The Veiled One

Chapter Sixteen: I admire the lord of the dead's interior decorating

I thought that Sibyl's bathrooms were luxurious. It turns out I was simply wrong. The baths in the underworld are small, airy black marble rooms with gentle warm breezes blowing drapes of black silk in the air. There are pools of water of various temperatures, and steam rises from one of them. Shades in the shape of humans hiss around, making whispering noises I wish I could decipher but cannot. These are the dead, the servants of Mor. It's a little weird, but I'm getting used to it.

In a small antechamber, I slip out of my clothes and leave them hanging on pegs. I pad across the marble floor and ease myself into the hot, shallow waters of the steaming pool. My muscles, sore from traveling, unclench at the water's embrace, and a fragrance of jasmine fills the air.

A caddy of bath products appears suddenly behind me, and I reach for a bar of sandalwood soap. I scrub my hair and skin, then rummage around in the caddy until I find a sponge. I use that to work the soap into my skin better, hoping to wash away any traces of magic residue from Sibyl's magic transport. It clung like an uncomfortable mist to my skin, and the sensation is still there when I think about it too hard. I guess traveling just plain sucks no matter how you do it.

The water stays warm even though I am clearly in the bath for over an hour, soaking and thinking. I wonder where Sibyl is right now and if I am allowed to see her. I also wonder where Endor is. I know he is around here somewhere, and I know I have to find him soon. He was brave when they led him away from me, but I know that Endor wants me to be with him as soon as possible. I'm the only familiar person in this place.

I rise from the waters, and immediately a stack of towels and a dressing gown appears. I wrap my waist in the towel, then place the dressing gown over it. I look for my clothes, only to find that they have been replaced with buttery leather pants and a loose white shirt, just like Mor's. There are no shoes, and my sword is wherever my clothes are. I make a mental note to ask for it back.

I find a comb on a small ledge set before a mirror on an antechamber wall, and I proceed to comb out my hair. There is no ribbon to tie it back with, so I am forced to leave it loose. I don't like the feeling of strands tickling my neck and chin, but I don't have the time to fuss. I need to find Endor.

I leave the antechamber, striding along dark corridors that all look identical. Soon I am lost. I call Endor's name, but I receive no response. Just as I am about to give up my search, I see him at the end of the hall. He runs to me, and I wrap him into my arms.

"Endor," I murmur, tucking his wet head under my chin. With his hair loose around his face, he looks so much older. I remember when it was short for a brief while, while we made our escape from the capital. When all you could see of his face were his gaunt cheeks and wide, staring eyes, he looked so young.

"Where's everyone else?" he asks me, gesturing to the vast emptiness of the palace.

"I don't know," I reply, as confused as he. Did Mor mean to trick us? He seemed to genuinely want to help us figure out what to do with Lisentia, and anyway, I pegged him as the least douche-like of all the gods.

"Maybe they're in a courtyard or something? Somewhere through these pillars?" Endor suggests. He goes to stick a hand between two of the pillars when a voice calls, "Don't!"

Endor freezes, and I drag him away from the pillars. Mor appears in front of us, a frown on his face. "Don't ever do that again," he barks.

"Why? What's out there?" Endor asks.

"That, my boy, is the land of the dead. If you enter, you will become lost within moments. You will forget who you are and, essentially, become dead yourself."

Endor frowns. "That seems rather cruel. The stories of the underworld say it's a happy place."

"It's best that they don't remember what they've lost. It's a small mercy," Mor replies, almost so quietly we can't hear him. "And I suppose they see what they want to see. I don't know. I'll never be one of them, and I can't escape this place."