Usagi

My stomach growled.

Despite being invited-several times, I might add—I had refused every one of Dimande's invitations to dine. I had also failed to eat any of the food he sent up over the past day and a half. But as hunger started to overtake me, I wondered if I was making the right choice.

It had been almost 48 hours since I arrived at the castle. The strange sunlight of the day was hanging lower in the room and the magical fairy lights that swirled in the evening sky started to appear, so I knew dinner would be upon us soon.

Dinner, I groaned to myself. Dinner sounds so good.

I wasn't even sure why I wasn't eating. Normally, I couldn't stop eating. The first day I arrived, my stomach had been in too many knots for me to really even consider it. But when dinner arrived the night before, another thought consumed me: What if he was poisoning the food, or drugging it so I would be incapacitated? The thought terrified me.

Another breakfast and lunch had come to pass. The strange, magical carts brought more than enough for me to eat—glistening cakes, spiced meats, aromatic pastas and salads, decanters full of deep, crimson wine—but I was too scared. I turned over like an ignition on a tank of empty gas, and I started to reconsider my position.

Without food, I had no strength. And without strength, I had zero chance of getting out of here alive. When the dinner cart arrived tonight, I thought, I would be sure to eat.

The door clicked open, and I fully expected the silver cart to bumble in, oddly jovial and carefree for an inanimate object. Instead it was Dimande peeking through the door. If I had not been so hungry, I might've cast him a glance. Instead I continued lying on my bed, my head propped on one of the fluffy pillows.

"I've been informed you refuse to eat," he said harshly. "Might I ask why?"

"I haven't been hungry," I lied. Though, I could tell the circles forming around my eyes and the lethargy in my limbs were telling him the full story.

"You will dine with me tonight." A demand—not a question. "Until dinner is ready, though, you will eat this and drink some water. I cannot bear to see you unwell."

A silver trolley bopped into the room. It was smaller than the larger serving tray, and on it was a plate full of piping hot pork buns. My tongue grew heavy under the rushing saliva. They smelled unlike any other thing I had ever encountered. The salt and garlic emanating from them was so thick I could almost taste it, and it was taking everything in my power to not instantly leap across the room and consume them.

Prying my eyes from the food, I examined Dimande. His face was serious, but it was laced in a genuine concern. Was he worried about me?

"And before you protest my proposal," he continued on. "Hear me out."

He stepped closer to the bed and I sat up even more, my spine now completely straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed near my feet, but I was too hungry to tell him to get off. Seeing him sitting there made me feel on edge.

"I recognize that I haven't been as forthright as you were hoping," he said. "I can understand why that frustrates you so."

"Oh, can you?" I shot back. His face remained calm.

"I want to offer an olive branch to you," he said, his voice sincere. "But for me to do that, I insist you eat."

The trolley inched closer to me and rested firmly at Dimande's side. With his finger, he nudged the plate closer to me. The large pitcher levitated and began to pour the water into a glass with every last drop splashing perfectly into place.

"Okay," I said, anxiously looking at the buns and then back to him. "So what's in it for me exactly? Besides the food."

"If you join me for dinner tonight, I promise I will tell you why I need the crystal."

I sat up to get a good look at him. He was still draped in black and his beautiful, white hair was secured at the base of his neck with a tie. While I watched him watching me, I could tell he was concerned that I had refused his food. He was waiting for my answer, searching my face for any sign I might relent, and I felt like I could.

He was going to keep me here until I agreed to hand over the crystal to him, so why not at least figure out his motivations? Maybe I could even sway him to choose a different path—that is, if the path he was walking down was evil. I caught myself in this thought. Did I really believe Dimande could be planning on using the crystal's power for good?

"So dinner?" I said sheepishly. "And you'll tell me?"

He smiled knowing he had won.

"Yes, Usagi," he let out a sigh of relief. His eyes flickered up and simmered on my skin, their purple hue dancing in a way that made my head light—or could it possibly be the hunger? "Dinner."

He took the plate of buns from the cart and extended it toward me. I couldn't resist it any longer. My fingers snatched one of the buns and I greedily ate it, savoring the texture of the meat and the softness of the dough. I barely chewed I ate so fast, letting the seasoning envelop my tongue and the juices of it run down my fingers. When I swallowed, I instantly placed my fingers in my mouth and licked off the excess.

When my gaze met Dimande's, I saw a burning satisfaction that I didn't particularly like, but the delectable taste had me in a trance. I grabbed another one and chose to eat a little more slowly, taking the time to appreciate each note, suppressed moans of euphoria escaping my lips with each bite.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said as he placed the plate back down on the trolley. He stood up and moved back toward the door. I sat still devouring the taste left on my fingers. "In the meantime, Rubeus will show you around the grounds. You are our guest—not our prisoner—and you shall be able to explore at your leisure."

He opened the door and left me there alone as I reached for another bun.

By the time Rubeus had showed up at my door, my plate had been licked clean.

With food in my belly, I felt like my head was one again clearing. For the past day, my mind had been so clouded by hunger I couldn't even begin to devise a plan for my escape. When Dimande suggested the tour, I truly was a little excited: First, to soak in the incredibleness of this place, and second, to start finding holes that could lead me home.

Dressed in a simple satin, floor-length dress (white, of course), Rubeus met me outside my door and we wasted no time.

The palace was, in a word, breathtaking. It seemed to go on and on forever, each room more grand than the next. There was a glittering library, sitting rooms with furniture gilded in gold, a studio with every color and type of paint imaginable, and then there was my personal favorite—a greenery with a curved dome and walls made entirely of glass. Light reflected off them to create a torrent of rainbow prisms that bathed the room in otherworldly color.

The last place we stopped inside the castle was a grand ballroom. It was at the back end of the castle and had its own 12-foot tall entrance doors made of white gold. While it was incredibly beautiful, it was a relatively simple room. There was minimal furniture, just an expanse of black slate that covered the entire floor.

On the wall was a single painting, one that was incredibly large and looked more like a mural than a single canvas. It was a beautifully painted night sky and in the corner was a tiny sliver of a moon. When I looked at it, I had the unshakeable feeling that it was made just for me.

Outside, the gardens were even more impressive. The greenery surrounded the entire grounds, carving out little pathways and hiding secret lawns that were adorned with white marble fountains and mature cherry trees.

Rubeus didn't say anything of substance during our tour, he more or less pointed out the materials in which the crystal castle was made or the use of any particular room. Throughout our walk, though, I noticed that no one was at the castle besides the two of us and Dimande. No servants, no other aristocrats—it was strange.

"Where are all the people?" I asked as we continued through the garden.

"What do you mean?" Rubeus said without looking at me.

"The people," I asked again. "I haven't seen a single person besides you."

"There's Dimande," Rubeus said, his lips curled upward.

"You know that's not what I'm asking," I groaned. "Why are there only three of us here?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he continued walking, his eyes fixated forward as if he was waiting to come upon another mysterious feature of this castle to show me. As I walked beside him, I continued looking at him incredulously, hoping he might catch my gaze and become so uncomfortable with me gawking.

Not even a few seconds later, we came to a much larger wall of green shrubbery—at least 20 feet tall—that had a wooden barn-like door carved into it. Rubeus grabbed the great iron latch and clicked it open, then motioned for me to step outside. On the other side of it was a fairly narrow walkway that had no rail, large enough for two people to comfortably walk side-by-side, but small enough where you might consider not too. The pathway dropped off to the nothingness of galactic sky.

I inched closer to the side of the walkway and peered over.

Below was a bright green stream of light that ebbed and flowed against the dark purple sky. It looked like the threads of a river rushing in a current, the deepest parts of it a forest green and the lightest parts of it pure white, but mostly it was neon. It was suspended in the air, shored by no beach or riverbed or anything like that.

"What is that?" My voice was breathless.

"That is the River of Souls," Rubeus said soberly.

The River of Souls curved around errantly and flowed so far off into the distance, I couldn't see where it fed into it. I also couldn't see where it came from, as it snaked out from underneath us, which made me realize this planet was actually a floating platform suspended by...something.

"What is the River of Souls?" I asked. He looked at me, his face pure stone.

"It's where people go when they die." He took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets. "It's where we were before we were here."

I knew they had been dead, so his admission didn't pack the wallop I'm sure he thought it did, but it did surprise me to hear him say it. I squinted my eyes to get a better look at the river and I could see it: Inside the current were small little flecks of light dancing amid the different shades of green.

"You were...in there?" I asked, my eyes still focused on the light. "You were a soul?"

"Yes," he said. "We were. But now we're—well. We're not, I suppose."

"So you're alive or are you dead?"

"I'm not sure," he said, and I could tell he was being sincere. "We're stuck in this limbo I suppose."

If I was here, did that mean I was dead? I couldn't be—I had never swam in the River of Souls. But I, too, was here, standing side-by-side with a man who was once dead and is now…

"I feel alive," he clarified. "I feel just as I did before."

I could sense the apprehension in his voice. "But you don't know?"

"All I know is that one day I was there," he pointed to the river. "And now, I'm here. My body is solid. I can feel my heart beat. I have memories and thoughts and desires."

He inched closer to the edge, but I stood back cautiously. I was already far too close, and I didn't even want to know what happened after you went off the side.

"I know you think Dimande is evil," Rubeus looked at me with an intensity that made me nervous. "I know you think I am, as well. But you have to understand we're only doing what we have to do to survive. That is what we were always doing."

Instinctively, I nodded my head. Rubeus seemed like he meant what he said, but truth is such a fickle thing. He might've honestly believed he was doing no harm—both now and back when we first met—but the fact of the matter was that he and Dimande had used the crystal once for evil, and I had no doubt he would do it again.

My mind wandered to my escape plan. When Dimande proposed this tour, I thought it would be a good opportunity to scout my exit, but maybe he wanted me to see that there was no exit. Maybe they were trapped there too.

"What happens," I tried to make my voice sound as casual as I could, "if you go over the edge?"

Rubeus seemed to be extracted from his haze when I said it. His brow furrowed and he became very serious, so much so he lurched toward me and grabbed my shoulders so we were looking squarely in the eye.

"Don't try to go over the edge," his voice was alarmingly serious. "If you fall into the black, you will go into the nothingness and float until you're either saved or you waste away—whichever comes first."

"What if I manage to get to the river?" I was shaking, but still curious.

His eyes grew dark.

"If you manage to make it to the river," he said, "You will most certainly die."