“And I also smell death,” he added. “Your body. It’s dying.”
“What the fuck?” I gasped, pulling on my hand.
Nektas held on. “You’re actively dying, Sera. The Culling is killing you. You know that.”
“I do.” I took an even deeper breath. “But having you say that when I’m under a mountain and can’t see shit puts it in a whole different perspective.”
“I don’t see how.”
“Probably because you can see, and you aren’t actively dying.”
“Good point.” He paused. “My apologies.”
“Gods,” I muttered. A moment passed with only the sound of our steps. “Do I smell bad to you?”
Nektas laughed.
My eyes narrowed. “There’s nothing funny about my question.”
“Yes, there is,” he said. “Death does not smell bad. It carries the same scent as life but weaker. Lilacs.”
Lilacs.
I’d smelled that before. Stale lilacs. I wondered if Nyktos could smell that on me. I stopped myself from asking that. I’d rather him think I smelled like a summer storm—whatever that smelled like.
We continued on in the tunnel for some time, and I didn’t think we walked straight. I was about to ask if Nektas was lost when I heard the sound of water and then saw a pinprick of light that steadily grew larger. Sunlight, thank the gods. Soon, I could see Nektas in front of me.
His steps slowed. “Stay right there.”
“I don’t know where you expect me to go,” I replied as he let go of my hand.
“Who knows with you?” He hopped down. “Someone turns their back on you for a few seconds and you run off.”
“I do not.”
He turned from below, offering his hands. I took them instead of kicking him. He helped me down, the drop several feet. The air was significantly warmer here and humid. Much sweeter. I took a step and immediately saw why. Thick branches smothered with lilacs snaked along the floor, climbed the walls of the cavern, and spread across the ceiling, nearly choking out the light coming through the opening above.
“That’s a whole lot of lilacs.” I looked around. “Is that why death smells like lilacs?”
“I don’t know why death smells like that, but lilacs are special. They represent renewal, and both life and death are that—a renewal.” Nektas roamed forward. “If you ever see lilacs like this near water in the mortal realm, you can be assured that you’re near a gateway to Iliseeum—to Dalos, in particular.”
I thought of my lake. “And if there are none?”
“Then the gateway likely leads to the Shadowlands,” he said. “There it is.”
Sidestepping Nektas, I saw a rocky outcropping that rose to about the height of my waist, forming a jagged circle that was roughly the size of Nektas in his draken form. The waters of the Pools of Divanash were still and clear as we approached them.
“So, what do I do?” I pressed my hands against the basin. “Just ask where he is?”
“Sort of. It will require a drop of your blood.”
“Just a drop?” I reached down between the halves of my cloak and unsheathed the dagger from my thigh.
“Only a drop,” he advised. “But you also have to give it something not known to others.”
Gods. I’d forgotten about that part. I frowned as I stared at the Pools.
“Once you do that, the Pools should let you know it’s okay to proceed. Ask who or what you’re searching for, and the Pools will answer.” He cocked his head. “Hopefully.”