18. Kiera
Chapter 18
Kiera
A s the early gray of dawn begins to peer through the window of my bedchamber, I sense Ruen leave the bed. I lie awake between the sheets as I hear soft male voices in the hallway. No doubt the others—including Maeryn—heard us. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. Perhaps it was all the years of watching Regis fuck anything in a skirt and accidentally seeing him naked far more than I ever care to admit, but the idea that sex should be hidden has never been quite one I've taken to. Still, as I listen to the sounds of Ruen talking to most likely Kalix and Theos, I close my eyes and try to sink back into the comfortable darkness of sleep.
Sometime later, I open my eyes to find that I'm still alone and the voices in the corridor are gone. With an aching head and a sore place between my thighs, I frown as I use the wash basin to bathe myself as well as I'm able. It appears that making the bed isn't the only thing Ortus Terra do since the water has obviously been replaced. No, that's not the reason for the confusion lingering through me, but I can't quite pinpoint the reason.
I delve through my pack, annoyed by my lack of preparations for this trip—not that we'd been given much time or that I'd had much in the way of items to bring anyway. "Brutal on a woman's wardrobe," I mutter absently, noticing the rip in the back of the tunic I'd worn the night before. My breast wrap is also destroyed, so I make do by withdrawing a dagger and cutting the tunic into long strips before tying them together.
After I've finished remaking the band, I wrap myself and then quickly dress in the only remaining tunic I have left as well as my trousers. Outside my room, the hallway remains empty, but the soft sound of movements and voices echo from the furthest Darkhaven door. I arrive and knock once before letting myself in. All three Darkhavens are present with Kalix slowly whittling a chunk of wood down to what looks like a stake by the window and Theos and Ruen sitting at a table by the hearth, their heads bent over old tomes.
I blink at the sight of so many books spread over the surface of the table. "Where did those come from?"
Ruen lifts his head at the same time as Theos. Unable to meet his eyes, I look to the golden Darkhaven for an answer. "There's a library here," Theos supplies. "One of Kalix's serpents brought back its location last night and he and I went there. They have no Terra to care for the place so they're all worn and rather dusty and unkempt but still readable."
If they'd been gone the night before, perhaps it was possible they hadn't heard the ruckus Ruen and I had made. I allow myself to drift closer to the table, peering over Theos' shoulder at the scribblings beyond. "What are you looking for?"
"Information on these rites the Gods plan to have us perform," Ruen answers.
Just as I open my mouth to say something along the lines of it being obvious that the rites are just an excuse for the Gods to keep us here, a paper is slid beneath the door. The four of us freeze. There'd been no sound of a person on the other side, no footsteps, or even breath to alert us to another individual so close by. With our heightened hearing and my years in the Underworld, at least one of us should have heard it.
Kalix is off his perch in a split second, crossing the room and yanking the door open to peer into the hallway. His face twists into a scowl. "There's no one," he grits out before slamming the door. His green gaze turns to the folded note on the floor as if he's debating on whether or not to crush it beneath his boot.
I go to it before he can finalize that decision and bend to pick it up. The page itself is yellowed with uneven edges. It's folded once with no envelope to cover it. "They knew we were here," I murmur thoughtfully as I slide a finger between the folds to open it.
"Of course they did." Ruen pushes back his chair and stands, coming over to where Kalix and I are staring down at the parchment in my hand. "They probably heard our voices."
Theos is the last one to drift over to where we stand as we stare down at the neatly scrawled words on the note.
We welcome you to the first rite, children of the Gods.
Wear your new gifts upon this night of the Cleansing, and
when the clock strikes nine times, we will see you in the garden of statues.
There is no signature as if the note could be from any one of the God Council or, more likely, all of them. I consider the God Queen and the things that had been said in the prison below the night before. Ariadne is the Goddess of Darkness and Shadow, daughter to the God King Tryphone and God Queen Danai, and ... even if I don't wish to admit it, she is my mother. The likeness of our features cannot be denied. The conclusion of that knowledge is that I am the granddaughter of the God King and Queen. Tryphone is my grandfather and Danai is my grandmother.
How can I face them now?
Hands cup my shoulders and drag me back against a wide, barrel chest. The motion frees me from the torment of my thoughts. I look up into the dark midnight blue of Ruen's eyes. No words pass between us. There are no words that will make this any easier. I clench the parchment in my fist. A scraping noise of wood on wood slips through the door and as one, all of our heads turn in the same direction. Theos moves towards the door and pulls it open to reveal a black lacquered box with no etching into its shiny wooden surface.
Kill the God King, Caedmon had said. That is my mission, my purpose. It is the reason my mother stayed away when I needed someone to save me. Of all the things I've done, the people I've killed and denza I've collected, I've never even once considered that I would cross this line. Familicide. My destiny is wrought with twisted vines and grotesque expectations, but only I can make this choice. Do I let the last part of my soul be consumed by the taint of murder once more? Or is there a way to convince the God King to stop?
"Well, this is unexpected." Theos' words repeat the necessity of dragging me out of my internal reverie as he turns, holding up a long strip of fabric that's embroidered with fine etchings of gold along the seams and hems. "It's just fabric." Theos turns it, shaking the long black fabric out. "There's no holes for the legs."
I'd be amused by the confused expression on his face were it not for the fact that I'm still trapped in my thoughts and the fear of what I might have to do. The answer, however, comes from a soft feminine voice beyond the doorway. I look up to find Maeryn standing there, a long strip of fabric that's equally black, but nearly translucent in one hand and a paper much like the one I'm clutching in my fist in the other. Her normally pale face has taken on a waxy hue, the dark circles beneath her eyes causing her face to appear more sunken and almost skeletal like all of those who reside on Ortus.
"It's a mors pallium ,” she says. "It's a garment of ancient times." Her words don't explain the dawning dread that's converted her normally serene features into that of a terrified child.
Ruen's hands fall away from my shoulders as he rounds the group of us and moves towards the door. "How do you know?" he asks, pausing an arm's length from where she stands.
Maeryn's throat works as she swallows, glancing down at the fabric in her hand as if it's a snake coiled and ready to strike, before her eyes return to his. "I studied the ancient ones at Riviere," she croaks.
Theos lowers the fabric back into the box and frowns at her, but Ruen is the one to speak.
"What do these garments mean, Maeryn?" Ruen asks, his voice impossibly soft.
Maeryn releases a noise unlike any I've ever heard from her, like a wounded animal as her fingers tighten on the fabric in her grip. The paper in her hand flutters to the floor, forgotten, as she clutches at the thin cloth. Her fingers tighten, knuckles going bone white as she directs her eyes down at the thing almost accusingly.
“It was erased in history books.” Her words are practically a whisper, they're so light. “They were a shame brought to those who had committed the utmost betrayal of the high ancestors of Anatol. Before even the Gods came, they were a sign of evil. Caedmon…”
When she looks up once more, her gaze moves past Ruen and Theos and even Kalix as he drifts closer to the open doorway. Tears fill her gaze, fear evident in their porcelain green depths, before cascading down her hollow cheeks. “Do you think he knew?” she asks. “Is that why he taught me about them?”
Ruen is infinitely gentle as he steps into the hallway and cups her shoulders, turning her to face him. Even though her body goes, her eyes stay on mine. I don’t know why, but the image of her standing there with her normally vibrant features so dull and lifeless, I feel as if I’m looking into a horrible vision of the future.
Death all around us. Her eyes unseeing, staring out from a mass of staked bodies. Naked limbs intertwined with bones. Bile crawls up my throat.
“What do they mean?” Ruen asks again, shaking her slightly.
Her mouth forms the words, but the rushing of blood in my ears makes hearing them futile. It doesn’t matter, though, I can still read her lips and know the curse she speaks.
“Death comes for you.”