Chapter Thirty Cloris Payne Aphelion Two Years Ago
Cloris entered the city on a tide of bodies, no one marking her entrance. She gripped a long wooden staff in one thin hand as she hobbled along the golden paved street, squinting at the opulence of her surroundings. The bones in her knee had never set right, and that old injury caused by the Heart Queen always flared when storms were brewing. What she wouldn’t give to go back in time and rip out that brat’s throat. What an absolute fool she had been.
But Cloris was the one who’d had the last laugh, wasn’t she?
While Serce and her mate had dissolved into nothing but memories and ash, tainted by their mistakes, Cloris had Zerra’s divine protection to thank for her narrow escape. The arcturite cuffs had dragged her into near madness, but Cloris had never lost her faith in her god, and in turn, she was rewarded with life beyond the worst disaster since the Beginning of Days. Zerra had refused to heal her knee as punishment for her missteps, but it was better than the alternative.
After that, Cloris had been forced to go into hiding for years. There were those who knew she’d been present at the end when Serce had botched that cursed bonding. Some knew Cloris had been working with the queen, and she refused to be held accountable for that wretched woman’s actions. None of that had been her fault. Cloris was still furious that bitch had locked her in a cage like she was nothing but a slobbering animal. If she weren’t already dead, Cloris would have made it her life’s purpose to ensure Serce suffered painfully until she took her final breaths. Now Cloris would settle for her offspring instead.
A little over two decades ago, Cloris finally emerged from the shadows of her seclusion. The dust had settled enough so she could move out into the open once again. Memories were short, and the history books all asserted she was dead. It was a reasonable assumption. No bodies had been left to identify after the chaos.
Some small alterations to her appearance—the color of her eyes and the shape of her chin and nose—and a change of name completed her transformation. It was the perfect cover. She couldn’t return to her sisters at Zerra’s temple yet—another thing she’d never forgive Serce for—but she would forge new plans. When she was finished, they would welcome her into their fold with open arms. She would finally realize Zerra’s purpose when the goddess had given life to the priestesses so many years ago.
The ark of Heart. It had been her goal when she’d tried to steal the girl and once again found herself rescued from death by the divine hand of Zerra’s mercy.
She tried again when she’d approached Rion twelve years ago. Of course, none of that had gone as planned. The rulers of Ouranos were too absorbed in themselves to see the bigger picture. They were too myopic to appreciate the scale of what they could accomplish if only they’d open their eyes and see.
Looking up at the towering Sun Palace, she hitched up the hem of her skirt, rolling her lips together.
First Serce. Then that little brat. Then Rion. She hoped a fourth time would be the charm.
Slowly, she wove her way through the crowd, arriving at the gated entrance. Two guards in golden armor flanked the archway to the Sun Palace, their postures stiff and their gazes watching everything.
As she approached, she sensed their judgment. The curl of their lips and the shifting of their eyes. She knew how she appeared. Feeble. Broken. Not quite whole. Thanks to those cuffs, something had cracked in her mind, and though she’d spent so many years trying to heal, there would always be something not quite… right.
She shuffled towards the guards and stopped before dragging her eyes up. They watched her with bored looks, and she resisted the urge to slap the disdain off their faces.
“I’m here to see the king,” she said, standing as straight as she could and trying to project a confidence she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
One of the guards snorted as he exchanged an amused glance with the other guard.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Move along. You don’t belong here.”
He made a shooing motion with his hands, and her jaw clenched in anger.
Instead, she shuffled closer and lifted a hand to her collar. She’d used this only once in the centuries after the destruction, when she’d gone to see the Aurora King after emerging from the forest on the same misguided errand.
The guard’s thick eyebrows drew together as she pulled on the fabric of her dress, exposing the mark of a High Priestess tattooed into the curve of her collarbone.
Referred to as Zerra’s mark in the common tongue but known as the Empyreal Seal to all of Zerra’s true disciples. The mark would grant an automatic audience with any ruler in Ouranos when presented. Or at least that had been the case once upon a time.
She knew it stood out in stark contrast to her paleness. A midnight mark against a snowy canvas that had seen little sunlight in over two hundred years. The seven Artefacts formed a circle, each rendered in precise miniature detail.
The guard’s eyes narrowed as he took in the marking, leaning closer to get a better look.
“I come on behalf of the goddess,” Cloris said. “Here to demand an audience with the king.” It wasn’t entirely the truth. After the last time Zerra had rescued Cloris, she’d stopped speaking to her as further punishment for her failures. But she was trying to earn her way back into Zerra’s grace, and sometimes one had to massage the truth in support of a nobler cause.
The guard peered at the mark as he rubbed his chin, clearly lacking enough brain cells to assess the situation.
“I think we better let her in,” the other one said, obviously the more superstitious of the two.
“We can’t just let her in.” The first one again. “The king will have our heads. It’s the middle of the Trials.”
The second guard’s gaze shifted to Cloris. “She’s with the goddess.” Then his gaze flicked upward before it landed on Cloris again. “We should let her in.”
The first guard hesitated again. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you want to incur her wrath?”
“What about the king?” the first one said, and Cloris was ready to crack their heads together. But she reined in her temper and smiled pleasantly enough while these two tried to remember that one plus one added up to two.
“I’d be far more worried about angering the goddess than the king. You know, eternal damnation and all that. I heard the Lord of the Underworld burns off your skin, and you just have to walk around like that. All bleeding and muscly, screaming in agony.”
“Hmm,” the first one said, clearly skeptical about the other’s claims. “I suppose.”
He eyed Cloris up and down one more time, but she sensed victory at hand.
“Fine. Come with me,” he said. “But don’t touch anything.”
She nodded and dipped her head as the guard turned and gestured for her to follow. They wound through several resplendent corridors, passing rooms full of merry High Fae cavorting and drinking. She caught sight of a group of young women, all in gold dresses, huddling together at the end of a salon watching an acrobat twist through a golden suspended ring. She recalled what the guard had just said about the Trials and realized she had arrived in Aphelion just in time.
Another sign from Zerra that she was on the right track.
“Wait here,” the guard said to her as they came to a stop outside a set of massive golden doors. The guard went to confer with yet another pair of guards as they cast looks at her and then argued with each other. This was getting so very tiresome. There was a time when a High Priestess of Zerra would have been welcomed with open arms and bestowed with every luxury the kingdom could afford. Not treated like a common criminal here to abscond with the silverware stuffed down her shirt.
“Need I remind you that the mark of Zerra is to be respected and that it begs an immediate audience with any ruler in Ouranos? Surely you haven’t forgotten what the goddess does to those who disobey?”
They might fear the Lord’s wrath, but his would be a damp flickering match compared to what Zerra could invoke when tested.
One of the guards standing outside the king’s chamber finally nodded and disappeared inside. Well, at least this was progress.
They all waited in silence for several long minutes, the tension stretching into gossamer.
Finally, the guard returned.
“You may come.” The guard gestured her towards him. He ushered her into a study lined with pale yellow tiles and golden shelves filled with knickknacks and other curios. A large arched window at the end looked over onto the bright blue sea of Aphelion.
“Have a seat,” the guard said. “His Majesty will be here in a moment.”
She did as he asked, dropping into the shiny leather couch tufted with golden buttons, and waited.
And waited.
She lost track of the hours, but the sun started sinking over the horizon, and her stomach rumbled with hunger. How long was this king going to make her sit here? Perhaps this had all been a mistake. She lifted a hand to her forehead, feeling the twinges of a headache cresting at her temples. They’d plagued her ever since that fateful day in Heart, their intensity so fierce that sometimes her vision went blank. None of the usual remedies worked, and all she could do was lie in her bed for days with the curtains drawn, waiting for them to pass.
This was an insult. This was ridiculous. When she was about to get up and demand to see the king, the door finally swung open, and there he was.
He shot a beaming smile in her direction.
“Thank you for your patience,” said the Sun King. “It’s been a day.”
He strode into the room and walked over to the bar cart in the corner. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No,” she said, her tone clipped. “I’m fine.”
He poured himself a good measure of whisky and then walked over and sunk down in the seat across from her. Crossing one leg over the other, he took a sip. He was all casual grace and easy elegance with that coppery hair and bronzed skin, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he hadn’t made her sit here for half the day waiting for him.
“Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked. “I didn’t catch your name?”
“It’s Mathilde,” she said, using the fake name she’d adopted years ago. It had been the name of a childhood friend who’d succumbed to the Withering when they’d been girls.
“Mathilde,” Atlas said. “What can I do for you? I can’t say that I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting one of Zerra’s emissaries before. Imagine my surprise when I was told you had come to speak with me.”
Cloris sat forward, twisting her hands in her lap. She needed to approach this carefully.
“I have come to you on a matter of some importance.” He waited, studying her with those piercing aqua eyes as he sipped his drink. “There is a girl who lives inside Nostraza. One who may be of some interest to you.”
His eyebrow raised at that. “Why should I care about a girl inside Nostraza?”
“She is no ordinary girl, you see. She is… the granddaughter of Queen Serce.”
Atlas paused with his glass nearly at his lips, narrowing his gaze. “You interrupt my day to bring me lies? Is this behavior becoming of Zerra’s disciples?”
She had expected this. It had been the same with Rion. Though just like with the Aurora King, she could tell she had piqued his interest.
“It’s not a lie,” she said. “I would never come to you without being absolutely sure it is the truth.”
“How do you come by this information?”
A fair question, and one she’d have to answer truthfully, at least in part.
“I knew Cloris Payne,” she said. “She was my sister. I knew she’d gotten involved with the future Heart Queen, and I cautioned her against it. But she was resolute. I was worried she was getting in over her head, so I traveled to Heart to check in on her. But I was too late. I was nearby when it all happened, and I saw them leave the castle before the breaking.”
“Who did you see leaving?” Atlas asked, sitting forward and uncrossing his legs, his attention entirely focused on her now.
“The child.”
Atlas blinked, several things shifting in his expression.
“The child perished with Serce and Wolf.”
“She did not,” Cloris replied. “Serce delivered her just before the end. King Wolf’s soldiers secreted the baby from the castle and back to The Woodlands. It was their child. I followed them to the Fort, where the baby was passed to Prince Cedar for protection and his guardianship. She was sent into the forest to live out her days undercover, never to reveal who she was.”
Atlas furrowed his brows, clasping the glass in his hand.
“This doesn’t seem possible. How do I know you’re not lying about all of this?”
“I am not lying. What reason would I have to make this up?”
Atlas smirked. “What reason indeed? Why are you coming to me with this information?”
This was where she knew he’d balk. “Because I need you to get Serce’s granddaughter out of Nostraza.”
Atlas snorted a laugh. “And how do you propose I do that? Walk up to Rion and ask for him to release the supposed heir of Heart into my care? Do you have any idea what would happen if this girl were to be discovered?”
Cloris nodded. “Of course I know. That’s why I’m here.” She said it softly and witnessed the deviation in the king’s expression. It was at that moment that she knew he believed her.
“But no, you cannot go to the Aurora King and ask for her. He will not let her go.”
“Does he know who she is?”
Another fair question. “Yes.”
“Then why is she locked up? Why hasn’t he brought her out? Made use of her in some way? Or better yet, killed her?”
“Because he broke her,” Cloris said.
Oh yes, Rion had made a grave misjudgment in his treatment of the girl. She’d locked away her magic, and he’d tried and tried to pry it out. Cloris had stood by, watching her scream and writhe and cry. Watched her fight against him until he had no choice but to give up.
But rather than admit it, Rion had declared she was useless, and there was no point in bothering with her. If there was magic, then it was gone. But Cloris was sure the girl had merely been bent but not broken.
What she did know was the girl would forever be useless to her if she remained inside Nostraza. She’d tried again and again to make Rion try something else with her, but he refused, saying it was no use. He was afraid. He must have known what it meant that she’d withstood him.
Cloris had pleaded with him not to kill her, and he reluctantly agreed once she reminded him that if the girl died, the magic of Heart would transfer to someone else, and they might have no idea who. At least with her safely inside Nostraza, he could keep an eye on her and keep her contained.
It had been years, but Cloris knew the girl still lived. And now what she needed was to get her hands on her and undo the damage Rion had caused. It might be the only way to find the lost ark of Heart.
“What do you mean he broke her?” Atlas asked.
“I mean he tortured her until her magic… died.”
“There is no magic left in Heart,” he declared, but there was an edge to the words, as though he already realized they couldn’t be true. She’d never heard much about the Sun King’s intelligence, but he was astute enough to keep up with her at least.
“There is,” she whispered. “There is magic left if you know where to look.”
He blinked again, a wall dropping behind his eyes. She understood this was a lot to take in. Rion had reacted similarly.
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me,” Atlas said, though she could tell he was eager to know just what it might have to do with him.
“You are not yet bonded,” Cloris said, and Atlas nodded slowly. “Do you really want to tether yourself to one of these simpering girls?”
“A bonding with the Heart Queen?”
Clarity flickered across his gaze like he’d wiped a fogged-over mirror with his sleeve and could finally see a glorious future shining in the distance.
“I know your truth,” Cloris said. “What did you do with your brother?”
She tipped her head and blinked at him, allowing him to fill in the uncomfortable pieces himself. Thanks to her connection with Zerra, Cloris had always known Atlas wasn’t the Primary. Until now, she hadn’t concerned herself with how exactly he’d claimed the title of king, but now she would use that knowledge to her advantage.
“My brother died of the Withering,” Atlas said. “Everyone knows that.”
The Withering was a rare affliction that affected only High Fae. It happened when their magic began to turn on them, essentially eating them from the inside. No one knew what caused it or why only certain Fae were afflicted, and there was no known cure. Sometimes Fae could live for decades with the Withering as it slowly chewed away at their bodies, while other times it came on suddenly, and a once-healthy High Fae would find themself dead within a few weeks.
The story was that the former Sun King, Tyr, had been one of those who’d succumbed quickly.
Cloris pressed her lips into a thin line, resisting the urge to fill the prickly silence between them. Let him be the one to hang himself.
“I’m in the middle of the Trials as we speak,” Atlas said, as though he wasn’t quite ready to accept what she was offering, poking her story with holes. “It’s too late.”
“Is it? Has the fourth test been completed?”
Again, she said nothing as she let him work through this process on his own. No, it was not too late.
“Let’s say I believe you. How would I bond to the Heart Queen? How would that work?” He sharpened his gaze and added, “What do you ask for in return for all of this?”
This was where Cloris had to play her cards carefully. She’d let too much slip to Rion in a moment of weakness. Her thoughts became so muddled sometimes, and he spoke so harshly to her that her tongue had loosened against her will. She’d revealed things she had never meant to. It wasn’t a mistake she’d make again.
“She is the key to finding something I’ve lost,” Cloris said. “Or rather, the sisterhood lost many years ago. Once I have her then I can use her to find this item, which will then allow her to bond to you.”
There. She hoped that sounded reasonable enough.
“What kind of object?” he asked.
“One of great power. One that can bend the will of the Artefacts. Once I have it, I will help you get everything you desire, and then I will return the object to where it belongs, with my goddess.”
It was partly the truth. She knew the arks could channel the magic of the Artefacts, though she wasn’t privy to the true extent of their power. She was almost certain she couldn’t actually force a bonding with the heir of Heart, but she just needed Atlas to believe she could long enough to get her hands on the girl. Once she had the ark, she’d do away with her and hopefully end Serce’s miserable line forever.
“And what if I refuse?” Atlas asked.
She hadn’t quite worked that part out yet. Go to another ruler? Could she risk yet another one of them knowing? Alluvion would be the only remaining kingdom that made sense, but Cyan already had his hands full.
Atlas was far more malleable towards this proposal. A pretty young face and a promise of power—that would sway him. Cloris hoped the girl was pretty enough, though she worried what the years in Nostraza might have done to her.
“How long have you been waiting, Your Majesty? To bond with someone who holds real power? When Queen Serce… declined you, was that not… troubling?”
His gaze flashed at those pointed words, the subject clearly still a sore spot all these years later.
“How do you know about that?” he snarled.
“Does it matter?” she asked, watching him with an unwavering expression.
But there it was. The moment she knew she had him.
This would be his chance to redo history. To take back what he’d lost.
“Do we have an agreement?” she asked.
He nodded, his eyes far away, as though he was turning over a thousand thoughts in his head.
“I’ll have to make some arrangements.” He’d long abandoned his drink and was sitting with his elbows on his knees, a thumb running across his bottom lip. “It might take time to get her out without alerting Rion.”
“Of course,” Cloris said. “It will need a deft hand to maneuver it, but I’m sure someone with your skills and resources can accomplish the task.”
“You’ll stay in the city then,” Atlas said. “As my guest, of course.”
“It would be an honor,” she said, concealing her triumphant smile with a deferential bow of her head. “I look forward to working with you.”
Atlas stood up then, rubbing his palms on his thighs. “I must get back.”
“Thank you for hearing me out.”
“I’ll make arrangements for you to stay in the city. It will be comfortable.”
“Thank you again,” Cloris said, once more dipping her head. When she lifted it, the Sun King was already gone.