Nightshade (Nightshade, #1)

by Keri Lake

The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins? Edgar Allan Poe

“The sun will turn into darkness, and the moon into blood. And the heavens will shake. But do not be afraid.”

the Pentacrux, a staunch religious group that’d swept through villages in search of sinners.

They believed in the holy Pentasanctori, the divine five,

which consisted of The Father, The Virgin Mother, The Messiah, and the two w...

The light. She focused on that. Bad things never happened in the light. It was always darkness, mother had always said. The dark was when evil tended to be most active.

“Dominus vigilans.

“It means, watch yourself, for you are watched.”

Nightshade. The shadowed world he’d become obsessed with—a land far beyond our own world, which he’d often likened to Purgatory.

hand-drawn image of a crescent moon inside a circle, and at the base of the crescent, another smaller circle. The symbol for Nightshade.

Nightshade is a place, not unlike our own world, but much more ancient. A parallel plane described in ancient texts as purgatory. It was believed that the Fallen walked freely there, and could traverse between our world and theirs. Human souls also occupy this plane, though the nature of how they arrive, or why, is obscure. As I understand, they are not free to come and go. Given the information and what is known, I would venture to say these souls belong to those bound for the infernal realm, or those which are easily corruptible with unfinished business. Lost souls.

‘Everything has meaning,’ he’d always said to me. ‘You just have to look for the signs.’

In some ways, I was a bit like him myself. Ceaselessly chasing truth.

Libidine, my father had labeled it, and went on to describe it as a symbol for lust. He also explained that the presence of particular symbols in sequence represented each of the seven deadly sins. Iracundia for Wrath, Invidia for Envy, Avaritia for greed, and so on.

Death, they called me. The Reaper of Nightshade. The ironic part being, the poor bastards were already dead. They just didn’t know it.

The village was one of many in Nightshade, brimming with the lost souls of those who’d recently crossed over from the mortal, or earthly realm.

Ex Nihilo. An even colder and more desolate exile, if possible. It made up the blackness that concealed our realm from its sister world on earth. The dark immortal twin, where a number of souls had found themselves in the afterlife.

Nightshade wasn’t a place for the devout. Only the non-believers ended up there, ones who questioned the heavens, whose souls were easily corrupted by the dark and shady characters who plucked them off the streets like grapes from a winter vine. A lawless place where the Fallen overlords ruled and humans were nothing more than cheap labor. Tainted souls bought and sold like precious commodities.

Even in the afterlife, rumors somehow managed to spread like wildfire.

even one’s soul could die in Nightshade, leaving them trapped in the realm with no hope of salvation, or deliverance. But enslavement to the Fallen just might’ve been worse.

I knelt on a rock beside Cassiel, one of only two fallen angels that I had even a modicum of trust in, to call an acquaintance. He, along with his brother, Remiel, or Remy for short, had turned their back on their overlord years before, when I’d been taken prisoner by the Fallen.

Coupled with her long, black hair that once reached past her bottom, her eyes carried flecks of green, gold and red, which her mother had always referred to as stardust, as magical and mystical as the luminous gems that hung in the night sky.

In order for something to live, something must rot.”

Only to consider a deeper understanding of the unseen. As I said, things are not always as they seem.”

“Have you learned anything from this, girl?” “Yes, Your Excellency” she said, tipping her chin up. “I learned that I no longer fear the dark.”

“Nightshade is the darkness to the light of this world. Its shadow, so to speak. Where the dark ones dwell.”

“Do you know what comes from an angel and a human?” Oddly enough, I did. “Nephilim.” “Very good. And what about a human and demon?” “Cambion, right?”

Sentinel is what happens when a demon falls in love with an angel.”

Sentinel they produce? Is he good? Bad?” “He has the propensity for both. His life is a trial, essentially. A series of tests to see which he chooses to side with. Good? Or evil.”

The Fallen fear their kind, as they possess the powers of both Heaven and Hell.”

“If Nightshade is where the Fallen walk freely, then why did my father insist on going there?” “Because it is also the place where the lost go after death.” “The lost?” “Those who believe in neither Heaven, nor Hell.”

“The Fallen are certainly a threat to the poor uncorrupted souls who elect to go to Nightshade. But the most likely reason is that, in time, he will forget his life in this realm.” “Forget? Everything?” “Everything. You. Your mother. His purpose. That is how Nightshade works.”

“Strong women will always bear the dangerous burden of a weaker man’s pride.”

“Precisely. Your world is divided by what is good and evil. Black and white. There is no room for gray.”

I’d lived long enough to know beauty was fleeting. It faded like a dying vine in the winter frost. No, I had longed for much more than beauty and the occasional romp.

The enigmatic soul that haunted my dreams.

She had always expressed the importance of passion over everything else, and how it could mean the difference between a cold and bland kiss, and one that left a blazing fire in its path.

I needed something else. Something to draw me out of the madness of constantly being alone in my thoughts. An unimaginable void sat heavy inside my chest, hungry for something. Anything.

The big black question mark would forever hang over my head, likely driving me to madness someday, just like him. I wanted to know why he’d pined after my mother. What had convinced him so thoroughly that he’d one day see her again?

“Once you go, you will never come back the same. You can’t unsee.”

“To see, you must open your mind.”

“You’ll feel sleepy but awake. Dead but alive. The traversing of planes can be quite traumatic, if not dulled. The tea is derived from an ancient flower.” “Nightshade?” “Yes. It is for which Nightshade is named. This particular species grows nowhere else but there.”

What dies here, lives there. Think of it as a transfer, of sorts. You still have your soul and your mind. They will remain intact. Perfect, really.”

“It is a matter of perspective. What you see as Heaven, another might see as Hell. The reverse is also true.”

“Nightshade has a way of making you forget. You can’t be two different people, so your memories of this life begin to fade. My advice is: remember who you are. Cling to it.”

“And I have to consume the flower to come back. What if I can’t find it?” “You’ll remain there.” “What do you mean remain there? Like, the rest of my life?” “Yes. Eternally. After some time, the memory of your old life will fade, until it’s nothing but a dream, or fairytale.” “What’s so special about this flower?” I asked, staring down at the dark liquid again. “Find one. Consume it. That’s your ticket back.”

“There are a few reasons people end up in Nightshade. Some are curious, like you. Some long to escape this world for another. And some end up there involuntarily.” “They’re dead.”

There is no physical body to come back to, in their case. So, they remain trapped in the decaying body, with no means of escape, for eternity.” “They’re conscious and aware? Stuck in a corpse?” “Yes. But they cannot communicate. Cannot escape. It is the most horrible existence imaginable.”

“One should not desire the very thing which stirs his madness.”

The path we followed ran adjacent to a small cluster of Bavarian-style structures that sat along a narrow river, with wooden crossing bridges and cobblestone streets lit by gas lamps, which flickered as we passed. Dark and eerie.