Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
EVONY
Your pleas are useless. The girl stays with me as payment for your son’s crimes. Write again, and I’ll come for your youngest.
Evony – Aedrialis, Sultira
The Juniper Sea sparkled like a gemstone against the navy clouds in the distance. The sunshine beat down on Aedrialis like a spotlight from above as I shoved my way through the gathering crowd at the River Harbor. The line of docking ships caused a stir amongst the people of the capital.
Families gathered along the docks as refugees from the haunted Island of Kayj poured out of the ships. Nearly two thousand, to be expected. That was what Ronan had said. Or Lord Merik, as he was referred to now that he was high steward of Sultira. I rolled my eyes.
Still, I was grateful he agreed to take me on as a ward. Since Drystan and Ezrich left, I’d stayed as busy as possible with the agrippa herd, but now that Ronan’s control over the city had settled, the trainers at Cantor Manor had things under control. This city still felt weird to me. Foreign.
I’d begged Dad to bring me here after Lyvia and Bayne had come to stay with us in Rivaner. Lyvia made it sound so exciting, so different from our small mountain lake town.
And now it felt… veiled.
As if a sheet separated the harsh, clamoring crowds, bleating animals, and the combined stench of piss, old ale, and fresh bread. I was here, and I wasn’t. I was surrounded by people, constantly, but I drifted through the busy streets like a ghost. Alone.
An old man barked a curse at me as I slipped past him, nudging him harder than intended to get through the growing crowds and nearing the largest of the ships. That was where Ronan said he’d be.
Tall with light skin and short, sandy hair. Around Lyvia’s age. Grayish-green eyes. I think that was what Ronan said. I was listening. Mostly. I pressed onto my tiptoes to get a better view as people continued to flood in front of me.
I tripped as a middle-aged woman shoved her way past me, catching myself on a grouchy old man, and avoided landing face-first in the icy mix of mud and horse shit. The woman cursed at me as I shoved her right back and slipped out of her grasp before she could get a handful of my cloak.
I flipped her a rude gesture without looking back and trotted to where the gangplank had lowered.
A tall man matching Vander’s description strode down the long wooden plank with a large pack slung over his shoulder.
“Vander Stryke?” I called, stepping forward.
His eyes flashed my direction, and a weird, warm feeling ran down my abdomen. I swallowed the lump in my throat as his lips widened into a smile, and he strode the last few lengths of the gangplank to stand in front of me.
Gray eyes, I realized. Not grayish green. And I couldn’t stop staring at them.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice soft as his brows pinched up. He ran a hand over the short stubble on his jawline.
My throat bobbed, and I took a deep breath. Holy shit, he smelled good. Like pure sex. Not that I knew what that smelled like.
“You’re Vander Stryke?” I asked, finally remembering how to form words.
“I am.”
“I’m Evony Hunt. High Steward Merik sent me to find you.” The words tumbled from my lips in a jumbled mess, and I tucked a thin braid behind my ear as my thumb rubbed against the lucky arrowhead in my pocket.
Vander’s light brows tilted up in amusement, and he nodded his head. “After you, my lady.”
Ronan scratched the short beard that he seemed to have a hard time keeping shaved. Ruby red light floated in through the oval windows, casting a rubelline veil over the long table in the center of the room.
His light curls bounced as he strode across the Grand Council chamber in the highest tower of Mount Telum, thanking me and smiling as Vander Stryke followed me into the room.
“Welcome home, Van.” Ronan smiled, clasping hands with Vander and clapping a hand to his shoulder in greeting.
Vander smiled and nodded. “Thank you, High Steward.”
Ronan cocked his head, his light brows pinching before he huffed a laugh. “After Odessa and Lotrennia… I think Ronan will do just fine, my friend.”
“Of course.” Vander nodded, chuckling as he took a seat.
I slid into a chair next to him as Ronan strode to the edge of the room and poured two cups of ale. I ground my teeth as he slid a cup of water to me, handing the goblet of ale to Vander and taking a long swig himself before getting seated.
“We’ve been cut off from Kayj since the rubelline activation of the castle,” Ronan began. “We have no idea how, or why, it happened, but with a nullifier this massive, there’s been no way to use the orb to communicate with allies in Lotrennia or Kayj.”
Vander’s gray eyes followed curiously as Ronan motioned to the round orb in the center of the table, covered with a black cloth.
“How long have you been cut off?” Vander asked, leaning forward and taking a swig of ale.
I stared at his neck as he swallowed, feeling strangely warm.
“Three months,” Ronan answered. “It happened right after Drystan harnessed the Advetis Bone. Evony was with him when it happened.”
Vander’s eyes slid to mine, and something funny happened to my stomach.
“He transported us to a cave on Kayj,” I piped in. “There was a battle. Some creatures came through an arch.”
Vander shifted, turning toward me with wide eyes. His light brows raised in what felt like appreciation. “And you made it back here after that?”
I swallowed and gave him a quick nod before darting my eyes back to Ronan.
“I wasn’t in the cave when it happened, but the others called it the Vael Lacrima,” Vander murmured, turning back to Ronan.
“The Gate of the World. They said two gods… No…” He paused, his eyes flitting to the covered orb at the center of the table.
“Embodied. That’s what they said. Two Embodied came out of the archway before they were forced back into the gate. ”
My stomach flipped, and Ronan’s face paled.
“How did they force them back?” Ronan asked, setting his goblet down.
“There was a battle,” Vander continued, nodding to me. “Lord Astraeus drew them back with two rubellines, but they took him with them.”
My mouth fell open.
“Lyvia and Tiberius went after him…” Vander trailed off, his eyes dipping.
A tight pressure pinched my chest. Lyvia and Tiberius were—
“And? Have they returned?” Ronan asked, shaking his head.
“Of that I don’t know. But the arch remained open. I’m sure they’ll return.” Vander shook his head and offered me a sympathetic look.
My eyes fell to my hands. They all leave…
Ronan let out a low curse, his voice hoarse. “Olienna warned us about the Embodied. That they’d be back for the powers of the Bellators.” He ran a hand over his face before crossing his arms and pacing the length of the table.
“So Dark King Daimos wasn’t creating a weapon on Kayj, he was opening a gate,” Ronan continued, moving to the corner of the room where several unrolled scrolls lounged in a messy pile. The ancient papers swished as he riffled through them. I stood and moved across the room to help.
Ronan swiftly rolled up several scrolls, placing them in my arms as Vander appeared at our sides.
“Where have I seen the word gate…” Ronan muttered, his brows narrowed as he continued rummaging.
Vander’s arm brushed against mine as he reached across the desk and tugged an unmarked, tightly wound scroll from the overflowing shelf against the wall.
“Where are these from?” I asked as Vander handed me the scroll.
Ronan looked up and helped me gently unroll the ancient text.
“Yes, this is it,” he said hurriedly, nodding his thanks. “These were from King Saros’s private library.”
A single line of messy, cursive handwriting scribbled across the center of the scroll.
“‘The gates will remain closed, unlocked only upon the gathering of the eight,’” I recited as my brows narrowed.
Ronan’s hand dropped to the desk as he straightened, and his gaze cut to the oval window across the room.
“Eight,” he stressed, shaking his head softly. “Eight Bellator powers. There were eight powers on Kayj when the gate was opened.”
My lips parted, and my head shook slightly. “How is that possible?” I asked.
“Lyvia was there with the Transcindiel and Obscura. Bayne and Nerissa were there with the Soleia. Olienna had stolen the Aeterna Bone, and her power was Palaega. Selvina had harnessed the Ramadiel. Drystan showed up with the Advetis…” Ronan trailed off, his fingers rising as he ticked off each Bellator power.
“That still leaves one,” I continued, shaking my head. “Celestyn.”
“Right,” Ronan murmured as he nodded. “Olienna said her little army of creatures… the… What did you call them again?”
Vander’s gaze followed Ronan’s as he turned to me, and a blush tingled up my neck.
“Ganels… ‘Angels’ in Old Votruvian,” I answered, tucking my hands in the pockets of my leathers.
“Olienna said she’d left the Celestyn Bone with the ganels,” Ronan continued. “But you’d never seen them with it, right?”
My braids swayed as my head shook, and I replayed my months spent with the little pig-nosed, winged creatures that lived in the tunnels of the Lumerians.
I’d never seen Olienna, or rather, the Stone Witch, their previous master.
And while Gork and I had our own weird way of communicating—mostly through facial expressions, though I tried teaching him to read and write—we didn’t converse about Bellator powers… of which I knew nothing at the time…
“No,” I answered. “I don’t think so. Drystan let me examine the Advetis Bone plenty of times after he’d opened it. And Lyvia’s description of the other bones of power…”
Ronan nodded. “Round or oval, smooth and…”
“‘Subtle striations and even tiny canals’,” I recited in my best Lyvia voice, pretending to shove invisible glasses up my nose.
The corner of Ronan’s eyes crinkled as if he might chuckle, but his face fell. My stomach sank, remembering her unknown fate.
Ronan ran a hand over his face. “So, you didn’t see any bones of power while you were in the Lumerians with the ganels.”
“Maybe Olienna just said that to throw you off?” I asked, tilting my head. “She betrayed everyone in the end. She stole the Aeterna Bone and turned on Lyvia and the others on Kayj. Maybe she had the Celestyn Bone with her the entire time?”
“I don’t think so,” Vander muttered. “At least, the others didn’t think so.”
I inhaled a deep puff of mint as he spoke, and I realized I’d drifted closer to the soldier. My arms crossed in front of my chest, and I turned back to the scroll. My brows pinched as I reread the line.
“Okay, so the final bone of power was on Kayj when the gate was opened, but nobody knows where it is now,” Ronan said, leading Vander back to the table.
“And last I heard, the others were going to try to figure out how to close the gate,” Vander replied, his chair scraping across the floor as he pulled it out.
“And right after that happened, the castle was activated as a massive rubelline,” Ronan continued.
I made to turn back when my eye caught on a single word in the small line of script. “Gates,” I said, my chest tightening as the word registered.
“What?” Ronan asked.
My fingers slipped over the soft, dry parchment as I lifted the unmarked scroll and turned to the two men.
“Gates, Ronan. Plural.”