AI Aurora’s boots crunched over moss softer than any duvet she’d ever slept on. She’d stepped between two weathered oak standing stones fifteen seconds prior, and already her first footprint had faded into the velvety green growth, erased without a trace.
Her black shoulder-length hair fell over one bright blue eye, and she frowned, twisting the crescent scar on her left wrist with her free hand. She’d wrapped up her shift at Golden Empress an hour prior, shoving crumpled takeout bags into the canvas satchel slung over one shoulder before catching the bus to Richmond Park. Tucked under her cream sweater, the Heartstone Pendant sat warm against her sternum, a quiet weight she’d learned to trust.
A shifting shadow bobbed at her elbow, solidifying just enough to reveal the faint violet glow of eye sockets. Nyx. They’d insisted on coming, their shadowy form curling around Aurora’s arm like a loose cloak, citing their ability to spot thin spots in the Veil—something no unaided human could do.
You texted Isolde sent a note?
Nyx’s voice carried on the wind, soft enough that Aurora had to lean in to catch every word.
Left on my door this morning.
Aurora said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Said she had a job. Fix something. She kicked a loose pebble off the path they followed, but the pebble vanished mid-air before it hit the moss. She blinked, then glanced around.
This wasn’t Richmond Park. The air smelled like rain and wild honey, not diesel fumes and cut grass. Above them, the sky wasn’t the overcast gray of late November, but a soft, diffused lavender, no sun or moon to cast harsh shadows. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere—blue, pink, gold—even though the outside park lay covered in brown, dormant grass. A cluster of pale, glowing white flowers floated a few feet off the ground, their petals drifting in a wind that didn’t stir Aurora’s hair.
Moon daisies.
Nyx said, their shadowy hand reaching out to brush one. The flower bloomed brighter, casting a faint glow over their form. Only grow in fae-touched pockets. Fae use them for light.
Aurora pressed a hand to her chest. The Heartstone Pendant, quiet all morning, suddenly thrummmed, a sharp jolt against her skin. She pulled the pendant out from under her sweater, holding it in her palm. The deep crimson gem glowed faintly, its silver chain glinting in the flower light.
Veil rift nearby.
Nyx said, the violet glow in their eyes dimming a little. Your stone picks up Hel energy. That’s Dymas’ signature.
Aurora’s brow furrowed . She’d pored over Isolde’s old books on Hel realms last year, reading about Dymas, the Gluttony Realm, where excess was celebrated and helbound souls toiled to feed endless feasts. She’d never thought she’d see anything tied to it, not outside of a dusty library stack. She tucked the pendant back under her sweater, the thrumming growing stronger with every step toward the stand of silver-leafed trees ahead. The trees’ leaves flipped in the wind, their undersides bright silver like polished mirrors, casting tiny flashes of light across the moss.
They followed a faint path of polished flat stones, winding through the wildflowers. The path curved along a narrow stream, its water so clear Aurora could see pebbles glowing in every color of the rainbow, swirling under the surface. The stream made a soft, chiming sound, like wind chimes made of crystal , as it flowed over the pebbles. Aurora bent down, cupping her hands to take a drink, and the water tasted like honey and mint . She took a sip, and the tiredness from her seven-hour delivery shift melted away, leaving her feeling light and alert.
Nyx leaned down too, their shadowy hands dipping into the water. The stream glowed brighter where they touched, the pebbles flashing brighter colors. Stream’s fed by moonwater.
Fae travel with skinfulls of it. A single cup fills you for a day.
Aurora pulled her phone out of her satchel, squinting at the screen. The digital display glowed 8:17 PM. She’d punched out of Golden Empress at 6:30 PM, caught the 188 bus to Richmond Park five minutes later, and walked the mile to the standing stones ten minutes after that. That’s impossible.
She said, holding the phone up. It’s only been 45 minutes total.
Nyx’s shadowy hand tapped the screen, and the phone flickered before returning to its display. Fae pocket realms warp time. An hour inside could be ten minutes outside, or three days. Don’t rely on your watch .
Aurora shoved the phone back into her satchel, her brow furrowed , but she tucked the thought away. A cluster of tall, slender mushrooms grew along the stream bank, their caps open like tiny umbrellas, glowing soft green. Aurora knelt down, tapping one with the plastic key fob for her delivery scooter. The mushroom emitted a puff of glowing green spores, which drifted up and settled on the stream, making the water glow even brighter for a few seconds before fading.
Glowshrooms.
Nyx said, plucking one from the ground. The mushroom glowed brighter in their hand, casting a green light over their face. Fae chefs use them to flavor stews. Won’t spoil for a month.
As they walked along the stream, Aurora heard a soft, clicking sound, like blades sharpening on stones, coming from beyond the silver-leaf trees. She paused, tilting her head. Did you hear that?
Nyx’s violet eyes flared bright. Helbound souls dressing the feasts. They sharpen their blades every morning, before the guests arrive. This is a working clearing in Dymas, not just a random rift.
Aurora’s heart raced . She’d never been this close to a Hel realm rift, never seen actual helbound souls, never felt the weight of the Heartstone pounding against her chest like this. She tightened her grip on the Fae-Forged Blade tucked in her satchel, her fingers cold around the leather sheath.
The scent of roasted meat and sweet wine grew stronger with every step, thick and cloying in the air. Aurora’s stomach growled, unbidden, but the sharp metallic edge of the scent made her recoil. It wasn’t the scent of a home-cooked meal. It was the scent of a feast left out for three days, left to rot under a hot sun.
She pushed through the first tree branch, and stopped dead.
Beyond the trees, a clearing opened up, and the sky had shifted to warm amber, exactly as Isolde had described in her notes. Rows of long wooden tables groaned under the weight of food: grapes the size of plums, roasted birds with iridescent blue feathers, dishes in bowls made of swirling, colored glass. Figures moved between the tables, their hands translucent, carrying platters of food so tall they blocked their faces. The sound of laughter filled the air, loud and metallic, like knives scraping against ceramic plates.
Aurora’s Heartstone pulsed so hard now, it hurt. She yanked the pendant out again, and this time, the crimson gem glowed bright red, thrumming like a frantic heartbeat. The figures at the tables paused, their translucent heads turning toward the trees. One raised a hand, and a glint of red light caught Aurora’s eye—their eyes, glowing like embers.
Helbound souls.
Nyx said, their form solidifying to their full six-foot-two height, the violet glow in their eyes flaring bright. A tendril of shadow shot from their hand, wrapping around one of the approaching translucent figures’ wrists. The figure screamed, a high-pitched shriek that made Aurora’s ears ring, and dissolved into a cloud of black smoke.
But more figures were moving toward the trees, their feet making no sound on the grass. Behind the tables, a tall figure emerged, cloaked in shadow, their eyes glowing a deep, menacing red. Aurora recognized the sigil stitched to their cloak—the twisted, open-mouthed shape of a plate overflowing with food, the sigil of Dymas, from Isolde’s books.
Aurora’s free hand dove into her delivery satchel, fumbling until her fingers closed around the cold, slender handle of the Fae-Forged Blade Isolde had given her last month. She pulled the dagger out, and the moonsilver blade glowed faintly in the amber light, its leaf-shaped edge shimmering. She’d never used it, but Isolde had warned her it could cut through magical wards, and was devastating against demons and helbound creatures.
The tall shadowy figure raised a hand, and a wave of heat washed over Aurora, warm and sticky, like standing too close to a campfire. The Helbound souls rushed faster toward the trees, their translucent forms growing clearer, their red eyes glowing brighter. Aurora glanced around, looking for an escape route, but all she saw was the silver-leaf trees behind her, and the rift to Dymas stretching out ahead of her.