Chapter 48
Emmeric
Emmeric stared at the yawning cavern ahead of him, really wishing he hadn’t made it through the veil so he wouldn’t need to walk into this tomb. It would seem only the Aztia and Kanaliza were allowed entry as a failsafe. Which, unfortunately, made sense, as this was the burial site for the originals, but Emmeric still would have preferred Iyana to think things through more before forging ahead, touching the veil of magic. There was no way she was absolutely sure she could pass uninhibited, and the damned woman did it anyway. It worked, but it might not have. They’d need to have a discussion about impulsivity.
A never-ending darkness leered back at Emmeric. No torches lined the walls to light the way through the cave. Only a few steps into the cavern and all the pitiful excuse for daylight in the Dead Lands was extinguished. Iyana held out her palm, a little ball of fire appearing there. She stared at it, an adorable little furrow of concentration on her brow, until it became white hot. Illuminating the space, she tossed it into the air, where it hovered over them.
“You’re getting better at that,” Emmeric said.
Iyana’s entire face brightened as she smiled. “Thank you.”
The cave was large and rounded. Like everything else in the Dead Lands, it was dry. There was no moisture running down the walls, no green moss. Most caves Emmeric had seen possessed stalactites and stalagmites, but those were missing, too. The air lacked the mildew smell usually associated with dark places. It appeared completely man-made. He wondered if they were the first ones to enter since the tomb was erected.
“Well,” Emmeric said, “time to go down the creepy tunnel, I guess.”
Iyana practically began skipping. His hand shot out to grasp her elbow. She turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What?” she asked.
“We don’t know if there are traps laid out.”
She glanced back down the tunnel. “We’ll never know if we stay here. And I’d rather not leave the others out there for longer than necessary.”
Good point.“Well, let me go first, at least.”
Iyana rolled her eyes but waved him forward. They took it slowly, Emmeric with a sword in his hand on the lookout for tripwires, a loose stone, anything out of the ordinary that might trigger a trap. Soon, the cave sloped downwards. The farther they walked, the cooler the air became. And there didn’t seem to be any evidence of traps. Emmeric lowered his guard slightly and sheathed his sword, but his hand remained resting on the hilt.
The tunnel had twists and turns, all while steadily going down, down, down. It delved far enough into the earth that Emmeric’s ears popped to adjust to the change in altitude. His breath misted out in front of him as the air cooled even further. Talking felt almost sacrilegious in this space. Anything they said to each other echoed off the walls, flying down the cave before them. They didn’t want to run the risk of something potentially guarding the bottom of the tomb and hearing them, so they kept it limited to whispers if they needed to say something. Even the whispers seemed too loud.
They’d been walking for quite a while—Iyana’s ball of light diligently following them—it was impressive she’d been able to maintain it for so long without drawing from him—when the cave began to narrow. Marginally so at first, but Emmeric had to stoop to keep his head from brushing against the ceiling, while Iyana continued to walk upright.
She peered at him, eyes sparkling with mirth, seemingly to say, not so bad being small now.
He returned the look with a frown to answer, shut it, Mouse. Lighthearted joy flickered over her face and through their bond; she bit her lower lip to keep from laughing at him. Emmeric’s gaze darted to the motion, lust coursing through him like wildfire. Iyana must have seen it in his expression, or felt it, because she quickly released her lip and glanced away.
The cave tightened further until even Iyana was bent over and Emmeric was on his hands and knees, crawling. Iyana was now leading them, as she was more upright and could see better. This was the most undignified position he’d ever found himself in, and he hoped Iyana wouldn’t hold it against him forever. Knowing her, though, she’d bring it up at any opportunity. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, thinking about her future teasing, and how much he’d pretend to hate it while having to fight back a laugh.
Iyana disappeared suddenly with a shriek from in front of him, the light extinguishing, leaving Emmeric in darkness.
“Iyana!” he yelled, ignoring any previous caution they’d been using by keeping silent. A groan sounded from somewhere…underneath him? “Iyana!”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Fell through a godsdamn hole.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, even though minor aches in his own body told him she hadn’t been injured too badly. Although a little flash of pain traveled through his right ankle. He hoped she hadn’t broken it.
“Yeah, just bruises. My body and my ego. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I’m coming down.” Emmeric inched forward carefully, feeling out the area in front of him. His hand dropped into an empty space, and he dragged his body back before he toppled over as well. It didn’t seem like a far drop, but if he fell headfirst, he’d probably break his neck before he could twist his body into a safer position. The hole spanned the entire width of the cave, and leaning as far as he dared, the other side was still out of reach. Patting down the hole in front of him, his fingers jammed on something hard. He cursed under his breath, shaking out his hand. Emmeric explored more and soon realized it was wood. A ladder.
“Emmeric?” Iyana called.
“Coming. I think there’s a ladder here.” He swung his leg over, searching for a rung. Once he found one, he tested his weight, and when it didn’t break, he descended slowly, testing each rung. He’d hate to break the ladder because it would effectively trap them in this tomb, unless Iyana had learned to teleport. His stomach flipped at the prospect. Emmeric had never been claustrophobic in the past, but now would be a great time to start. Finally making it to solid ground, he estimated Iyana had fallen around ten feet. “Iyana?”
“Here,” she said, on the ground by his feet. Emmeric knelt down again, his hand feeling around himself until his fingers ran into Iyana.
He explored around her scalp, cataloging small areas of stickiness. Cuts which had already stopped bleeding. Moving his way downward, gingerly he brushed a finger along her nose, and down both sides of her neck. Her pulse beat strong and steady. A slight inhale passed Iyana’s lips when he reached her collarbones. Emmeric pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered.
His instincts told him to continue his examination, to make sure she was okay, but he hesitated. “Do you want me to stop?”
There was a pause. Emmeric held his breath.
“No.”
He exhaled quietly. While she already knew how he felt about her, he didn’t want her to realize how much that one word affected him. She trusted him to continue searching her vulnerable body for wounds. And maybe she enjoyed his touch a little. If Emmeric were a better man, he’d stop now, knowing she was with Altair—this may be crossing a line. Phaedros take him, she loved Altair. But Emmeric never claimed to be a good man, and he continued his search. He lightly grazed her arms next, both hands and each finger. Other than a couple broken nails, those were all intact. Smoothing his hands down her sides to her waist, she stilled beneath him. He paused, allowing her the opportunity to tell him to stop, but her body relaxed and he took it as an invitation to continue. Iyana’s legs were both without injury, only some rips in her pants, but when he reached her right ankle, she hissed in pain.
“Sorry,” he murmured. With a gentler touch, he prodded around her ankle. “I don’t think it’s broken. I’m not feeling any deformities.”
She sighed. “Thank the gods. I don’t know if I can mend broken bones with my magic, and I’d rather not test it now.”
“You healed me before without touching me. Do you think you can do that now?” There was no answer. “Iyana?”
“Sorry, forgot you can’t see me.” She hummed in thought. “I don’t think I can heal myself without touch. But blood doesn’t need to be involved.”
“Tell me what you need.” His voice lowered against his own volition. Emmeric hadn’t meant to sound sensual, but this woman constantly had that effect on him. He cleared his throat, suddenly happy the darkness concealed her reaction.
“Hold my hand?”
Easy, he could do that. Shuffling back near her head, he took her hand, reveling in the sensation of her fingers between his own. He’d felt her hands before, of course, but it always surprised him to find they weren’t soft. Emmeric’s image of Iyana was this queenly leader who delegated the hard work, but the callouses on her hands proved she’d had her share of tough labor. He thought of her standing in her hut with a mortar and pestle, grinding ingredients for a medical remedy, or tearing cloth apart for bandages. No, this was a woman who knew how to work and relished in it. Without thinking, he rubbed his thumb against her knuckles.
The heady rush of Iyana connecting to their bond hit him harder than it had for a while. Maybe because they were in such a vulnerable and intimate setting, when lately they’d been separated and focused on their own individual tasks without touching. There was no enemy here for them to fight, and so he let the sensation flow through him while the pain in his ankle subsided. Once Iyana had healed herself, Emmeric jerked his hand out of hers. Her hurt pulsed in his chest, but if he hadn’t removed himself, he might have said fuck it and given in to temptation. Already half hard, he tried desperately to get his body into check. Fire illuminated again in Iyana’s palm, and he adjusted his pants. Fortunately, she wasn’t facing towards him, but down another tunnel branching off from where she’d fallen.
“It’s this way,” Iyana said confidently. Emmeric really had no choice but to trust her instincts. She had led them directly to the tomb, after all.
Luckily for Emmeric, this section of the cave was tall enough for him to stand upright, and he luxuriated in stretching out his spine, arms raised up high. When he finished his stretch, Iyana’s eyes quickly looked anywhere but at him, and he grinned.
“I can’t believe I caught you ogling, Mouse,” he said.
Her face flushed. “I was not ogling.”
“Hmm,” Emmeric mused. “Then whatever word you want to use to describe staring at my body wantonly.”
Iyana almost choked. “You wish.” Emmeric only chuckled deep in his throat, and didn’t miss the way Iyana stared at him, swallowing hard.
“Careful, Mouse, don’t drool on yourself.” His smile widened.
She huffed and spun around. “Let’s just go.”
He bowed, stretching out a hand dramatically. “I follow your lead, oh mighty Aztia.” Iyana rolled her eyes at him again, but there was a small smile on her face. Pride shone through him. Emmeric loved making her happy.
It wasn’t long before a small light shimmered before them. They both glanced at each other, not saying a word. Emmeric drew his sword to have it at the ready and handed Iyana a dagger. She frowned down at it, then at him. Just in case, he mouthed. Iyana nodded, but looked extremely uncomfortable, her grip on the hilt so tight her knuckles were turning white. Emmeric vowed to remedy that once they left here. She had turned down Talon’s offer to teach her before, but Emmeric wouldn’t give her a choice this time. It would be safer for her if she learned how to use a dagger effectively. Nine hells, it could save her life one day if she caught someone off guard. Not to mention, he’d be less anxious letting her out of his sight.
They approached the end of the tunnel warily, watching the light enlarge one step at a time. The other side could contain any number of terrible things or nothing at all, and Emmeric didn’t know what to prepare for. Life used to be so much simpler when the only enemies he had to worry about were human men. Sure, usually highly trained men with sharp weapons, but he’d take that any day over stars, or magical beings, or wailers. He shuddered. Who knew what awaited them in the tomb of two people who had been gifted magic directly from the gods?
The current Aztia and Kanaliza cautiously stepped out of the tunnel to enter the burial site of their predecessors, side by side.
“Wow,” Iyana whispered. Emmeric was inclined to agree.
Murals decorated the walls of the enormous cavern they had entered. The area was rounded, the only entry or exit the one Emmeric and Iyana were standing in. Shrouded in darkness, the ceiling was not visible, giving the cavern an endless feeling. A ring of torches lining the room allowed Emmeric to see the paintings in full detail. The flames flickered and popped like actual fire, but these had to be magical. There was no oil feeding the flames and the wooden handles in the wall remained unburnt. Dust was nowhere to be found, and the dry air smelled faintly of warm vanilla with contrasting cool spearmint. Warmth suffused the room—a welcome change to the icy tunnels.
Two sarcophagi rested together in the center of the room. Iyana regarded the entire tomb in wide-eyed wonder. At first glance there appeared to be no danger, so he didn’t argue when Iyana wandered off to explore. He honestly wanted to do the same.
Beginning at the mural to the left of the entrance, he marveled at the expertly painted rendering of the gods. Zaya and Khonos, mother and father of all gods, stood over the pantheon, looking down upon their children. Their own father, Khollo, God of Beginnings, was portrayed as a swirling black cloud looming above them. Phaedros was easy to spot, with his long dark robes and scowling expression. His consort Dyuna was by his side, a petite woman with a kind face. She technically was not a goddess, but Emmeric had never learned her story of how she came to be, or how she fell in love with the God of Hell. Their twin children, Otho and Thelena, knelt at their feet, weapons in hand. Altea, Goddess of the Afterlife, stood on the opposite end, long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, her arms extended in welcome, flowers blooming at her feet—marigolds, chrysanthemums, and goldenrods. A small, sad smile graced her beautiful face. The other gods were scattered throughout. He recognized Imera from the statues at the library. She stood in a puddle of blood, a bundle of herbs grasped in her hands. Elena was absent from this rendition. Brightness surrounded Arjun and Ciri, God and Goddess of Light and Day, cradling a shining sun in their arms—their son, Iros. Whereas darkness shrouded Athos and Anja, God and Goddess of Darkness and Night, cooing at a full moon in a bassinet—their daughter, Yrza. Gana sat upon a patch of grass, surrounded by nature—animals, trees, and flowers—a leopard laying at her feet. Aaris, God of Marriage, was beaming, celebrating with a glass of red wine. At least, Emmeric hoped it was wine.
From there, the mural showed the creation of humans, the gods gifting them small portions of their magic, and the explosion in the human population. They emigrated from the land of the gods when there became too many of them and traversed the earth, settling in all the continents—including Arinem. Stars in their constellations interacted with the gods and humans peacefully. Then the gods went to sleep, the mural depicting them lying underneath the Forgotten Mountains.
A significant portion of the mural then showed the stars acting as gods, enslaving the humans. There was cruelty, blood, death. A pile of human limbs leaking gore. Humans carrying heavy loads upon their backs. All while the stars sat above them, laughing, drinking, and fucking. Zaya awoke from her slumber, touching the forehead of a human woman. There were many battles of the stars pitted against magical humans—the Aztia and Kanaliza leading the charge in all of them, usually hand in hand.
So many deaths. All because one species believed themselves to be greater than another. Emmeric wished he could say humans were better, but given the right conditions, his race would do exactly what the stars had done. Look at Uther and how many lives he’d ruined in his quest for power.
The end of the mural depicted the banishment of the stars to the sky. How they had actually managed that important bit of magic was excluded, much to Emmeric’s chagrin, but it was only an artistic rendition—stars swept up within a whirlwind, attempting to cling to the earth, and then flung into the sky to settle next to the moon.
The post-conflict Aztia and Kanaliza were portrayed in multiple areas of the mural—during peacetime, getting married, having children, and living to a ripe old age before dying in each other’s arms. It was all very romantic, and a bolt of envy jolted Emmeric. Although, he supposed they had overcome their own trials and deserved a long, peaceful life. Maybe his own happy ending would be waiting for him on the other end of things.
Engraved below the final image of them embracing in death were their names, at last: Les and Theo.
Emmeric was about to call out to Iyana to show her what he’d found when something caught his eye. In one of the battle scenes, a star in what appeared to be military garb was beheading a human. He seemed familiar…
“Hey, Mouse, does this look like—” Emmeric paused as he turned, finding Iyana standing next to the Aztia’s sarcophagus. Les’s sarcophagus. Silent tears dropped from her face onto the stone carving of her predecessor.
Emmeric approached her and placed a hand on her low back. “Hey,” he said quietly, “you okay?”
Iyana nodded. “It’s her.” She gestured towards Les, then looked up at Emmeric, her eyes shining with amazement and disbelief. “The little fire woman who I always thought was an embodiment of my magic. Something I could visualize to connect to it more easily. But it’s her.”
“Les,” Emmeric whispered.
“Short for Alessia,” Iyana said, smiling, stroking a finger over the stone woman’s cheek. “She’s been watching out for me. Helping me. This whole time.”
Emmeric felt himself mirroring Iyana’s smile, rubbing small circles on her back. Then he noticed the necklace, the chain made of stone, but inlaid with a small jewel in the shape of a hexagon. A slight silver glow emanated from it, pulsing. He could feel the wealth of magic contained within this small piece of jewelry—it lapped at the edges of his senses, like a warm bath when you’ve come in from the cold. Calling to him. But when he extended his consciousness towards it, the magic was just out of reach.
“Is that?” he whispered.
“I think so,” Iyana replied, her voice also hushed. She reached a finger towards the amulet.
“Iyana, don’t…”
A sudden flare of silver light blinded Emmeric when her finger connected with the magic jewel.