32. Kiera
Chapter 32
Kiera
T here are simply some things you can never get accustomed to. One of those things is the Void. The quasi-empty soulless dimension between realms is, perhaps, one of the most disturbing places I’ve ever experienced in my life and that is saying something considering I trained and worked as an assassin for ten years. I’ve seen the darkest parts of humanity in Anatol. Witnessed gruesome murders in secret markets for little more than the coin the dead held in their pocket and then witnessed again, the absolute callous behavior of everyone else who merely stepped over the bodies and continued on as if it was perfectly natural.
The Void is worse. At least in back alleys and rough taverns and secret markets, you can potentially see when a killer is coming for you. The Void, however, turns all of a person’s senses into useless tools. It is sightlessness and unknowing, and that was only the first time. The second time is much worse.
Ruen, Kalix, and Theos disappear from view. One moment there and the next gone as fog rolls in, wrapping around my legs and arms and sweeping me into an all-new space. I hold still—hoping that, just like last time, I manage to get through this part intact.
I inhale, casting my mind back to Makeda’s warning before I’d left her chambers and she’d disappeared off to wherever she needed to be to perform this next ceremony.
See not with your eyes, she had said, but with the sight all Fae hold within themselves and you will see past the spells they cast.
Fae. Not Mortal Gods. Because as Caedmon had revealed weeks before, the Gods are not Gods, but Atlanteans and Atlanteans are of a larger species known as Fae from a distant world that I know nothing about. A part of me wonders what it must have been like in their world. Had they been safe? Likely not, considering they snuck into Anatol and set themselves up as Divine Beings to rule over the rest of us. But if I am Ariadne and Henric’s daughter, then that means I’m more Atlantean, more Fae, than mortal. I belong more to their world in my blood than I do to this one.
I open my eyes, taking in the fog and rolling white and gray clouds. A shadow of something massive slithers into my periphery. I keep my gaze trained forward, ignoring it even when the slithering continues for several long seconds as if the creature is trying to get my attention.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
The new sound from the fog causes the small hairs on my arms to rise. Another creature's shadow scuttles out of the gloom, this one just as long and massive but with dozens upon dozens of small legs like that of a centipede save for the fact that it appears as large as a horse-drawn carriage. I hold my breath even though my hands itch to reach out, to seek Kalix or Ruen or Theos. They are there, I can feel them close by, but just like me, they are trapped in their own version of the Void. And like me, this time, they don't try to reach out or call for each other.
The monster creeps steadily forward, faster and faster, not stopping as it barrels right towards me. See not with your eyes, I repeat to myself. See not with your eyes. Far easier said than done, but I try and in order to do so, I need to cut off my sight entirely.
Despite the massive creature speeding towards me without any sign of stopping, I close my eyes and hold still. Inhale. Exhale. I breathe deeply, focusing only on the air moving in and out of my lungs. The sound the creature's legs make—that tik. tik. tiking —veers to my left at the last second and for a moment, I feel the brush of not hard scales, but of soft fur. I lean to the side, biting down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from opening my eyes.
Not yet. It's not time.
With my eyes closed and my breaths slowing to something even and relaxed, I begin to pick up the pieces I missed the last time I was here. The smell for one is neither foul nor enticing, but a scent of absolute nothingness. There is no sweetness, no sour acidity in the air that would give me an idea of other things in the area. There's no scent of animal feces or decaying rot. The temperature, too, is neither burning nor cold, but instead an even sensation of air around the bare parts of my body. It's ... comfortable.
With that thought, I sink further down into my heels. No uneven terrain, no strain on the arches of my feet, just simple flat land. When my eyes open again, the fog is rolling away, drifting and parting. Just before we touch down, I see it—what Makeda had alluded to. A place beyond our own realm that is unending glass. A reflection of itself over and and over again, as it is above so it is below.
I blink and the real Void disperses as bodies appear, walking out of the fog onto dirt and grass. Trees surround me and I turn in a circle, frowning as the familiar scent of pine and wet soil invades my nostrils. A forest, but not just any forest.
"The Hinterlands..."
At first, I think I've voiced my suspicion aloud, but a second later, I recognize that the words are spoken in such a light tone that the cadence doesn't match my own voice. Turning my head, I stare down at a short woman dressed in a pair of loose brown trousers and an ill-fitting albeit well-crafted light blue tunic. Long rows of black braids stretch from her scalp all the way down to her backside. A quick glance over my opposite shoulder reveals that the Darkhavens are not far.
Curiously, though, I turn back to the girl. "How do you know?" I ask.
She doesn't look at me but instead continues facing the row of thick tree trunks in the nearby distance. "I always wondered what it would look like," she replies, her voice almost squeaky with its natural pitch. "A place that even the Gods didn't care to rule." When she turns to me, it's with big brown eyes so wide and swallowed by her pupils that it makes my heart jump a bit. She looks both scared and in awe. "I never knew it could be so beautiful."
I want to respond, to tell her that no matter how pretty a place may seem, the danger within can often ruin that image. I don't. I can't. Before I manage to recover, she walks off, joining a few other Mortal Gods in the vicinity. I watch her go as I sense the Darkhavens draw nearer.
"She must be from Perditia," Theos says.
"Why do you think that?" I ask, though I can guess. She didn't look familiar and surely had she been at Riviere, I would have seen her before now.
Theos' golden gaze meets mine. "Perditia is a mountainous region," he says. "They have no forests nearby and many Mortal Gods sent there have never left."
Oh. I suppose her wonder at the forest makes sense now. Still ... I pity that today's ceremony will likely destroy any love for this place she might have held previously. Because today, we hunt the Hinterlands for the Gods' prizes.
I hope we can all survive it.
As the last of the fog rolls away, the God Council comes into view. All of them save for one—the most important one. Tryphone is strangely absent, not that it stops Azai from stepping forward and trying to claim his space. He ignores the fact that Danai, God Queen is there, and stations himself in front of the others.
I could laugh.
Without Tryphone leading them and with Caedmon locked away in secret, the three women who stand behind Azai are likely far more powerful than the man they allow to think leads them. They stand behind him like mothers watching a child take charge with the safety and protection and none of the consequences of his actions. Perhaps it's always been that way for Azai, or perhaps he’s just a greedy bastard.
A hand slips into mine, scarred fingers curling around mine, and I squeeze them back, assuring Ruen that I’m fine and so is he. We all are. For now.
“Welcome to the Hinterlands!” Azai’s booming voice captures the attention of all who made it through the Void. The students drift closer.
“Today marks the day of the first Hunt since the Gods entered this world,” Azai continues.
My gaze moves away from him to the side. The Gods don’t stand on a hastily built dais but on a rocky stone that juts out of the ground at an angle. To either side, both Zalika and Nubo stand with their legs shoulder-width apart and arms clasped in front of them. The sight of them reminds me of what I’d overheard before being rescued by Makeda. When we return to Ortus, I will have to send Regis a note. It’s clear that Nubo is likely the man Carcel is working with, though the reason for it is still a mystery.
I narrow my eyes on the man, trying to see the skeletal frame of him beneath his skin as I had the night before. One would think the light of day would reveal all, but it appears that for this man, the sun is a cloak as much as the clothes on my back.
Reaching down, I curve my fingers around one dagger weighed down at my hip. The familiar handle of a weapon under my grip is reassuring even if I know that today will be anything but.
“As you well know,” Azai says to the crowd of rapt listeners, “the Gods have chosen not to invade the Hinterlands and you may have wondered why.” One corner of his mouth curves upward as he unfolds his arms from across his chest and plants both hands on his hips before continuing. “There is but one reason: Benevolence.”
I snort. I can’t help it. The very thought of someone putting the Gods together with the term ‘benevolence’ is nothing if not an amusement at best and a lie at worst. As eyes the same color as Theos’ meet mine over the various heads of the students and narrow, I can guess that Azai knows what I’m thinking. I pull my hand from Ruen’s to put it to the back of my neck and crack it to the side.
“There are many creatures that lie within the domain of the Hinterlands,” Azai continues. “Beautiful and dangerous as they are, all that reside within Anatol are our children.”
I bite down on my lower lip to keep from laughing. Azai’s gaze sharpens on me with a keen look and I can’t help it; I lift my free hand and give him a little wave. Behind him, I spy Makeda’s expression. Her lips pinch together and she turns away as her shoulders shake. Gygaea just glares back at me as Danai stands between the two other women and sways from side to side as if she doesn’t even realize where she is.
Azai bares his teeth and several students to the front of the crowd all take an instinctual step back. “We have forbidden the act of dwelling and hunting in these lands because the creatures that live here are more than just ordinary,” Azai continues, his tone sharper than it had been. He sucks in a breath and slowly releases it. I watch as his entire body goes lax, and this time, when he smiles, it’s with cruel intention. His eyes stay locked with mine as he speaks. “Today, it will be your responsibility to track down these creatures and kill as many as you can.”
One brave student close to the front but not quite in front of Azai raises an arm and Azai’s gaze snaps to the man. “You,” he says, pointing.
“Y-yes, My Lord,” the student, a burly man with hair cut close to his scalp and broad shoulders, replies. He looks strangely familiar, but I can’t quite place him. “May I ask—if it would not offend—what prize will we receive from hunting these animals?”
Azai’s smile widens. “Prize, you ask?” He strokes his golden beard, decorated and woven with beads today. “Well, for one, these animals will grant all who take their lives heightened abilities.”
A surge of voices rise, excitement flowing over the students at this news. A chill creeps down my spine and I say nothing as I cross my arms back over my chest and watch on.
“Yes,” Azai says thoughtfully and then nods as if deciding something. As he opens his mouth, his next words boom out once more over the assembled students. “The one who kills the most creatures and brings us their corpses will receive the special favor of the Gods,” he announces.
My stomach drops out from beneath me. “Kiera?” Theos’ curious voice is on my right. I shift uncomfortably on my feet and glance over my shoulder at where the opening to the forest looms.
Azai’s laughter brings my head back around to find the God of Strength with his hands still on his hips but his head thrown back in amusement. “You find that acceptable, yes?” He straightens and all nearby jerk their heads in acknowledgement.
I take a step back, closer to the woods. “Shall we take advantage?” I hear Kalix ask.
“No—” Ruen begins to say at the same time that I turn and snap, “Yes.”
Kalix wastes no time as Azai calls out, “Let the Hunt begin!”
It’s too late. I don’t have to look back to see that Azai’s promise has done the exact opposite of what I’d hoped for—he’s incited their blood thirst, their desire for power, and acceptance.
Another of Makeda’s warnings enters my mind as I race towards the tree line.
See not with your eyes. Hear not with your ears. Sense not with your flesh. All the connections that you have made reside within your soul. Use the threads your parents left within you at your creation to find who you seek.
Without closing my eyes as I jump over a fallen tree and leap across a ravine—sensing the Darkhavens fast on my tail—I reach for those threads. They appear in my mind’s eye like strings of spider silk, glimmering and sticky, but also … lethal.
All it takes is one word, one name, and they know who to find.
Maeryn.