit her bottom lip, as if recalling just how bad the state the Queen was in.

‘Well, if Dearest Mother must have me present, what choice do I have? You can go; I can certainly dress myself. I’ll be along in a minute.’

The slave left Victoria to her dressing and soon after, Victoria was gripping the door handle to leave the comfort of her room. She took a deep breath, relishing her last few moments of peace and then plunged out into the musty hall.

Victoria swept down the all-too-long staircase, aware of how much noise she was making as she clattered down the steps in her heels. When she reached the end of her journey she let out a moan just quiet enough to keep the group below her from hearing. Her mother was standing with two people, and even from her distance, Victoria could, with much dismay, tell who they were. And it was the last two people on the planet she wanted to see—her uncle, Rovin and his son, whom Victoria was constantly at odds with, Reginald.

Even from a distance, the sight of him made her grind her teeth in frustration.

Victoria came down to stand next to her tight-lipped mother, Lucinda, who was watching her with disapproving eyes. ‘Ah, Victoria,’ her mother said in a clipped voice. ‘How nice of you to finally join us!’

Lucinda was a tall, thin woman with skin just as dark as Victoria’s and thick lips that seemed to be perpetually pulled down in a frown. Even without noticing the tall, conical crown on her head, her very demeanour gave it away; by one glance it was obvious she was Queen.

Her mother’s long hands wrung together. The only indication of her displeasure at Victoria not being perfectly on time. She never failed to find something to disapprove of when it came to her daughter.

‘Well, Mother, perhaps if you had informed me that we were expecting visitors, I could have better prepared myself!’ Victoria made sure her smile matched her mother’s quality of unpleasantness.

While Lucinda’s eyes narrowed, her face adopted a sweet quality. ‘Isn’t this a surprise? Your uncle and cousin coming so far to visit us!’

‘Yes, I can imagine that your trip from the Underworld must have been rather tiring.’ Victoria smiled at her two relatives drily.

Her uncle, Rovin, let out a humourless laugh. With his stern face and clipped black beard there was nothing amused in his features. He had a stuffy, aristocratic air about him but his style was not as regal as Lucinda’s for he sported somewhat drab, common robes. Still, back on the small patch of dust he governed, Rovin must have looked a rich sultan.

‘Ah, Victoria, always the charmer. It is always so nice leaving our uncivilised little province to tour the Capitol.’

Reginald eyed Victoria like she was something rather unpleasant to eat. He gave her a thin smile and an awkward wave. Victoria curtly nodded her head by way of greeting. An uncomfortable silence followed.

Her mother clapped her hands together a bit too loudly. ‘Well! I am sure you two are weary from your journey. I’ll have one of the slaves show you to your room and you can wash all of that dreadful dust off. Then we can meet back for dinner.’

‘I won’t complain about that!’ Rovin agreed, following Lucinda from the room.

Reginald, dressed in baggy embroidered clothes, ambled towards Victoria, watching the corridor their parents had taken. He was a stocky boy, much taller than Victoria remembered. His hair was dark, like his father’s and cut close to his scalp and his nose looked as if it had been broken a few times—which it probably had. Even if he looked tough, Victoria knew it was all an image. He was, in her opinion, nothing but a pathetic sod. It was a miracle in itself he’d survived the Trials. Victoria quietly supposed he’d probably tricked the other boys into letting him pass. Reginald wasn’t tough, but he was cleverer than she knew people gave him credit for.

‘You know what they’re up to?’ he asked quietly, dark eyes shining in the dull light. His accent, like his father’s, was thick and typical of the far eastern province he was from.

Victoria shot him a glare. ‘Up to? What are you going on about? You’re father’s just here on business, right?’

Reginald gave a heavy shrug. ‘Don’t know. Guess so. He’s been pretty vague about it. Hasn’t let me in on anything. And we never just come here this time of year, not with everything in our province going on. It’s only holidays and rot like that when we have to visit. Just thought you might know.’

‘You’re paranoid. Doesn’t matter what it is he’s here for. It’s got nothing to do with us.’ She crossed her arms.

Reginald broke into a grin and slapped Victoria on the shoulder. ‘Right, what was I thinking? Sure everything is just bright sunny days and happy smiles. Couldn’t possibly be anything to worry about!’

He waltzed away from her letting out a gleeful laugh, much too wild to be real.

Victoria felt her stomach flip as she watched him go. She absently rubbed her shoulder, brewing over the words he’d said. Nothing to worry about… She had to admit that it was odd, them being here. Reginald was rarely wrong when he thought something to be off. He had a good nose for that sort of thing. A wave of suspicion rippled through her. By now she’d learned: when it came to life in the palace, when something smelled funny, it usually was. And so that just left the question: What was her mother up to?

Victoria was not looking forward to the banquet which was to be held that night in her uncle’s honour. The only upside she saw to the whole event was that she finally would get a chance to wear her new dress—though it was hardly the occasion she was hoping for. She had wanted to set it aside for a ball, perhaps to dance with some handsome prince from a real province. Unfortunately, it looked like the banquet would have to do.

She spent her few precious hours alone reading. Books were scarce on Scrabia. The art wasn’t highly encouraged and Victoria’s library was small and something she concealed. Still, she treasured the few she had. They offered good company for the lonely, like herself. In her stories, the people always led beautiful, daring lives, so different from her own. She was almost envious.

She let out an unhappy sigh that felt too loud in the stillness. By this time in her life she figured she’d be used to being alone, but there was still a hollowness she couldn’t quite figure out how to fill. With all that Victoria had, there was still something missing. Her life didn’t feel complete. Victoria wanted to do something with her life, not just watch it roll by from a window. She wanted a point to her existence besides attending social functions, but couldn’t put a name to her desire. She didn’t know how to satisfy the answers in her head; what was beyond the walls of the city? What did it feel like to stay out with mates till dawn? What would it be like to save a life, or, the one question that she secretly ached over, to fall in love?

It was the only problem with her frequent escapes, exposing the ugly truth to just how lonely she truly was, an uncomfortable subject she did her best to ignore. Being the High Lady, daughter of the Queen and therefore princess of Scrabia, Victoria Yasim thought her life wouldn’t be viewed from a window. But sadly that seemed to be the case.

She put the book down in a huff. Sometimes, reading just wasn’t enough.

She found herself hoping that Reginald might have matured since their last meeting. Sure, he was no charming prince, but she was rather starved for company her own age. She knew it wasn’t really worth hoping, but it would have been nice.

The other royal girls, and there were very few of them, were so conceited and shallow Victoria could hardly stand to be with them. This seemed perfectly fine with them, for they had all taken the liberty of forming a pack that included every young female except for her. Normally she didn’t find this depressing, but today was different. Seeing Reginald had stirred a quiet ache in her that she’d kept still. She wanted someone to talk to, and not just pointless chatter with strangers. Conversations on politics and the weather could only go so far.

However, her loneliness wasn’t quite enough to make her want to go to the banquet. She considered her options for getting out of dinner. Feigning ill or falling down the stairs she ruled out, though if the plans were more feasible, she would gladly have toppled all the way down to the atrium. Saying she wasn’t hungry wouldn’t do any good either. She’d simply be forced to pretend. Unfortunately, her options didn’t seem that viable.

Glumly, Victoria surveyed herself in the foggy mirror. She’d managed to look presentable; she figured that would have to be good enough.

The wind was howling outside as another sandstorm blew in. One of the benefits of living at the top of the city of Layers was that most of the tornados didn’t ever reach this far up. Of course, now she wouldn’t protest too much if the palace were destroyed by the storm—it might actually be a blessing. And it would certainly liven things up.

Victoria glided down the stairs towards the dining hall, alone. The stairwell was dark and the candles that were placed along the way did little to improve the gloom. Still the storm raged outside, making Victoria shudder. Nothing was spookier than a lonely castle during a storm. She prayed silently she wouldn’t see the ghost rumoured to haunt the stairs; only that could make her all the feel worse.

She was wrong.

At the foot of the stairs the giant iron doors were being hauled open by two stoic guards. Victoria, pushing thoughts of ghosts aside, paused on the stairs in the shadows and peered down curiously. The gates weren’t often opened, especially during storms.

The blasting wind blew in a troop of red cloaked figures and Victoria felt her breath catch in her throat. She could see the shrivelled clawed hands, illuminated by the lanterns they grasped. The bright red cloaks the figures wore did little good to hide their hunched, twisted bodies. Though their faces were obscured by hoods, Victoria knew what she would see. Elongated skulls, sharp teeth, and wicked, yellow eyes. The Denizens, the recognised Children of the Gods, had arrived.

The tallest in their group Victoria recognised as Sinsetun. He was the high priest of all of Scrabia, rumoured to have been serving since Queen Feilldoria’s time. The waves of sickening power coming off of him made Victoria sway, even though he was several flights below her. She stood frozen, gulping for air, blinking stupidly at the group like a bewildered tunneller. Fear snaked through her. Why had her mother invited them here? They only arrived for proper festivals and Victoria could think of none near on the calendar. Her uncle and cousin were not so great an occasion to warrant this arrival, surely!

Two slaves approached, bowing constantly, and led the foul pack out of the foyer. Victoria sighed with relief, not sure how much longer she would have been able to stomach Sinsetun’s power without becoming ill. Drawing her shawl tighter about her, Victoria scampered down the rest of the stairs, suddenly desperate for light and human company.

Dinner’s silence could not have been more awkward if it had been planned. The clinking of metal on dishes sounded much too loud in the vast hall and Victoria felt self-conscious about every move she made.

She made a considerable effort to not look at Reginald. They hadn’t spoken since their private discussion in the hallway and she wanted to keep it that way. It didn’t help that he kept attempting to catch her eye. His words were still eating away at her, making her food taste sour. The arrival of the Denizens only did more to add to her worry. Something was up and she’d been a fool to not see it till now.

They weren’t the only ones at the table, which was a normal occurrence but bothered Victoria even more under the circumstances. Several other nobles, completely oblivious to the tenseness in the air, were chatting merrily away. Her mother was doing a valiant effort to keep Rovin involved with the discussions but Victoria could tell by the length of his responses that the talk of his small province would soon die altogether. Not many in Layers cared for life outside their city walls.

The uncomfortable atmosphere of the room made Victoria feel all the more queasy. She stared down at her broth and mushroom soup and stirred the liquid absently, no longer feeling hungry.

Her mother cleared her throat, making enough show of it to jar Victoria out of her thoughts. Victoria’s eyes reluctantly left her bowl and met Reginald’s on her way to her mother. He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. Victoria read that as: ‘Well, looks like we’ll see what all this is about now!’ She made a slight face and then fixed her attention on her mother.

‘My, I can’t remember the last time we had such a quiet dinner together!’ Lucinda said lightly.

‘Still just a bit tired from our trip, I’m afraid,’ Reginald said with ease. He leant back in his seat; the picture of relaxation, but Victoria could see something in his eyes, an uneasy flicker in them that again caused her stomach to churn.

‘Well, once you two hear what Rovin and I have to say, it should wake you right up!’

Victoria sat a bit straighter, wary.

‘As you know, the ruling history of Scrabia is a long one with a bloodline to be proud of,’ her mother began. ‘Our ancestry can be traced back three ages. That is a great a honour!’

Victoria’s scalp prickled. The heat from the unnecessary fire suddenly became more noticeable to her. She felt her pulse inexplicably quickening from nerves. Her brain ticked through possible reasons for all of the show. Nothing plausible came to mind. What was her mother getting at?

Reginald broke in. ‘We are very lucky to have the bloodline that we do, I’ll be the first to admit that. But what are you getting at, Aunt?’

‘The fact is, Regi,’ Rovin spoke up. ‘Is that you and Victoria have reached the age where it is no longer acceptable for you to be—’

‘Alone,’ Victoria’s mother finished. ‘And since that is the case, Rovin and I have agreed that it is only proper that you two be pledged for marriage!’

‘What?’ Victoria burst out.

‘Pledged?’ Reginald coughed.

The other dinner guests let out cries of delight and congratulations. Victoria was aware of her cousin trying to say something but she didn’t care. She was on her feet. ‘You can’t do that! I can’t marry him! I won’t!’ Indignation filled her. ‘How could you decide this without asking me?’

She wasn’t completely conscious of half the things pouring from her mouth, but from the look on her mother’s face, she could tell it wasn’t anything good.

‘Victoria! You will be quiet this instant!’ her mother shrieked.

Victoria’s mouth automatically snapped shut and she slumped forward in her seat, seething. Her gaze flicked over to her uncle, who was watching her sharply. Everyone at the table was. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

Reginald was staring into his glass of wine, which Victoria noticed trembled slightly. He looked to her mother. ‘You are right, this news is…rather unexpected. Forgive us for not being as…enthusiastic as we should. It’s just a surprise. Once Victoria and I have time to think over what this means we’ll hopefully be able to make up for our disgraceful behaviour.’ His eyes darted to Victoria meaningfully. She fantasised about leaping across the table at him with her dinner knife. Surely she couldn’t make the situation any worse after her outburst.

‘Well, at least one of us is reasonable!’ Lucinda said tightly, fixing her daughter with a murderous stare. ‘Now, the other matter which we must discuss is how we are going to announce your pledging. We have planned a ball for the announcement. It will be the most ideal setting to present you both to the public, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘I want gladiator fights,’ Victoria said before Reginald could even think of forming a reply. As miserable as she felt, she wouldn’t mind some violence. Watching a bunch of men hacking themselves to pieces would do her mood some good. Perhaps she’d be able to envision Reginald as one of them.

Reginald looked rather green at her choice. ‘This announcement is supposed to be something happy; gladiator fights are all well and good in their place, but not for a wedding announcement. Besides, those who go to the fights have no interest or patience to listen to announcements. They’ll be too distracted waiting for the games to start. A scheduled ball would be a more ideal setting.’

Victoria swore she was going to kill him. She hoped her eyes conveyed that.

‘How sensible,’ Rovin purred.

‘I’m glad you approve. It’s all been set! How exciting! There hasn’t been a ball in the castle in so long, I can’t even remember!’ Lucinda stood with a dreamy look on her face. She swayed slightly as if all of the plans in her head weighed her down. ‘If all goes well, by this time tomorrow the biggest party of the century will take place in the palace!’

Tomorrow? Victoria thought in a panic. It was so soon! How long had her mother been plotting this? How had she not known?

The other nobles at the table clapped in delight and stood with the Queen.

Reginald laughed. ‘Biggest party? At least until the wedding!’

Victoria couldn’t believe him!

Her mother practically floated out of the room with her guests following behind her. Rovin, who clearly didn’t care for the company of his son and niece, made a hasty departure as well.

As soon as they were gone Reginald’s face changed. He slumped back into his seat with a demeanour so weary he seemed to have aged ten years. He didn’t look at Victoria.

‘What was all that rubbish about?’ she demanded.

He played with his fork. ‘What?’

‘You didn’t even put up a fight! Just let them go through with this as if you want it to happen!’

Something inside Reginald snapped at that. ‘Do you really think I want to marry you? Do you think I want any of this?’ His voice was a quiet hiss. ‘My life is over if this happens, but throwing a big fit like a child isn’t going to do us any good!’

‘Well it’s better than making jokes and laughing about how wonderful it’ll all be!’ Victoria’s voice rose in pitch. She cast a furtive glance towards the hallway to make sure no-one was coming.

‘If we don’t act mature, how will they take any argument we make seriously? Are you even capable of thinking into the future?’

Victoria stood to her feet. ‘Don’t you talk down to me, gorr rat! There is no way I’m going through with this and I’m not going to be playing your little games, going along with all these plans like everything is just perfect. I’d rather be dead than live with you for the rest of my life!’

Reginald glowered up at her. ‘Believe me, the feeling’s mutual.’

There was nothing left to say. Victoria didn’t want there to be. And so, with mind whirling, she left her cousin where he was still sitting. Leaving whatever reply he might have been thinking of stopped on his lips.

Chapter Two

Locked back in her room, Victoria was out on her small balcony curled up in a chaise, stroking her cat, which was desperately trying to escape. Panic and rage tossed about in her mind like wind-blown sand. She couldn’t focus on any solid thought, just a blind horror at her impending doom. Being forced to marry her cousin. Becoming his wife. Doing the things that a wife was expected to do. Being an obedient servant to him. It made her shudder.

She stared out across the city. It was far from quiet, even though it was late. The lower layers, very distant below her, were still bustling with people going about their lives. She felt a twinge of jealousy towards them. They had no rules, no arranged marriages. They simply lived.

A quick pounding came from her door. Victoria jumped and the cat on her lap seized its opportunity to escape.

She eyed the door irritably. ‘Who is it?’

Honestly, did no-one around here understand the meaning of locked doors?

‘Reginald! Let me in, will you?’ came a muffled reply.

‘Go away!’ she snapped, slinking back into her chair in anger.

Silence for several ticks. She let herself relax slightly.

‘I really want to talk.’ Reginald’s voice came from the door again.

Victoria let out an exasperated breath and threw her head back against her chair. ‘You’re not going to leave, are you?’

‘Well, it depends how long you expect me to stay out here.’

She sighed hatefully and got up to let Reginald in. He seemed a bit surprised when she finally jerked the door open.

‘Thanks,’ he said, slipping inside before she could slam it again.

Victoria swept back to the balcony, ruffled. ‘What do you want?’ She felt more hostile than Victoria realised she should have. Reginald hadn’t been in on this, and yet, doing anything that felt like submitting to him was too much of a reminder of things to come.

‘They just announced publicly that the ball will be tomorrow,’ he said awkwardly.

Victoria glowered down at the city below her. ‘Perfect.’

‘I’m not going back home,’ he said. ‘I’m staying here till the wedding. They decided that.’

Victoria stared out past the city, towards the Bone Vault, trying not to listen to him. He went on anyway.

‘I’ve got a girl back in my province. I told her I’d see her in a few months. We wanted to get married. Her name is Selinia. I’m not ever going to see her again.’

Victoria raised her eyes to the sky. The Dead World was very close. It was only two nights till the Passing, when the pull from the world would be so strong it would yank rocks and anything else not tied down up into the sky. It was mandatory for everyone to be inside when that happened. She had a mad moment where she wished it would pull her up, away from all of her troubles.

‘What do you have to lose from this marriage, Victoria?’

He sounded slightly desperate. She couldn’t tell if he wanted comfort or some understanding from her. Perhaps he wanted to prove that she was much more selfish than he was. She clawed at the stone railing of the balcony, trying to think of something legitimate. She had no lovers to leave behind; nothing would truly change about her life. It would be the same as it was now, except someone else would be there to share her loneliness. It wouldn’t be just her now.

‘Freedom,’ she said brokenly. It was a lame excuse. She had about as much freedom now as her slaves.

Reginald nodded. He didn’t laugh at her weak reason. Victoria watched him walk to the edge of the balcony and lean over. ‘I guess the older we get the tighter the leash becomes.’

The cat that had escaped Victoria jumped up on the balustrade and walked over to him. Reginald stroked its face.

‘I’m going to have to leave after the ball,’ Victoria said.

Reginald glanced at her questioningly.

‘Royal girls have to make the Journey. Half of them don’t make it. I have to leave the city walls and walk to that temple.’ She pointed to a small structure far away on the top of a thin ridge.

Reginald gaped back at her in shock. ‘They send you outside the city walls? Alone? Who thought that up?’

Victoria shrugged. ‘Someone with a sick sense of humour, I guess. It’s to prove how strong we are. Like the Trials you boys go through.’

Reginald shuddered. ‘Glad that’s behind me.’

They both gazed out at the temple. A fire from it was flickering, making the whole structure glow red.

‘Maybe I just won’t come back.’

He turned to her, ‘Hey, don’t talk that way! You can’t leave me here. Who knows who they’ll set me up with then!’ He smiled, uncharacteristically gentle.

Victoria smiled back, weakly.

‘So,’ he looked back out at the temple, ‘how long of a walk is that?’

‘I’m not sure. A long day. A very long day.’ Victoria slumped against the railing, cupping her chin in her hands.

Reginald watched the sky. ‘Better hope you get there before the Dead World gets too close!’ They listened to the sounds of the city. Animals bellowed. Faint strains of laughter reached them. Music drifted here and there. It was so alive compared to the castle.

‘Hey,’ Reginald said after a few long minutes. ‘What’s that?’

Victoria glanced at him in confusion. ‘What?’

Reginald straightened, suddenly excited. He pointed up at the sky. ‘What’s that? There!’

Victoria stared up at the sky, seeing nothing. Carefully, she followed Reginald’s finger, to the surface of the Dead World and finally saw what he’d noticed. Black dots. They blended in perfectly with the night so Victoria didn’t see them at first, but she saw them now, at least twenty of them, large bulky black shapes drifting up to the sky from the Bone Vault.

‘Those are going to the Dead World,’ Victoria breathed. ‘What are they?’ She turned to her cousin, hoping for some sign of understanding across his features. Unfortunately, he looked just as baffled as her.

Reginald’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know.’

She began counting again. Too many questions started spinning through her head at once. ‘There’s so many! Who could be sending them? Why would anyone want something to go there? Does anyone even live there? I thought only the dead haunted there.’

Reginald watched more of the shapes drifting up away from the desert. He lowered his voice dramatically. ‘Maybe the dead are receiving them.’

Victoria felt sick. ‘That’s impossible!’ Her voice faltered.

Reginald shuddered. ‘I’m serious! What if it’s some message to the dead? It could be an offering for them.’

Victoria jerked back. ‘Message to the dead? Don’t be ridiculous!’

Reginald shrugged. ‘Sorry.’ She watched his brows pull down as he frowned. ‘Don’t you think we should tell someone about this?’

Victoria looked back out at the strange floating shapes. ‘If we bring it up, they’ll bombard us with questions. I doubt we’re the only ones who’ve seen this. If someone is sending something up to the Other World then someone would have to know; my mother would know!’

Reginald smiled grimly. ‘Well, if we needed any more proof, that’s it.’

Victoria grimaced. ‘What’s it?’

‘Big things are happening.’

Victoria rolled out of bed, bleary eyed the next morning. She could tell by the sun that it had been up for some time. Waking up late never put her in a good mood and when she remembered what they day would bring, her mood grew even worse. By the end of the day she would have to begin thinking about the ball. And with that, the end of her life. Or close enough.

Soon the entire city would know the announcement her mother had made last night. There was no escape then, but she still had time. Victoria had been formulating desperate plans late into the night. After her little explosion at the dinner table she doubted her mother would listen to her, but it was certainly worth a try. She wasn’t giving up without a fight.

The palace was quiet that morning as she crept down the dark hallways. She tried to avoid people when she saw them. Any of those happy, congratulating smiles made her feel sick. She doubted any of them would feel so happy if they had to marry their sorry sod of a cousin.

Finding anyone in the palace was usually a challenge, but luckily her mother kept a semi-regular schedule. By the markings on the various sundials placed in the open carved windows, Victoria knew where her mother was. It was the last place she wanted to go.

After several long flights of stairs and dark passageways, Victoria found herself standing outside of the palace’s temple. If she went inside, there was a good chance she’d get roped into staying for the whole ritual. She debated waiting for her mother to emerge, but there was no promise that was going to be any time soon. The ceremonies were notorious for lasting hours if the trances were good and the message was stirring. There was nothing else for it; she’d have to risk going in. There was always the excuse of needing to use the lavatory to escape. She’d used it plenty of times.

Victoria slid behind the heavy curtain and tried not to breathe. The smoke and glowing yellow spores drifting in the air instantly brought tears to her eyes. It was a tangible cloud of clinging sickened darkness, shoving its way down her throat.

She hated being here.

There was no-one in the small room, which she found unusual, since there always seemed to be several priestesses lurking about. She did not complain. They were a strange lot. Unfortunately, that meant her mother was not inside either, which didn’t help Victoria’s situation.

She was about to make a quick escape back the way she’d come when she heard a voice echoing from behind one of the curtained passages in the wall. With some hesitation, she slipped inside. The narrow tunnel wound to eventually open out into a dark, cavernous space. The throne room. Victoria had always hated how close the two rooms were together; the smell always drifted through the curtains.

The room had no light except for a soft blue glow and the cloth shades were drawn over the windows. If the tunnel hadn’t opened out close to the throne, Victoria would have had a spot of trouble finding it. She tiptoed up to the throne and shook Lucinda.

‘Mother!’ she hissed.

Lucinda jerked as if asleep. ‘Victoria! What is it?’

‘Can we talk?’ Her eyes flickered down to the chalice of spore potion her mother was holding. It made her want to gag. She didn’t know how her mother could swallow the stuff, but Lucinda had always been rather addicted to it.

‘Can it wait?’ her mother asked through clenched teeth.

Victoria raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Will I see you before tonight?’

‘Victoria, I don’t know! Be still! If this is about the announcement, I don’t want to hear another word. I’ll never recover from the humiliation you brought upon me last night!’ She pressed a hand to her eyes theatrically.

‘Oh please, everyone’s already forgotten about it. All you worry about is your stupid pride. Well, my whole life is at stake!’

‘Don’t be so dramatic. I had to go through this with your father, as did my mother and her mother.’

‘Well, I’m not going to!’ Victoria wasn’t sure exactly where in the conversation things had taken a bad turn. She was finding she wasn’t very good at being calm in these types of situations.

Her mother reached over and grabbed her arm. ‘You will do exactly as you’re told, young one! You’re no different than the rest of us. Now I suggest you go and get ready for your big announcement tonight!’ Lucinda offered her daughter a sickly sweet smile.

She reached forward and patted Victoria’s cheek and as Victoria jerked back she noticed a new, beautiful red ring wrapped round her mother’s finger. She caught her mother’s wrist in her hand and stared at the strange, glittering stone encircled by two little golden dragons. ‘Where did you get that?’

Lucinda pulled her hand free. ‘Sinsetun presented it to me. Maybe if you behave yourself I’ll let you wear it sometime.’

Victoria was about to snap a reply when brilliant red light illuminated their surroundings. She turned her gaze towards the centre of the room. The sight awed her.

Sinsetun stood with arms wide, holding a large staff adorned with a shining blue ball. Both priest and staff reminded her of artefacts of the Dark Times, they were so ancient. Maybe they were. Above him were two giant rotating balls, one blue, one red. They shimmered and revolved around each other slowly, impossible and beautiful. Victoria completely forgot her conversation with her mother once she saw it.

Sinsetun began to speak, his voice a hiss. ‘The Dead World has remained dormant for many years.’ The blue ball rotated towards Victoria and her mother and expanded. ‘But it is no longer.’

Lucinda shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

‘The dead have seen our world and covet it. They wish to return to where they once lived and breathed. While even I cannot see what they are planning, they are already on the move. The Passing of the worlds is always a dangerous time, but never before have we been attacked. Things are different now. They are growing in power. If we do not do something soon, we will be at war.’

The floating blue orb bubbled and smaller blue spheres budded away from it and began floating down and into the red orb. Victoria watched, mouth wide open. It was like what she’d seen last night, but in reverse.

‘What is that?’ Lucinda asked in fascinated horror.

‘We have not figured it out yet,’ Sinsetun said thoughtfully. ‘We are working hard to discover what they are. Until then, I suggest you ban everyone, including all soldiers, from the Bone Vault.’

Her mother took a deep drink of spore potion. ‘Of course. I leave the entire situation in your hands.’

Victoria eyed her mother with a frown. She wanted to point out that Sinsetun had it backwards. Things weren’t floating down, they were floating up! Yet something told her not to mention it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which way the pods were floating, if Sinsetun had spotted them, he knew they were floating up, so why distort the fact? And, if someone was sending up pods to the Other World, wasn’t that an act of war? Shouldn’t they be stopping whoever was down at the Bone Vault sending them up instead of banning people from going there? Did he want a war?

As much as Sinsetun unnerved her, she couldn’t keep quiet. ‘What are you planning on doing about it?’

Sinsetun looked at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected her to be there. He ground his sharp teeth, bright eyes glowing in the darkness. ‘We are working on the problem.’ He bowed his elongated head to her and then turned away.

Some answer.

‘Victoria. Leave us. You’ve lost your privilege coming to these meetings after all the ones you’ve skipped.’

Victoria nodded, glad to be gone. She cast one more look at the blue orb and then swept out of the room.

Chapter Three

It seemed as if every important person on Scrabia had been invited to the ball. Celebrities, politicians, lords and ladies, they had all arrived. The only group that seemed to be absent were the Denizens, but considering their ways, Victoria doubted they would ever attend a social function like a ball. How she envied them.

Victoria and Reginald were currently hidden behind two large doors that would open onto the dance floor once they were announced. They’d both fought for the best spot to peer through the crack and now Victoria was watching the crowd with a quiet growing panic.

She watched as a throng of gladiators was ushered in, gleaming in ornamental armour. Marus the Great—the best gladiator ever to fight—was, as usual, surrounded by a pack of admirers. He appeared to be the only one completely at ease in the fancy environment. A big, charming grin was across his face as he joked and laughed. Victoria found herself fascinated that such an attractive person could exist. It was obvious he was the life of the party, and rather used to it. All the others looked as if there were a million other places they’d rather be. Victoria could sympathise.

Seeing such bold, extravagant guests made her all the more panicky. She shrank away from the doors, bumping into Reginald. There were so many people out there!

He grabbed her arm. ‘Whoa, calm down!’

She shoved back to the door, her eyes darting wildly to scope out a secluded table. Reginald still had an iron grip on her arm, something she didn’t want to be bothered with at the moment. She jerked free from his grip. ‘Do you mind? You’re not my keeper!’ she hissed between gritted teeth.

‘Aren’t you forgetting something? We have to dance!’ Reginald peered out through a crack above her. ‘Alone in front of all those people…So try not to mess up, okay?’

Victoria felt sick. The crowd out there was impressive, considering what short notice the ball had been. She knew how to dance, sure. But her tutor had none too gently encouraged her to stick with art or maths. She was good at those. Dancing? She bet the gladiators could do better than her.

‘Try not to mess up? You said you couldn’t dance that well either!’

‘Keep your voice down!’ Reginald furtively glanced at the door again. With the noise the crowd was making Victoria doubted they were in any real danger of being overheard. ‘I’m going to do my best out there and it will be a lot easier if you’d try as well!’

Victoria swayed. She gripped the front of Reginald’s tunic to keep herself steady. Nerves were pounding at her stomach, forcing her heart to beat at a sickening rate. The pulse in her throat became claustrophobic, suffocating her. ‘I’m going to be sick on you now, I think.’

Reginald looked up at the ceiling. ‘For Skall’s sake, why are you so nervous? You managed to draw quite a bit of attention to yourself over dinner, why is this any different?’

‘I was mad then! I didn’t care.’

Reginald shrugged. ‘So get mad now. Don’t care what those buggars out there think!’

Victoria stared up at him and smiled slightly, despite feeling ill. ‘Fine. Let’s just get this over with! One dance and then we’re through.’

Reginald nodded. ‘Agreed.’

They waited in tense silence for a moment longer and then, much too soon, their names were announced. The doors pulled open and Victoria and Reginald were suddenly the centre of attention. He reached forward and grabbed her hand. Maybe to keep her from considering making a run for it.

The room was brightly lit with brilliant colours. Countless men and women, with hair and makeup more dramatic than Victoria had ever seen, were crowded off to opposite sides of the room, leaving the centre intentionally open, like some gaping, colourful sore. At the head of the room sat Victoria’s mother and uncle. Lucinda gave Victoria a warning look when their eyes met. Victoria got the message: if she caused a scene, she’d permanently regret it. She made a face and whipped her gaze away before Lucinda had a chance to respond.

The crowd broke into applause on their arrival and Victoria grimaced as Reginald turned her round in a small circle, waving to the crowd. He bowed and shook hands and generally charmed the entire room. Victoria, after some fierce, prompting whispers from Reginald, managed to greet their guests as generously as she was capable of. She knew it didn’t come off quite as genuine as Reginald’s entrance, however. Her reputation was already too far gone at this point, she decided.

The instruments broke into a traditional wailing Scrabian melody.

‘Just follow my lead,’ Reginald whispered in her ear.

Victoria bit her lip and obeyed, eyes wide. She was bewildered through most of the dance as they spun and waltzed. Victoria knew she wasn’t elegant and was making a fool of both herself and her partner, but Reginald didn’t seem concerned with it. By the look on his face he appeared just as desperate to get through the dance and out of the spotlight as she did. His grip on her was tight and sweaty.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the dance ended and the rest of the guests swept onto the floor. Victoria broke from Reginald’s grasp before the last notes had finished their drone and made a bee-line for the farthest table she could spot. She noted irritably the group of giggling girls who had lined up to ask Reginald to dance. She rolled her eyes, glad to be free of it all.

Victoria slumped back in her chair and watched the madness in seclusion. It didn’t take her long to become lost in deep brooding thoughts about the mysterious pods and, more importantly, her near future. The people spinning on the floor made her dizzy. She plucked at a few loose threads on the embroidered cloth covering the table and watched as Reginald was subjected to yet another dance. He hadn’t escaped from the crowds fast enough. Their eyes locked briefly and he gave her a wide-eyed look of misery. She couldn’t help but grin at that.

Her eyes continued roving the room.

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, Victoria felt a strange, disturbing sensation hit her. The hairs on her neck rose. She had a wild urge to back into a corner, out of sight, away from whatever this imposing outside source was. She searched the crowd in growing apprehension. She had never felt the feeling before, but she knew what it was: witchcraft. Someone was fixing their complete attention on her, and wanted her to know. She clenched her teeth in frustration. There were so many people it was hard to get a fix on where the sensation was emanating from.

Then her eyes settled on it. At the far end of the room was another hidden table, like hers. Someone was sitting in the shadows, dressed in black, so Victoria almost took the figure for a shadow as well. Victoria watched the person for a long moment, but the figure made no move to acknowledge her. Just kept staring. Like a ghost. Something that wasn’t really there. The feeling didn’t leave Victoria, only seemed to intensify now that she’d spotted the source. She shuddered. Magic wasn’t common among people, and though the sense didn’t feel menacing, it was constant, like a tugging at her hair. Of course, the chance of the sense truly being magic was almost completely improbable. Maybe she was just paranoid, overreacting.

‘I’ve finally gone mad,’ she sighed to herself and flopped back in her chair.

She glanced away somewhat reluctantly and spotted a handsome, blond gladiator looking her way. Their eyes locked and Victoria felt a slight flutter in her stomach she couldn’t control. Gladiators were absolutely off-limits, but he was attractive, even from a distance, and she couldn’t help it. Much to her dismay and nerves, he started towards her.

Victoria watched him apprehensively as he came up. She wasn’t able to stop herself from taking in his bold muscles and strong jaw. He clearly noticed her looking him over and she grimaced inwardly at what she realised must have been rather blatant curiosity.

‘It seems a shame that a woman as beautiful as you should be sitting alone,’ he said as he sidled up.

Victoria gaped, shocked by his words. Gladiators weren’t usually schooled on the proper etiquette of social gatherings, but to approach the Queen’s daughter so boldly! She didn’t know if she was appalled or impressed. Even though his approach was completely inappropriate, he appeared completely at ease.

More shocking still, the gladiator sat down heavily. ‘I’m not much for crowds,’ he confided. ‘I prefer a more…intimate setting.’

Victoria, still overcoming her shock, bobbed her head slowly, but words failed her.

‘The name’s Assad, you’ve probably seen me fight in the arena. Marus is my mentor.’ Assad had a way of purring his words, they flowed together like silk.

Victoria finally managed to regain control of her tongue. She managed to say, ‘No doubt you know who I am, though I must say, you are awfully bold to come up to me in such a manner.’

Assad grinned. ‘When your life is short, you have to be bold. Life has no interest, otherwise.’

Victoria couldn’t really argue with that. ‘I’m surprised you all got invited to this party, no offense. I just don’t see you all out that often.’

Assad shrugged. ‘It’s a joyous celebration. We all get to join in on the fun.’ His words were subtly sarcastic. ‘Besides, I believe I heard a rumour you requested to see the gladiators for your wedding announcement. We’re flattered.’

How did he hear that? Victoria raised her gaze. ‘Right. So are you all going back to your cages after this or do you get free reign over the town for a while?’

Assad’s mouth pulled down at what she realised must have been insulting. ‘Actually, we’re turned loose tonight, so watch out; the town could be torn apart by tomorrow!’

‘I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised,’ Victoria mused. ‘Strange things always happen on the eve of the Passing. I’ll probably be cursed for having my marriage announced at such a time.’

‘Cursed or blessed? The Passing is said to be a time of passion and inexplicable events.’ He lowered his voice to a confidential purr. ‘Have you heard about the pods?’

Victoria felt a sliver of suspicion run through her. His bold approach was suddenly making more sense. ‘The pods?’

Assad leant in closer; she felt her face flush from the sudden invasion of her private space. She could see flecks of green in his blue eyes. ‘From the Dead World.’

Victoria nodded. ‘I saw them coming down last night.’

She decided not to mention the fact that they were going up, not down. He must have just heard through rumours, otherwise he’d know.

Assad looked disappointed at her lack of information. ‘Sounds like you lot are just as much in the dark as the rest of us.’

Victoria rested her elbows on the table. ‘Perhaps we’re just not that keen on sharing some information with young gladiators.’

Assad’s eyes glinted. ‘I think you’re much more keen than you want to admit.’ He trailed off suggestively. ‘Well, if you are really as in the dark as you say you are, I’ve got a suggestion for you, if you know how to keep a secret.’

She couldn’t help but be intrigued. She raised a thin brow questioningly.

Assad moved in even closer. She could feel his breath against her cheek now. ‘A few friends of mine are going to trek down tonight to get a look at those things, see what’s inside of them. Could be rather an adventure…’

Victoria was once again shocked by his boldness. It was such an improper invitation she could not begin to know how to reply. As brash as he was, Assad’s invite was strangely tempting. She had never in her life been invited to something as daring as that. The idea gave her chills. Running off with a gladiator the night her wedding was announced, how scandalous!

‘I don’t know. I’m usually locked up in my own cage around then.’

Assad’s eyes darted over to Reginald on the dance floor. ‘Ah, yes. No doubt the impropriety of the affair would bring eternal shame to your future husband.’

Victoria rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, please. Don’t worry about him. I would love to come, but there’s no way out of the palace at night.’ She winced. ‘Sorry.’ She was surprised by her disappointment with her answer.

He looked slightly crestfallen. ‘Well, it was certainly worth an asking, even if nothing could come of it.’

She let out a breath. ‘Believe me; I’d rather go with you than be stuck here.’

A wry, mischievous grin pulled at his lips.

‘Assad?’ a cold voice said above them.

A shadow crossed their table. Victoria and Assad both glanced up in surprise to see Marus. The gladiator was strong, powerful and steely eyed. It was little wonder he was captain of the group. Victoria didn’t blame all the women—and quite a few men—falling weak in the knees over him. There was plain evidence of this in the form of several random tokens from women stuck in his jacket and a young, dapper man close to his arm.

‘Marus! How’s the party?’ Assad asked nervously, his smooth demeanour disappeared, as if into smoke.

Marus’s dark blue eyes narrowed. ‘Just fine. Will you come with me?’

‘Well, I…uh…’ Assad cast Victoria an unsure look.

Marus’s eyes shifted to Victoria. They shone in the firelight. ‘My apologies, M’lady. He does not know his place.’ He dipped his head slightly, causing dark hair to fall across his face.

Victoria looked down at the tablecloth, inexplicably intimidated. ‘It’s okay. Nice meeting you.’

When she looked back up, both Marus and Assad were gone. She let out an exasperated groan and slumped back in her chair. Reginald cast her another look from across the room, at the centre of a packed circle of fans. He raised his eyebrows to ask how she was. She gave him a tight smile in answer. He nodded, sympathetic.

She needed to get out of here.

‘Don’t mind him,’ a silky voice said.

Victoria jumped violently. She whirled round to see the black clad figure who’d been watching her earlier now standing next to her. She could tell the person was a woman, but all she could see were the woman’s bright grey eyes and white skin from behind her veil. Now that Victoria was facing her, there was nothing threatening about the woman, other than the feeling she had experienced before, but it nonetheless took a good deal of restraint to keep from shouting for the guards.

‘Who, Marus?’

The woman nodded and sat down without an invitation. ‘He’s got an understandable grudge against the Royal Family.’

Victoria frowned. She was not in the mood for a lecture on gladiator rights. ‘Who are you?’

The woman shrugged slightly. ‘I’m many different people, depending where I go. You can call me Arkron. I’ve been watching you for a while.’

Victoria shifted uncomfortably. ‘Oh? Why?’

‘You’re an important person,’ Arkron said, leaning back in her chair. ‘And your life is about to change.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Victoria grumbled. She inwardly braced herself for the impending speech on the trials of marriage.

Arkron’s eyes smiled. ‘What do you know about the Dead World?’

Victoria blinked, surprised by the subject change. ‘It’s full of our dead, they haunt it. It’s the other world, but not where the gods are.’

My, the topic was quite popular this evening.

Arkron nodded. ‘Figured as much. The Dead World isn’t what you think. Have you seen the pods?’

Victoria narrowed her eyes. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘They aren’t what they seem either. They’re connected to this world, very closely. Tomorrow when the Passing occurs, poisonous gifts will send things into unstoppable motion.’

Victoria stared at Arkron suspiciously. ‘What are you, a priestess?’

Arkron chuckled. ‘Not exactly. But I would keep my eyes close on that group, if I were you.’

Victoria stood up hurriedly, the chair scraped loudly behind her. ‘Right, well, it was nice speaking with you.’

She cast her gaze round for the nearest guard. She was quite certain this woman hadn’t been invited.

Arkron smiled from her seat. ‘Do not be so quick to reject friends, or to judge. You will regret it in the end.’

‘Okay, thanks…’ Victoria sidled away and noticed a guard. She jerked on his cape. ‘Hey, who let the nutter in who’s sitting at my table?’

The man looked at her in confusion.

Victoria pointed back to her table. ‘She’s right—’

But Arkron was gone.

Victoria blinked in surprise. ‘Ugh. Never mind. I’m going to bed.’

There was no hope of falling asleep; Victoria discovered that rather quickly. After milling about her room for a good few hours, listening to the distant party music and trying to read, Victoria accepted that she didn’t have a prayer of sleep any time soon. The upcoming days were enough to frighten any rest away from her, not to mention all the strange conversations she’d taken part in recently. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to happen, and it clung about her like a cloak, making concentrating on anything—or relaxing—next to impossible.

Her stomach growled impertinently. She realised miserably that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She’d skipped the banquet after the ball and now, hours later, she was beginning to regret it. Her stomach grumbled again. There was nothing for it. She had to raid the castle’s larder. The party had to be over by now. It should be safe.

It wasn’t a first for Victoria. Often she locked herself away before dinner in protest of whatever her mother was doing she disagreed with. Unfortunately, going hungry was not something Victoria was familiar with and she had become rather an expert at raiding the storeroom over the years. The thought of all of the good food made by their brilliant chefs had her out of her bed and down the hall in moments.

The castle was quiet, but as Victoria crept past the front gates, she heard a stifled commotion that broke the standard stillness.

‘Get out of here, boy!