Prologue: Mother's Medicine

“Once the water shone like glass, clear as truth before it passed.
They blessed it, sealed it, let it flow, said, ‘drink and you will never know.’
Sleep, my dear, don’t ask why—the wells ran dry, the voices died.
Rock-a-bye on pipes of stone.
The water knows. 
The water knows.”

The familiar melody floated through the air, a lullaby so delicate for something so twisted. But beauty had always been favorable to what lay beneath it.

“Haven, darling, have you decided what animal you’d like to be?” The hushed whisper of Kala’s voice tickled Haven’s ears, making her giggle. The little girl pushed Kala’s face away, smiling as she wiggled her feet. “A paradise bird,” she said proudly. Kala continued braiding Haven’s long strawberry-blonde locks, her smile sweet at first, then slowly tightening.

“Only regular people can have bird wings, honey,” she reminded her daughter, watching the little six-year-old carefully. “Remember, you’re special.”

“Being special is better,” Haven said, glancing up at her mother for approval, uncertain.

“You’re learning. Very good, Havey.” Kala tied off the finished braid with a ribbon. Her gaze drifted around the lavish room, searching for one of her servants. “Vienna!” she called sharply, releasing Haven’s hair as she stood. She moved toward the open doorway, peering down the long hallway. No servants. And several paintings looked dull, unpolished. Such a hassle, having nice things.

Haven darted into the hallway, nearly tripping when her mother caught her arm. “Mommy, that hurts!” she whined, twisting away. Kala sighed and crouched to her level. “It’s almost time for your medicine, my dear.” She’d said it dozens of times before. Nearly every day.

Haven’s lips puckered into a pout. “I don’t like taking my medicine,” she complained, tugging at her arm. “Well, if you want to be special, then you have to take it.” Kala kept her smile in place, though her patience was thinning. “I don’t care! I want to go play with Maurice!” Haven protested, dropping toward the floor.

“I already told you, Haven, don’t go near Maurice. He’s paid to run the estate, not entertain you.” Kala snapped, the hiss creeping into her voice despite her effort to restrain it. “I don’t have time for tantrums. VIENNA!” She glanced down both ends of the hall. A maid hurried around the corner moments later. “What took you so long, Vienna?”

“I–I’m sorry, Mrs. Hemmings!” the girl cried, bowing hastily. “Mr. Hemmings needed me for business, but I came as soon as I could.” Kala dismissed the excuse with an eye roll and lifted Haven into her arms, the child momentarily subdued. “Prepare the laboratory,” she said coolly. “And be quick.”

“Yes- right away, Mrs. Hemmings,” Vienna answered, bowing again before rushing off.

Kala exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples as she carried Haven down the corridor. “Does Vienna need medicine?” Haven asked, absently twirling a loose strand of her mother’s hair.

Kala’s lips tightened, just for a moment, before easing back into a smile. “No, my dear. She needs a different kind of medicine. Or better yet, class. But some people simply can’t afford it.” She lifted a finger beneath Haven’s chin. “No one else will ever have medicine like yours. I’ll make sure of that.”

Haven wasn’t listening anymore, distracted by the loose hairs in her braid.

“You are the only one who gets Mommy’s special medicine,” Kala continued as they approached the laboratory wing. Her hand slid to her back pocket, fingers closing around something familiar. “Do you know why that is, Haven?”

Haven glanced up at her mother, then down again, shaking her head faintly.

“Because you’re special.”

Kala withdrew the syringe. Haven looked up at her mother once more, then back at the needle, eyes widening. “Hold still for Mommy,” Kala murmured gently as she slid the needle into Haven’s arm and pressed the plunger down.

Kala held her as the girl blinked slowly, her body going slack, eyelids fluttering shut. “This is all for you, Havey,” she whispered. “All for you.” She stepped up to the reinforced door, twisting latch after latch. The panel hummed, a section sliding aside to reveal a fingerprint scanner. Kala pressed her finger against the cold glass. The light flashed green.

The door groaned and slid open, revealing a descending staircase swallowed by darkness.

“When you’re ready,” Kala murmured, stepping forward, “you’ll thank me.”

She disappeared into the abyss.