Warrior of the Drowned Empire (Drowned Empire #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MORGANA

The waves lapped against my feet, the tide soothing against the warmth of the afternoon. I slid my body down the sand, digging my heels deeper into it, loving the way it moved and shifted with me. I loved how it kept me cool beneath the sun. Loved these moments alone. I pulled back the hem of my dress, sliding it up my thighs, and then I opened my legs, letting the waters rush toward my center.

My eyes sprung open. There was a hand on my knee, the callused fingers of a warrior stroking my skin. All at once, I shifted into a seat on the bed, eyeing Aemon as I slid away from his touch. He was dressed as he always was, as an Arkturion of Ka Batavia, in golden seraphim armor, and a red cloak.

“I thought you were a king now,” I sneered. “Why are you still dressed up in your old role?”

“I didn’t know kings had such a strict dress code.”

“I didn’t know kings betrayed their lovers either,” I said.

He furrowed his eyebrows, his aura darkening. “I have not revealed myself yet to the Empire. For my errand, I remained myself in case I was seen. But soon, they will know. There will be no doubt who I am, what I can do. And why they must submit.”

“And why must I?” I asked.

His eyes moved to the indigo shard by my side. It was starting to glow, glittering from nothing more than his gaze in its direction. I could see the pull between them. See the strength he could draw from it, the strength he could bring to it.

For the past few days since I’d begun to work with the shard, I’d felt my own power increase. My energy was better than it had ever been since I developed my vorakh. And though the only thoughts that plagued my mind lately were from Parthenay, and my maid, Lissa, the girl I’d taken from the akadim, I’d found I was able to shut them out better than I ever had before. I was finding the same peace I had only previously found in sex.

“Come,” he said. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who?”

“A vorakh. A chayatim. She’s like Meera. She has visions, so she can’t read your mind. But she can show you what she’s seen. And what she’s seen is of great importance.”

“Seems convenient,” I said. “Does she plan to show me what you want me to see? Something to change my mind? To make me give you your way?”

“You think I’d stoop so low to get what I want?” he asked.

I gestured around the cave. “This is not proof enough? Dragging me and Meera here against our will? Tricking Lyr?”

“She knows Jules,” Aemon said.

I stilled.

“She’s seen a great many things that would be of interest to you. You’re discerning. You hold the indigo shard. I only left you days ago and already I feel the change in you. The growth in your power. I am glad to see it. It reminds me of the power you once possessed. I await the day you control even greater power. But first, you must see her for yourself. Judge her for yourself. Make up your own mind.”

Aemon stood, holding his hand out for me. His aura had calmed but as I reached for the shard beside me, nestled in my blankets, there was a flash of darkness in his eyes. An overwhelming surge of power that I felt down in my bones.

I slowed my breathing. “Perhaps I am not ready for a visitor just yet.”

“Do you want breakfast in bed? Do you want me to grovel? Get down on my knees for you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Lick between your legs?”

Lissa stifled a gasp in the corner.

Aemon chuckled. “Don’t worry … Lissa,” he said, pulling her name from her mind. “She likes to be watched.”

“Leave her alone.” I groaned. “I’ll come and meet your chayatim.” Despite my wariness, I was curious. And hungry to pull any memories she might have of Jules from her mind.

Carefully, I set the shard down, and walked to a pair of tall black riding boots that Parthenay had an akadim procure on my command. Before I could reach for the laces, Aemon was before me, on his knees, staring up with a level of care I didn’t think possible as he threaded and tied up each boot.

“I told you I’d get on my knees for you.”

“And between my legs,” I said.

He grinned. “Trust me, kitten, the moment you ask it of me, I will.”

Something heated inside me. A spark that reminded me of all the times we’d been together. But I stared ahead. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to forgive. I just wanted to right the wrongs in Lumeria. To free Jules. To free all of my kind. The rest was too complicated.

With the final lace tied, he smoothed his hand over my knee, letting the touch linger between us.

“I know you’re still angry with me. I understand. But do you know how many centuries I waited to find you?” he asked.

I reached for the shard, holding it above his head, keeping it tauntingly in his eyeline.

“Considering the poor execution of your plan, I would have waited longer,” I snapped.

“I couldn’t,” he said, the intensity in his eyes somehow amplified as they tracked my movements. “The time had come.”

I shook my head. “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re speaking to me, or the crystal.”

“Why can I not speak to both?” he purred. “You are so much more connected than you know, than you remember.” He rose to his feet and then reached for a black shawl, reverently wrapping it around my shoulders. “You’ll need a crown next,” he said. “ Maraaka. It will look so beautiful atop your raven hair.”

A shiver ran down my spine as he called me “queen” and I rested my fingers in his palm. I’d been calling myself queen for days. Acting like one, too. But prancing around a cave of akadim, having only two mortal subjects to do my bidding … it felt like I was playing dress up, a child in an endless fever dream. Hearing it on his lips made it feel real. Made me feel like I was true royalty.

“You like the idea,” he said, smiling seductively.

“I like a lot of ideas.”

“Stubborn girl.” He laughed.

“Lissa, wait here,” I said. “Tidy my room, and then have a long breakfast. Eat as much as you want.”

“Yes, Maraaka ,” she said, staring at her feet. She hardly ate, despite my best efforts.

“Nice meeting you, Lissa,” Aemon purred. Then turned to me, and whispered in my ear, “You don’t want her attending you at Court.”

“She fears the akadim,” I said.

He lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “And you keep her here, still?”

I didn’t need to read his mind to know his thoughts about that. But he shrugged, and led me into the Allurian Pass’s stone corridors, down the stretch of hall into the Seating Room.

Torches flickered from every corner of the cavernous walls, and all at once, the grunts from akadim fell silent as they all dropped to their knees in supplication. Hundreds of silver collars around their necks gleamed in the torchlight. I sifted through the mass of bodies, of large extended limbs that ended in claws, ones that still made me want to cower in fear.

But behind them, interspersed were more and more of the others . The ones whose eyes remained intelligent, whose bodies were clearly akadim, sharp, and deadly. And yet … less. Smaller, and not as threatening. The ones who were easier to look at.

Aemon walked me to my Seat. Not truly a Seat. But after a lifetime of referring to it as such, of living in an Empire without kings and queens to rule the twelve countries, the word “throne” still felt foreign to me. Only the Emperor had one. Yet, that was what stood before me. A throne. A throne for a king. For a queen.

I sat down, the shard gleaming in the torchlight. It seemed brighter, its unique aura pulsing with more energy than it had before.

That was from Aemon. Just his proximity triggered its true power, its full essence. And if that was all it took, what hope did I have in controlling it? In standing up to him?

This is only true without the power of the Orange Ray. My shard. The Orange Shard of the Valalumir. You could control both.

I swallowed. That was an Ereshya thought. Not one of mine.

Or was it?

The lines were becoming more blurred.

Aemon’s eyes focused on the nightmare of a court he’d assembled.

“Rise,” Aemon said at last, his arm lifted.

The akadim rose to their feet, their bodies stilling, muscled arms at their sides as they chanted, “ Maarak. Maaraka .”

I released the onyx wall in my mind, finally dropping my guard. I had the strangest feeling of being suddenly naked.

Aemon noticed at once, his head jerking in my direction before he returned to facing his monsters.

Why are they different? I asked.

His lip curled as he tilted his head to the side. Oh, you’re letting me in now?

I shrugged. I gave into your request. Now I want you to answer one of mine. Why are some of the akadim here smaller and more mortal in their appearance?

They are not mortal , he thought. They are anything but. They possess all the power of the akadim you’ve known your whole life. The same powers and inclinations as the ones who brought you here. They feast on souls. Their claws will tear a man to pieces without a thought. They are just as prone to violence, to giving into … their needs … as any other.

I swallowed, my heart thumping at the description. I’d almost tricked myself into forgetting how awful they were in the last couple of days. Forgetting why I’d pulled Lissa into my quarters. So what? Those are just miniature-sized monsters?

Aemon laughed. They are still far larger than you. And me.

But smaller than all the other akadim. It’s not just that. Their eyes are different, too. They seem …

Intelligent? he offered.

Yes.

His lip curled. I’ve been working on that for a long time. Cultivating a shift in their transformation. I cannot be everywhere at once, when I lead my army. I need generals, I need intelligence. The legions must be organized. That’s what these akadim are. Extensions of me. They can think. They can plan.

I’d barely survived the simple-minded akadim who’d taken me. The beasts were barely able to think past their most basic needs. They were incredibly violent. But easily tricked. And in the end, completely controlled by Aemon’s orders. If they hadn’t been, I wouldn’t be alive. Nor would Meera.

But akadim that could think for themselves …

I did that for you , he thought. For decades, I’ve tried to figure out how to make them more palatable. Had I accessed the shard sooner, your captivity would have been far more comfortable.

I glared. Maybe I didn’t need to be captured at all . Nor Meera! Maybe you could have asked—

Asked Asherah and Auriel to open the tomb and collect it for me? To simply hand it over?

Yes!

Kitten , he purred. We both know how that would have gone.

You weren’t asking Asherah and Auriel! You were asking Lyriana and Rhyan.

They are the same! The sooner you accept this, the better. Why else did you betray them? Why else did you keep the shard when you could have left with the forsworn?

My nostrils flared. I’d never wanted to betray them. I just understood what had to be done. I was willing to play dirty enough to make it happen. They weren’t.

But the longer Aemon looked at me, the more I began to doubt, until I shoved the thought deep into the recesses of my mind.

His lips lifted, and I knew he’d read the thought clearly. Fuck.

We can circle back to that argument again if you want , he thought . Whether they’re different or the same as their past selves. Or I can tell you what makes these new akadim truly stand apart from the others.

I stared ahead, watching their eyes track ours. They couldn’t read minds, but somehow, I still felt exposed, like they could sense what I was thinking, what I was feeling.

Heart pounding, I asked, What makes them stand out?

This time a full grin spread across his face. They can hunt in the sun.

My mouth opened. Akadim could only hunt at night. That had been the first thing every child learned about the beasts. That had been the key that protected everyone from their evil. The one comfort against the nightmares they threatened. If the sun couldn’t hurt them now …

I shook my head. Aemon, that’s too dangerous. Akadim that can think, that aren’t bound to the night … they’ll go on rampages. Destroy everything.

Not if they are under my control. Not if they are under your control.

Like Moriel had sworn he’d control them a millennia ago. How the fuck were we having the same argument in another life, in different bodies? Were we truly the same?

I could feel my stomach knotting, my heart threatening to pound through my chest, as a bigger question vied for attention. Did I want that control? Everything about this felt evil. Wrong.

And yet … if they could attack in the day, that meant they could travel in the day as well. Akadim that could plan, and organize, were akadim that could hide from soturi. These were akadim who could take legions down. These were akadim that could reach the Emperor. Reach the Imperators. Destroy an Empire.

We don’t have the numbers, kitten. Not yet. But … there might be enough to disrupt a Valabellum. Now, is there anything else you want to know?

Did you see them? I asked desperately. Did you see my sisters?

I did , Aemon thought.

I turned in my seat, my heart pounding. “And?” I practically shouted, too anxious to think.

He took my hand in his, shaking his head in admonishment. With a click of his tongue, he thought, I took the time in my travels to listen carefully. They’re safe. They’ve been taken in by Imperator Hart.

I frowned. Then they’re not safe .

The idea of safety is relative for them at the moment. But from what I’ve heard, our old friend is no longer forsworn. Thanks to Lyriana. She has made quite the deal with the Imperator. Aemon stroked the skin around my wrist. Does that worry you?

My throat went dry as I tried to process all of this. The business of dealing with Imperators never ended well. And wasn’t that the fucking point of everything I was doing? Ending their tyranny? Freeing those they oppressed? Making life somewhat fucking better in this Godsdamned world? Even if I had to burn it down first.

But if Lyr was entrenched—and so were Rhyan and Meera—to an Imperator who had control over another Guardian. I squeezed my eyes shut. The whole situation was giving me the kind of headache I hadn’t had since Bamaria.

You see how necessary the akadim have become? Aemon thought.

I shook my head, closing my mind and thoughts to him once more. “I don’t see anything except an empty room to which I was dragged to from my bed.” But in the back of my mind, there was the shadow of his response, one I was glad I could not hear. It was proof I was getting stronger—proof I could stand against him. “You promised an important guest,” I said, my voice full of irritation as I scanned the room. “Well? Where are they, Aemon?”

Aemon’s eyes darkened at my outburst, and throughout the room, I could sense the agitation of the akadim who’d been impatiently waiting for his command. Their annoyance now shifted to me. With a sudden burst of his aura, shadows darkening the cave with an oppressive weight, I realized I’d spoken out loud. Worse. I’d shouted the name no one else here was allowed to use.

“Much as I love hearing you say my name, kitten,” he said, “do not call me that here again.” His finger stroked the back of my palm, but the threat was clear.

“Moriel,” I said, the word slipping from my tongue with far too much ease for my comfort. It was as if someone else had said it, someone who had said it a million times before.

Ereshya.

“It’s time.” Aemon looked ahead. “Parthenay, please, show our guest in.”

Parthenay entered the room, her golden Valalumir star shining against her cheek as she gestured behind her. Suddenly, my heart pounded with traitorous hope. Had Aemon been lying to me? Toying with me? Could it be Jules?

But as soon as the chayatim came into view I knew it wasn’t her. She was far taller than Jules was, and possessed a frail looking body with long black hair.

She was beautiful, perhaps ten years older than Aemon, but without a touch of gray in her locks. She was gaunt in the same way Parthenay was, a result of having served the Emperor for so long. But Aemon’s guest had the frame of someone who had once been curvy, had once been built thicker, sturdier. Her skin looked like it had once been tanned, like she had once come from the South.

There was something familiar about her, something I recognized, though I was sure I’d never seen her before. She had deep set eyes, dark like Aemon’s, and full lips. Maybe it was because she was so clearly Bamarian when I’d been deprived of my people for weeks. Or the mere fact that she was vorakh that gave her a sense of familiarity to me.

“May I present, my queen, Maraaka Ereshya, reborn,” Aemon said. “Lady Morgana Batavia.”

The woman curtseyed. “It is an honor to meet you, Maraaka Ereshya, Lady Morgana.” She spoke with a smoky voice, deep and powerful. Immediately I could feel the coldness of her aura, the specific kind that came from visions. It was almost identical to Meera’s in its feel and its temperament.

“And what is your name?” I asked.

She dipped her chin, before her dark eyes settled on me. “Andromeny,” she said. “Your Majesty.”

“Andromeny,” I said. “A beautiful name. And your Ka?”

She nodded. “Ka Melvik of Bamaria.”

My eyes widened. “Ka Melvik?” I looked again at the shape of her eyes, the familiar way her features came together. Dark, and beautiful. Like his . The similarities began to jump out at me then, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it at once. The coloring, the details—she was so similar in every way, except she was a softer, more feminine version of Aemon. She could have been his twin in so many ways. Except for one marked difference.

Andromeny had a prominent beauty mark, just above her lip.

I turned to Aemon, my heart pounding as I took in his features again, as if for the first time.

He nodded. “Andromeny is my sister. She’s the one who told me who I was when I was a boy, she helped me remember. And she helped me control my vorakh. It was she who predicted the birth of every Guardian to be reborn, and many more things, until she was taken to Lethea and forced into the service of the chayatim.”

I shook my head. “No one should be taken from their home or forced into servitude. You have my sympathies. And my understanding, Andromeny.”

She nodded graciously. “Your Majesty. Thank you.”

“When were you taken?” I asked.

“Twenty years ago,” she said, her voice sounding suddenly much older, and tired.

“You survived your Revelation Ceremony?” I asked. If she was Aemon’s older sister, she would have turned nineteen thirty years ago at least.

She nodded. “I survived the Imperator’s scrutiny that night. As well as the High Lady of Bamaria’s—your mother’s. But I felt the power of it, I knew what I was. I redirected the magic that night, and tricked them all. They never knew. Not for years.”

My jaw dropped. I’d heard so few references to the time when my mother ruled. Even fewer references to those Lumerians who survived the Revelation Ceremony if they already had their vorakh. Most weren’t like us—most developed their vorakh later.

“What happened?” I asked. “How was it that you were discovered?”

“I was in a vision, a powerful one. It told me what had to be done. And I listened. I killed two.” Her eyes flashed with gold, like a bolt of lightning. “Two mages.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Two mages? Killed? In Bamaria?” I asked, too stunned to stop myself.

“A lord and a lady,” she said, her aura pulsing with something like agitation. “Nobles. High ranking. Wealthy. They were … in my way. Blocking me, hiding it. I was close. So close,” she said, her eyes distant. “So close to ridding the Empire of an ancient evil.” Suddenly her gaze focused, and she stared right at me. “To protect my brother, to protect Moriel, to protect my God, but they tried to stop me.” Her voice rose. She was angry, agitated and frantic. Clearly still angry she’d been thwarted. Angry she hadn’t finished what she’d begun. But within seconds, her frenetic energy dissipated, replaced with something I could only name as satisfaction.

Andromeny smiled, her lips lengthening into something almost sensual. “When they refused me, I didn’t give up. I listened to my vision. I ripped them to pieces.”

I barely held in my gasp. Aemon covered my hand with his, his grip steadying me.

I ripped them to pieces.

I knew of only one nobleman and noblewoman who’d died that way. And it had happened twenty years ago. In Bamaria.

Aemon held my hand, his grip tightening to keep me still.

She had her reasons , he thought. Let her show you, so you’ll understand. So, you can see the path forward. For all of us.

Reasons? I stared at him. She’s farther than Lethea!

Aemon’s jaw twitched. You say that now, but you forget, she’s just like Meera. She’s just like Jules. His mouth hardened.

They never killed anyone!

Not yet. Aemon narrowed his eyes. That you know of.

I felt sick, and even without knowing a single detail, or having any proof before me, I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was true.

Not Meera. But Jules. That was entirely possible.

Sometimes the end justifies the means. Sometimes it’s all one can do to survive a world that has been designed to work against them , he thought.

The backs of my eyes burned.

She’s like us , Aemon continued in my mind. Do not judge. Listen to her. She can help you. Tell you things you need to know. Things to help your cause. Information that will help your sisters.

And I should believe you on this? When you yourself don’t care about helping them.

I care about succeeding. And your sisters are powerful forces in this war, whether we like it or not. Anything can still happen. They may aid us. Or I may destroy them. It all remains to be seen.

And I’m just supposed to be okay with that? I could hear the hysteria in my mind. It was like being Ereshya all over again, hearing her lover tell her that after millennia of fighting against akadim, we’d be allying with them.

So, she’s taken lives. So have I! And so will you in the coming war. You’re young now. But you won’t be for long.

Killing in battle isn’t the same as what she did.

Consider this then. Aemon leaned toward me. Will you accept another millennia of suffering, and slavery? Another millennia of vorakh being taken hostage, stolen from their homes and forced into enslavement under Lumeria Nutavia?

All I could do was glare back at him, my chest tightening. You know I won’t.

Then calm yourself. And remember that you are queen.

I snatched my hand from his, and stared back at my so-called court, at my assembly of monsters and liars and … murderers. I tried to settle into my throne, to look unaffected, but my heart was still hammering through my chest. More akadim were moving in agitation, still picking up on my emotions. Particularly the smaller ones. The smarter ones. The day ones.

“Do you have any other questions for me, my queen? Any questions I can answer for you?” Andromeny asked. Her voice suddenly sounded innocent. And younger. Icy almost. The way Meera’s did.

She’s like Meera , I reminded myself. But she wasn’t—she couldn’t be.

I swallowed. I’d never feared vorakh before, not the way everyone else did. But Andromeny was different. She had killed. She had become the very thing we feared Meera becoming. She was the thing Meera most feared about herself. But I tried to push the thoughts down, to regain my composure. I needed to understand, to find my way forward. Maybe I didn’t understand. Maybe she had her reasons.

Or maybe, I could help her. Find a way, a path forward for her, so when Meera’s time came, I was ready.

I nodded at Andromeny. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask about the killings—not yet.

“Did you know I was coming, Andromeny?” I asked instead, my voice shaking. “Did you know that I would be born, that I was a Guardian?”

She nodded. “Yes. I knew all of that, and more. A lady, a Goddess, and a queen, Your Majesty. May I show you? I see a great many things. Some inevitable. And some that require a different choice to be made, a new seed to be sown for fruition.”

I frowned. “You can see possibilities?”

“I can.”

“And your visions? How do they appear to you? As symbolic? Or are they more direct?”

“I see paths. No symbols. Just outcomes.”

I could hear the thundering beat with each pulse of my heart as I gestured for her to approach. And then I opened my mind to the mage who’d brought forth one of the most vicious vorakh hunters in Bamaria.

The vorakh who murdered Tristan’s parents.