Chapter Nine #2
‘You didn’t mention a fear of the dark,’ she whispers, as though the flowers might hear.
‘I don’t fear the dark,’ I reply. ‘I fear what I cannot see within it.’
She pauses for a breath. ‘You should be much more frightened by the things you fail to see in the light, Eira.’
I screw up my face as I try to figure out what she could possibly mean by that. For a girl so often direct in her words, it’s quite conflicting that she’s so partial to speaking in riddles.
She guides me the rest of the way without either of us continuing the conversation. We trudge through a maze of thick hedges and archways, taking many sharp corners and even deviating off the gravel path into the silence of the wet night’s grass.
I squint as something appears in the emptiness before us, a cubic lump of grey in the murkiness of the nighttime light. My eyes adjust as we get closer, and I slip my arm from the loop of Calli’s when I finally make out the writing carved into the grey stone above the doorway.
Nykros tes ges. Written in the original language of Valtayre, an ancient tongue from which our words are derived from today. Something useless my mother had my governess teach me, seemingly in place of any lessons about the world that exists around me.
Nykros tes ges. Dead of the earth.
Something twists in my abdomen, and I stare with my mouth open, waiting for words to find me. They clog up in my throat before spluttering out one burst of shock.
‘You brought me to a grave?’ I shake my head with the confusion of it.
‘I don’t understand. How is bringing me to some sort of tomb going to help explain why I should trust El—’ I’m still not quite at the point I can comfortably say his name without feeling at risk of summoning him if I utter it one too many times. ‘Your brother.’
Calli smiles weakly, her gaze dropping to her foot as she lightly kicks it through the grass. ‘I need you to see for yourself his incentive, what motivates him.’
‘I would’ve taken your word for it, Calli.’
‘No.’ She shakes her head. ‘You would have convinced yourself I was lying to you with some ulterior motive. I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but you seem very wary of believing the things we tell you. And I don’t blame you. Not after the shared history of our kingdoms.’
My posture loosens. Of course, I do not trust these people.
As open and generous as Calli seems, she was still daughter to the king that hungered for more of the Relic’s power than he was given.
I sigh, knowing she’s right. I won’t be able to take her word as truth.
I quite literally must see it to believe it.
‘Lead the way then.’
The gate to the tomb is rusted and lets out a blood-curdling scream as Calli pushes it open with both hands and a great deal of her strength. She stands with her back to the grated metal of the gate and ushers me inside.
The tomb’s interior is remarkably well kept considering the state of the main building, but the scent of damp and decay still clings to the atmosphere inside.
I don’t struggle to see nearly as much as I had in the tunnel of garden, certain shapes come into focus as my eyes adjust to the distilled moonlight gushing from a triangular hole in the ceiling, shining a spotlight on the two stone caskets lying parallel to one another in the centre of the tomb.
My throat closes up at the jarringly detailed stone bodies that lie arms crossed atop the lid of both caskets – one broad-shouldered man, and one slender woman whose face looks impossibly soft considering the material it is moulded from.
A sleeping couple of stone.
The wall above them is carved with two names, side-by-side like the caskets. Garron Daegon. Della Daegon. With only one date of death between them.
My gaze shoots to Calli, who still has her back to the gate with an evident reluctance to enter the tomb.
‘These are your parents.’
She nods. ‘Only, they’re much less animated now.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, feeling the ache of my own grief in my joints. ‘How devastating it must have been to lose both of them on the same day. I can’t imagine the pain.’
Calli’s chin quivers.
‘The death of one immortal is always unexpected, but two, I can hardly comprehend—’
‘They were not immortals.’
She jerks her head sideways at the writing on the wall, indicating I read further.
Sure enough, inscribed under the names and date are words in the same ancient tongue used outside. I translate them out loud, my breath visible as I whisper.
‘Mortal souls we must deliver. Eternity we must break.’
By the Relic. How is that even possible? Mortals were pushed into non-existence by the Relic – its energy slowing the effects of age and strengthening human frailties. All humans turned immortal. As was the intention of the Virtuae Gods, so that we may forever let the world prosper.
‘You’re humans?’ I question, my heart battering against my ribs, my mind reeling with the realisation.
Calli shifts on her feet, her face clouded with sadness and something I can’t quite place.
‘We’re as good as. My parents were not born mortal, as were most citizens of Umbra at some point.’
My brows pinch together. ‘And now?’
‘Now.’ Calli tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘All of Umbra is powerless.’
‘But not Eliaz?’ The name slips out all oily and revolting before I can help it.
‘It is not that straightforward. And I do agree with my brother that it is his decision whether to disclose that information or not.’
‘I’m failing to see why you brought me here then. What does your parents dying mortal have to do with Lillienne?’