Another thing I’ve learned is that Zerra can only clearly see and summon the living into the Evanescence when they call for her. Otherwise, they must agree to her invitation or be dead. I remember Lor screaming for help in my half-conscious state and this must be how Zerra ensnared both of us.

These poor women were simply praying to Zerra when they were dragged here against their will, so I’m trying not to take my frustrations out on them.

The door opens, and we proceed along the strange glass pathway. I’ve become a bit more accustomed to it, though it’s still dizzying. The path bends to the left, where another round floating room appears.

Diana opens the door and gestures for me to enter, revealing a bedroom where everything is white, the floors covered in thick fur rugs. A massive bed of white wood, covered in white sheets and pillows, sits against a wall, but it’s the view that makes my breath catch.

Huge arched windows extend from the high ceiling, revealing a range of snow-capped mountains receding into the distance. It’s the first time since I arrived that I’ve seen anything other than a stretch of formless blue sky and clouds.

Zerra sits at a dressing table, staring at herself in a small hand mirror. She looks up at my entrance and sets it down before standing.

“What is this?” I ask, gesturing outside.

She shrugs. “Sometimes I like to change the view. The mist can get so boring.”

“Where exactly are we?” I ask, moving towards the window and scanning the horizon. While the view might be different, it still doesn’t appear real, like someone copied a mountain and redrew it a thousand times.

“We’re somewhere above, below, beside Ouranos.”

I turn around. “What does that mean?”

She twists a hand in the air. “The Evanescence is everywhere. I can’t explain it.”

I frown as she approaches, scanning me from head to toe.

“Shall we eat?” She gestures to the small table in the middle of the floor set with silver dishes and a giant candelabra topped with dripping candles. I follow and sit down as she spoons food onto my plate. It threatens my entire sense of calm when she feeds me like I’m a child, but I dig my hands into my thighs, reminding myself that I’m pretending to be nice.

When she’s heaped my plate with food, I give her a smile that I hope appears genuine before I manage a few bites.

“What did you do today?” I ask.

Her eyebrows draw together, and she shrugs. “Why?”

“If I’m staying for a while, I’d like to know more about you.”

That answer seems to please her, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table.