CHAPTER FIVE
LYRIANA
Meera frowned. “Gently, Lyr. It’s a light movement. You don’t need so much force. Like this.” She demonstrated the spell again with her stave.
I took a deep breath, and repeated the words, my wrist turning exactly like hers. Gently. “ Ani petrova lyla. ” Power rushed through me, my body suddenly alive with it. The lighted torch above me, and every other fire in the cave withdrew into the shadows, until each flame was vanquished. Smoke hissed from the dying embers as we were cloaked in darkness.
“You did it,” Meera said happily.
“Again,” I said, my eyes still trying to adjust to the black of the cave. I could hear her resheathing her stave in her belt.
“Lyr, you’re casting spells perfectly. Really perfectly. You just have to soften your wrist-work.”
“Please,” I said. “Again.”
Meera sighed, but she cast the spell for light. Within seconds the cave torches flared, the fires crackling and spitting. I squinted as my eyes readjusted. Meera stood before me, a slightly annoyed yet somehow still graceful expression on her face. We’d now surpassed a full week of living in this cave. Color had returned to Meera’s cheeks, and her strength had greatly improved as she rested and ate regularly. She’d even started concocting different soups and stews with the vegetables Rhyan brought home after patrol, some recipes with more success than others.
Gathering more food was exactly where Rhyan was right now. He was doing his daily patrol of Glemaria, memorizing the schedules of the soturi on duty. He’d tracked their routes and patterns, and discovered the tiny holes that existed in the change of guard each hour. He was meticulous with patrol, taking notes on everything. It was helpful, but it also worried me. He was pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, often passing out upon his return.
I found myself missing him more and more. I wished we had more time during the day to be together. As well as more time at night … But we had no choice. We couldn’t make any mistakes leaving Glemaria. Not with his father inside its borders, nor with the additional legion he’d sent to hunt us down. By Rhyan’s estimate, there were hundreds of soturi scouring the countryside for signs of him. And of me.
Not to mention his father’s nahashim were constantly slithering the grounds. They couldn’t go through the walls of the cave, we’d learned—not unless they caught direct sight of him, so he was careful to remain unseen, to jump from inside the cave and our wards to a great distance beyond every time he left. It was part of the reason he was so tired.
My heart thundered wildly whenever he was gone. I trusted Rhyan’s strength, and I trusted his vorakh. But unlike the other countries we’d hidden across the Empire, the people here knew Rhyan. They’d watched him grow up as the Heir Apparent, the soturi had trained beside him, fought with him. He was far too recognizable, especially with his scar. Simply pulling up the hood of his cloak as he’d done before wasn’t going to be enough.
We’d discussed the possibility of me going out with him, or even the idea of me taking over patrol so he could rest. But the constant jumps carrying me would only wear him out unnecessarily. And he knew the countryside best, knew the routes in the wilds that the soturi took. Even if I didn’t get lost, it was physically impossible for me to cover the same amount of ground. And if my hood ever flew off my head in the sun my hair would turn red beneath—a dead giveaway to my identity. So, while he was out, I stayed with Meera. I focused on keeping up my soturion training, studying the magic I’d always wanted to learn, and testing her soups.
“I still want to practice,” I said, rolling the stave in my hand. “The spell needs to be perfect.”
“Why?” Meera asked.
“Why not?”
Meera shook her head, a sudden flare of irritation in her aura. “You’re not in the Mage Academy, Lyr. No one’s grading you. No one can even see you. So why this obsession with perfection when you’re doing more than fine?”
“I like to do things right,” I said. “I always have.”
She made a sound of frustration, staring at the ceiling. “Then I need a break.”
“Just watch me?” I pleaded. “You can sit down and rest. I’ll practice some other spells. Let me know if you have any notes.”
“I have a note.” She placed her hand on her hip. “Take a break.”
“I can’t.” My hand tightened around the stave.
“Are you worried about Rhyan?” she asked.
Exhaling sharply, I nodded. Meera noticed the way my mood shifted whenever he was gone. The way I anxiously watched the mouth of the cave, waiting for his return. “But that’s not why I’m doing this. It’s not a distraction. I need to practice. I need to be ready.”
Meera folded her arms across her chest. “For what?” There was a sharp command in her voice, a sudden resurgence of the girl who was once Heir Apparent, the future High Lady and Arkasva of Bamaria. A shiver ran down my spine.
“You know what. For everything I have to do,” I said. “I’m still bound to Mercurial. And I’m going to have to face—” I stifled a groan. “Face Morgana and Aemon at some point. And—”
“And you’re going to rescue Jules,” Meera said flatly.
My heart pounded, my eyes locking with hers. “You know I am. I have to.”
Meera laughed, the sound mirthless. “ You have to? You?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“You keep saying I, not we. Do you really think you’re doing this alone?”
“I …” I bit my lip. I’d been trying to avoid this conversation. “Meer, I’ve been thinking. And I think maybe it’s best if you go home.”
Her aura lashed out at me, stormy and icy. “What?”
“Hear me out. Rhyan and I need to buy time, legally. Everyone knows we left Bamaria, and that we’re together. Alone. I know the rumors are out there, and who knows how far they’ve been twisted.” I sighed. “We knew the risk we were taking when we fled. But now Rhyan is technically absent without leave, and I’m … I’m with him. And because of our kashonim, it puts us in danger. If we’re caught, we could be found forsworn. Bringing you home, showing we did what had to be done, well, it lends credibility to our story.”
“That’s all? You really expect me to believe that? That’s fucking gryphon shit, Lyr!”
“No, it’s not!” I yelled. “It’s true! Meera, we risked everything!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Meera yelled. “You think I’m not fucking aware of everything you’ve risked and everything you’ve sacrificed to come find me? You think I’ve forgotten everything you’ve sacrificed the last two years?” Her voice rose.
My cheeks heated. “I know you haven’t. It’s … it’s not the only reason. It’s also strategic.”
“Strategic?” Her eyes were red, as she stepped closer to me, her aura sharpening.
“Yes! We have no idea what’s happening in Bamaria. What Arianna’s up to. We need eyes there. We need to connect with our remaining allies. You’re the best one to do that.”
“Fuck that! And fuck Arianna. I might have thought so, too, before. But there’s bigger things happening than who’s currently sitting in a Seat we have no ability to claim.”
“I know,” I said, stunned. Meera had rarely cursed before she was taken.
“Do you?” She glared. “Because you seem to forget that I am the eldest sister. That I was groomed to lead. You may have spent the last two years protecting me, but I’ve spent my entire fucking life protecting you. I know what the vorakh did to me. I can’t forget. And I know the cost you’ve paid. And Jules. I have to live with it. Every single day.” Her voice broke. “But you? You were spared as a child from more than you know. The long meetings, the daily death threats we faced. Why else do you think you became so close to Jules? So you had a distraction.”
“Stop!”
Meera shook her head. “On my ninth birthday, I was given a countdown to the day I’d rule. The night we lost Jules, I wasn’t just going to come into my power and title. We were going to announce Father’s abdication. That all changed the second my vorakh appeared.” Her nostrils flared. “I should be wearing the Laurel of the Arkasva now. I should have been wearing it for two years. And maybe if I had, Father would still be alive.”
The backs of my eyes burned. The grief, the loss of him was still too fresh. Too raw. And we both hadn’t had any time to deal with it. To process, or even share our grief. Sometimes, I even forgot he was gone, until the memories crashed down on me. In those moments, it was like seeing him die all over again.
I shook my head. “Meera. No. You can’t know that. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? I know how guilty you feel over what happened to Jules. I know how it’s tormented you. I had to watch as it tore you apart. And yet, somehow, you weren’t able to see how much worse it was for me. To know that that night I was chosen. I was protected. A line no bigger than the edge of a knife is all that saved me. Do you understand the guilt I’ve carried? I was sitting there. Right there. Do you know what it was like? To know it could have been me? To always wonder if it should have been me? And now you want to send me fucking home to do nothing? Like before. I have lived the night we lost Jules a thousand times over,” she cried. “I could have reached out and touched her—but I didn’t. And then right after … I still wanted to claim my full title. I wanted to go against Father, demand she be brought back. I had a list of plots to save her, bribes ready to go, names of soturi I trusted with the task. While we watched the Bastardmaker carry her away, I was plotting her rescue. Plotting to save her. Until I wasn’t. Until I couldn’t do anything , because I was too tormented by the visions—by the knowledge that not only would I never rule, but that every plan to quiet the growing rebellion was now useless because of me. In one night I had to accept the fact that I was so incapacitated I could no longer protect you. Like I always had. Like I swore I always would. Even worse, you had to take care of me.”
“Meera.” My voice cracked. I stepped forward, reaching for her hand.
She snapped it out of my reach, her nostrils flaring. “Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together. “I didn’t see you. You’re right. I should have. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry. So? What does it matter?” She shrugged. “Let me guess. You still want to ship me back to Bamaria, keep me out of your way so you can protect Rhyan?”
“And protect you,” I shouted. “Meera! I wake up in the middle of the night to watch you sleep. To make sure you’re still here.”
“Of course, I’m still here,” she snapped. “I’m not Morgana.”
I flinched hearing her name. We’d barely discussed her, barely let ourselves say her name out loud. It was like a dance between us, an unwillingness to confirm her betrayal.
“But, Meera, you’re also—” I hugged my arms to my chest, my eyes hot with tears I refused to let fall.
“What? I’m what?” Her aura darkened. “Go ahead. Say it.”
“You’re … Meera, please,” I begged. “I just want … I need you to be safe.”
“And you don’t think I can be? Because I’m vorakh? Because I’m a liability? Or is it because you think I’m too weak and fragile? You think I can’t hear your conversations with him at night?”
I stilled.
Meera grimaced. “I know I failed you as your big sister. And as Heir Apparent. I know I fucked up by naming Arianna as our next Arkasva.”
“You didn’t though. Not once! No one knew about Arianna, not even Morgana. She could fucking mind read and she didn’t know! She tricked all of us!”
“And yet, it doesn’t matter. Because the truth is all over your face. I’m a powerful mage, I was trained to rule, one of the best in the Mage Academy. And even if I don’t have my memories yet, I know I was a Guardian. I feel it in my soul. But still, still you don’t think I’m enough.”
My eyes searched hers, looking for the right thing to say. The right way to explain. “No. No, I—”
“Gryphon shit. Just—” Meera shook her head. “Forget it.” Turning her back on me, she stormed off to her alcove, but not before she lifted her stave. Every remaining light in the cave was vanquished. Smoke filled my eyes as the darkness smothered my body. “Here you go,” she called, her voice bitter. “Practice with that.”
“Meera!”
But she was silent. I could feel more tears boiling. The air of the cave was suffocating, the walls too close to each other. I didn’t want to be trapped in there anymore. I needed fresh air. I needed to get out. Get away. I followed the faint light that shined through the mouth of the cave, hearing the hum of the protection wards as I stepped outside.
I sheathed my stave at my hip. Rhyan had bought a mage scabbard for me on one of his outings. It was soft black leather that reminded me of his Glemarian armor. A sun had been stitched onto the front above silver gryphon wings, the sigil of Ka Hart. Inside, “L.B.” had been painted in gold. He’d had it personalized for me from the vendor when he bought it. He’d shyly handed it to me, saying he wanted to make me smile. It had.
I took a deep breath, and prepared to move through the One Hundred and Eight postures of the Valya as my warm-up. Reaching my arms above my head, I stretched, then bent forward, my palms easily touching the snowy ground. My calves no longer burned the way they had months ago when I started training. But as I stretched now, I could feel even more ease in my legs. More energy. I pressed my hands down, my elbows bending as the stretch deepened even further. Slowly I breathed in and out, trying to clear my mind.
I rose up, my arms stretching back to the sky and I repeated my movements, bending again. There was a sudden shift in the air around me, an unnatural cold that seeped down to my bones. Yet there was no wind outside. The trees were still. My teeth chattered, and I turned, scanning the horizon. There was nothing. And then it hit me. The cold was coming from inside the cave.
Meera.
I turned, racing back, my stave out as Meera’s scream pierced through the humming of the wards, as I yelled out, “ Ani petrova vala! ” Light flared against the stone walls, the torches flickering to life. “Meera!”
She was curled up inside her alcove, her body all sharp angles twisting in her cloak. The spring which had been trickling only moments before was now frozen, the ice crackling and popping.
“No!” she screamed, her face contorted with pain. “No!”
“Meera! Meera, it’s okay! I’m here.” I ran faster, sliding to my knees the last few feet, and reaching out for her.
She thrashed anew as soon as she sensed me, trying to fight me off. But I was ready. I overpowered her, pressing her back to the ground, careful of her head, as I pushed her back onto her bed of blankets.
“Meera,” I yelled, “come back. Come back to me.”
I held her face with both hands, pressing my forehead to hers, doing what I always did. The thing that always worked, that always helped when nothing else did: seeing my face, hearing my voice, being as close to her as I could get. Morgana and Father couldn’t ever help her, but I could. I always could.
Blood gushed from her nose, her body shaking as it splattered onto her lips.
I tightened my hold, my palms pressed to her cheeks.
A light flared where we touched, bright and golden between us. Suddenly there was warmth inside my chest. I looked down with worry, realizing the light had come from me. From the star in my heart. But taking my attention off Meera had been a mistake. As soon as I looked away, I was thrown backwards. Not by Meera but by some other foreign force.
“Lyr?” Meera sat up several feet away from me. She was completely alert and lucid, her eyes on me in a way they never had been during one of her episodes. When she looked at me during her visions, I knew she wasn’t seeing me, only what was in her mind. But as she looked at me now, I could see the recognition in her gaze.
And I could the fear she felt. The fear she felt for me.
“Lyr!” Meera yelled. The cold in the room seemed to vanish as quickly as it came. Her vision had been the shortest one yet—mere seconds.
Shakily, I got to my feet, as something warm and wet dripped down my mouth. I reached for my face, and pulled my hand away, nearly fainting when I saw my fingers coated in blood.
But it wasn’t Meera’s blood. She hadn’t even touched me.
It was my blood. It was my nose bleeding.
A feeling of profound weakness washed over my body. My knees buckled, and I sank to the ground. The stone walls of the cave and Meera’s form blurred until they faded from sight.
I jerked, my stomach tugging as if I’d traveled, yet my knees were still pressed against the cold floor beneath me. Ice flowed through my veins, until my every limb was shaking.
“Meera?” I yelled. “Meera, what happened? Where are you?” I listened desperately. But there was no response. If she’d answered, I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t even see her.
Because I was no longer in the cave.
My blood ran cold, fear overwhelming me. I was definitely outside. And definitely not in Glemaria. The air was far more humid and hotter than anything I’d felt in weeks. It didn’t make any sense. I’d been on my knees, but now I stood. I was in the center of an arena, twice the size of our Katurium back home. Rows and rows of white stone seats were stacked on top of each other.
A limitless black inked its way across the sky bringing on darkness and night, as a faint crescent moon appeared. The crescent waxed, making its way through an entire month’s worth of phases until it stopped, full and bright. A sharp popping sound around the arena’s edge burst again and again as flames flickered to life atop hundreds of torches.
I turned and saw the seats had gone from a blank white canvas to a stadium filled with thousands of Lumerians, yelling and shouting in excitement. Each person was holding a purple flag with a golden Valalumir in the center—the sigil of the Emperor. I was in Numeria, the Empire’s capital, in the center of the Emperor’s arena. This was the Nutavian Katurium. Home of the Blade, the Empire’s warlord. And Emperor Theotis—Imperator Kormac’s uncle.
Three silver doors appeared across from me. Doors I’d seen once before—the same ones used to keep Haleika trapped as a forsaken. They’d only opened when she was released, moments before she completed her transformation into akadim.
I braced myself as the doors began to unlock, my feet widening, my muscles tense. Slowly I reached for my sword, but my hand scraped across a bare hip. My sword was gone, as was my dagger and stave. Not a single blade remained, not even a scabbard.
A thunderous howl ripped through the arena, before it changed into a wolfish growl. Two more howls answered its call.
I stepped back, my hands trembling.
Three silver wolves emerged from behind the doors, all giant in size. Each wolf was at least six feet tall, their fangs dripping, their eyes red.
The audience roared with bloodlust as I stumbled back, reaching helplessly again for a weapon I did not possess. My armor was gone, even Asherah’s chest plate was missing. I fell to my knees, desperately searching for anything I could defend myself with. But there was nothing, just an endless field of dirt.
The wolves began to charge, growling and gnashing their teeth. I jumped to my feet and turned, not knowing what else to do. I ran. My hands pumped at my sides, my feet practically flying.
I was almost on the other side of the arena when a violet door appeared.
I ran faster. I had to get to the door, and get inside. Get to safety. The audience clapped and cheered as the wolves gained speed. But even at my fastest, running at a pace I’d only dreamed of achieving before, I was moving too slowly. The wolves’ hot breath blew against my neck.
I was nearly there when the door opened. My heart stopped, my body freezing, as terror paralyzed me.
A shadow filled the threshold, before a fully grown lion emerged.
The lion roared, its eyes on me as it gracefully rose onto its back paws, mane flowing bright and red as fire. It snarled, and huffed, assessing the arena, before it roared and charged, running straight for me.
Just as I screamed, something shining on the ground caught my eye. An old-fashioned bronze shield appeared. It was round with a stone glowing bright, nestled within a carving of a blazing sun. My heart beat faster and faster, something warm growing inside me.
I grabbed the shield, and the lion charged forward. Bracing myself, hands tightening around the metal, I prepared for impact as the wolves howled at my back. But just as I expected to be knocked over, the lion leapt over my head, and soared above me. I turned and screamed as the lion crashed into the opened mouths of the wolves.
The entire arena seemed to still, and the shield fell at my feet. The sound of its thud echoed, ringing in my ears. And I was suddenly, terrifyingly aware that something else was happening. No one was looking at the lion or the wolves anymore. Their attention had been drawn to a sudden show of lights dancing across the arena. Indigo, and orange. The heat in my chest flared.
The lion whined, its body stretched now before me, its belly exposed. Two of the wolves held the lion’s paws in their mouths, their fangs piercing its flesh. Blood oozed down their chins as they pulled in opposite directions, stretching the lion’s legs further, every step tearing its body apart.
“Lyr! LYR!”
I stilled. Something screamed inside my soul. That voice …
“LYR!”
Jules!
Jules was in my head. Jules was calling my name. Screaming. Gods, her voice! I hadn’t heard it in years. Even in my memories, the way she sounded, the way she spoke had begun to fade. But it was her. I’d recognize her voice at the end of the world.
I spun around, eyes searching with desperation, but no matter where I looked, I couldn’t find her. There was just the lion, being ripped in half, its face full of excruciating pain, its mane so fiery and red, flowing in wild waves.
Familiar waves.
My heart stopped.
Batavia red. The lion’s mane was Batavia red.
Even during its torture, it stilled with a noble calm. Its eyes met mine, holding my gaze. And I saw what I hadn’t before. Its eyes were human, alert, and intelligent. And this time, I saw the recognition in them, felt the knowing, felt the awful truth wash over me.
“LYR!” Jules screamed again, the sound heartbreakingly defeated. The lion’s face fell.
The third wolf leapt from behind, its mouth open, before it bit down on the lion’s head.
“NO!” I screamed! “NO! JULES!”
“LYR!” Meera’s voice rang through the arena.
But I couldn’t answer her. I couldn’t find her. I could only see the lion dying. See Jules dying. I could only hear the fear and terror in her voice, the sudden finding and losing of hope. I could feel my heart breaking because I was too late. Because I’d failed her. Because I’d lost her.
Again.
The vision faded, the arena disappeared and I was back in the cave, gasping, shivering. Meera was crouched before me, her hazel eyes wide. I was cold. So, so cold. Every part of me was shaking and trembling.
“I …” My chest heaved, I couldn’t stay still. “I …” My teeth chattered. The images were still fresh in my mind, swirling around painfully to the point I thought my head would explode.
“LYR!” Rhyan yelled, his voice full of worry, from across the cave. He was back from patrol.
I wanted to answer, to tell them what happened, tell them what I saw. What I learned, what I knew. I tried to stand. But I lost my balance. And then I was collapsing, my body falling.
There was a frantic yell and something warm and sturdy settled behind me. The scent of pine and musk filled my senses, cool air from an aura wrapped around my body like a blanket. For one brief second, I felt a sense of safety, of being held. But then my head fell back as I lost consciousness.