Chapter 2
VENGEANCE
Gavrel
My mouth dropped open, shock prickling along my skin.
The woman before me was surely an illusion, saying my name, interrupting my execution of Melina.
“How are you here, Gavrel?” She stepped closer, a look of concern sweeping over a face I hadn’t seen in many turns.
Time seemed to have frozen, save for the floating specks of glowing cinders, the sporadic ebony flames that erupted from the dark terrain, and the frantic drumming against my neck.
This place was surely playing with my senses.
It couldn’t be.
Close behind her, at least ten outcasts shuffled, their gaunt faces marked by a sickly pallor streaked with chalky black smudges, like they’d tumbled through piles of ash.
Most were human, but others … I blinked.
Was that a bloody centaur? He was broad-shouldered, his tawny brown skin and hide slick with soot, and his pale, long hair shining. One of his hooves clopped against the ground irritably as he leveled me with a flat, unimpressed stare.
Not an illusion, then.
The rest of the group’s clothes were a mismatched mosaic of battered dark leathers that whispered tales of countless skirmishes and hard survival.
I counted a dozen blades at minimum, each one carefully concealed, tucked in sheaths beneath frayed belts, strapped to worn boots, or nestled in vests cinched tight around ragtag forms.
Focusing on the woman once more, my shoulders tensed, and my fingers flexed against the hilt of my broadsword. “Maya? Is it truly you?”
“You have eyes, Comman—”
Without looking, I flung my arm down, the tip of my steel blade hovering precariously close to Melina’s throat, effectively cutting off her words.
Maya’s mouth twisted as she studied the Elder trapped below me before a slow smile crept over her face. “It’s me, Gavrel. A mare wyrm wouldn’t be as pleased to see the state she’s in.” With a wry chuckle, she jerked her chin toward Melina.
I shook my head, dislodging any further disbelief.
Seryn’s mother looked unchanged, as if time itself had frozen, sparing her from its usual cruelty. Yet, survival had left its own mark. Dark shadows etched deep beneath her lash line, and her voice carried a rough, weathered edge.
She had always been beautiful, with fiery curls like Seryn’s and eyes that missed nothing, sharp and clear. But the delicate planes of her cheekbones and jawline had hardened, forged into something almost blade-like, tempered against the blackened stones of this unforgiving realm.
It was her. I knew it in my marrow.
Bloody Ancients.
She reached for me as I sheathed my weapon, and I went to her, our arms wrapping around one another. Maya leaned back, hazel eyes shining as she cupped my cheeks.
When I was young, she’d been a second mother to me as mine had been to Seryn.
My heartbeat stumbled at the thought of my khorda. What I wouldn’t give for her to know her mother was alive.
For a moment, I closed my eyes, imagining that I could send the message along the cord binding our ribs, but I only sensed a faint twinge along the bony cage like the fading vibrations of a plucked fiddle string.
The image of Seryn screaming my name as I fell into the portal—as I left her—was burned into the back of my eyelids.
“Gavrel,” Maya murmured, stepping away but resting one hand on my biceps. She nodded to someone in her crew, and he unclipped a set of thick manacles from his belt and moved toward Melina. “How did you come to be here? And what of my daughters?”
Her gaze was unwavering. Direct. Hopeful yet wary.
Before I could respond, ember burst from her, whipping around and behind me. I spun. Maya’s glittering midnight ropes clamped around Melina’s smoke-like energy.
“I wouldn’t if I were you, pet,” Maya warned, her power digging into Melina’s as if it were a limb.
Melina bared her teeth, her aura writhing. “Do tell how you escaped the Epiales Tombs. I’m sure it’s a tale for the ages,” she taunted.
Maya didn’t acknowledge the Elder. Instead, she simply nodded at a male and female as they emerged like shadows from the dim path behind the group.
My jaw nearly fell off its hinges, but I forced my mouth closed before I showed any sign of disrespect.
Vryka.
If I were right, these beings were the stuff of, well, nightmares. Creatures who haunted many mortals’ slumbers. They had people looking over their shoulders in the night, fearing that their flesh and blood would be consumed before their screams could pierce the air.
The pair stationed themselves before the man holding the fetters. He didn’t seem frightened.
Curiosity had my brows rising higher.
The sharp-eyed female, with cropped blonde hair catching the dim light, stood with a disinterested poise. Beside her loomed a stocky male, whose glower spoke of constant irritation.
Their eyes were black, liquid mirrors—depths into which one might fall and never return.
A pair of soot-dark wings cascaded elegantly down each of their backs, ending in a talon that brushed against their calves.
Veins of dusky sapphire traced intricate patterns across the wings’ velvety leather, pulsing faintly.
Just a hint of white showed around Melina’s irises.
She was nervous.
Excellent.
They moved closer to her, and a flash of cerulean-tipped black fire flared beside them, making the bluish gray of their skin appear lit from within for a moment, glinting over the brutal weapons secured to their bodies.
A lattice of leather straps crisscrossed the female’s chest, leaving her wings unbound.
The five-foot polearm rode at a slant along her spine, the slightly curved blade peeking past her shoulder, its haft locked into twin loops of iron-fitted leather.
With one tug, the weapon would slide free.
And she looked like she itched to free it.
The male’s harness was nothing but blackened straps and iron clamps, built to bear the weight of the monstrous, spiked maul along his back. Its hammer-like head bristled with jagged studs.
“Go on, Therrok,” Maya urged.
With crossed arms, the male hovered like a slab of stone over Elder Harrow. His dark eyes flicked between Maya, me, and the female at his boots, serving each of us with the same level of suspicion.
But finally, he grumbled and unlocked his arms, muscles thick and littered with scars, the ash settling deep into the old, cobalt-colored wounds, as if it knew he belonged to the ruin.
His scowl didn’t waver. So much so that I wondered if it too was a permanent scar. His flaxen hair was shorn close at the sides, tight braids running along the crown and bundled at his nape.
The female vryka narrowed her eyes at him, and Therrok wrinkled his nose, snatching the cuffs from the other man, before bending over Melina and shackling her wrists. Rune etchings flared along the metal before disappearing. They were identical to the ember-blocking restraints in Morpheus’ dungeon.
Melina pouted as her aura blinked out, and Maya allowed hers to evaporate.
“Clever, clever girl,” Melina purred, jerking her wrists and making the metal chains clang.
“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you,” the short-haired blonde barked, grabbing the Elder’s biceps and yanking her upright. Her wings rustled agitatedly with the movement.
A slow grin spread across Melina’s lips, her lipstick smudged and fading. She leaned close. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Clearly, she wasn’t as wary as she had been moments ago. Or her mind was slipping further.
Without warning, the vryka’s arm lashed out, her sharp black nails slicing the air before the back of her hand crashed against Melina’s cheek.
I squared my feet and gripped my baldric.
A thin track of blood trickled from the corner of Melina’s mouth, mingling with the faded lipstick. She licked it slowly, silver eyes sparking. “Fun indeed.”
The female’s hand rose again.
“Enough, Thesa!” Maya snapped, her voice firm and commanding. Thesa froze mid-motion, jaw tight, tension coiling in her muscles before she dropped her arm, wrenched on Melina’s chains, and marched off with her in the other direction. Therrok and the rest of her group followed.
My thumb rubbed the leather strap across my chest. “Quite the crew you have down here, Maya. How did it come about that you found me?”
She shrugged. “It’s been a long while since I escaped Phobetor’s nightmare prison, and I was fortunate to find the others during my time here.
” Her gaze lingered on her crew ahead. “Thesa was scouting, and she saw the portal spit you out. We hoped it might be another of Melina’s prisoners escaping.
It’s rare, but …” She shrugged, rubbing her lips together.
“Thesa and Therrok, are they siblings?”
She nodded. “They had childhoods I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but at least they had one another.”
Her eyes softened, likely thinking of her own daughters.
“I’ve only heard the myths of vrykas as a child. Are they … Is there anything I should be careful of?” I asked, not wanting to offend.
Her head swayed from side to side. “No, they aren’t like their kin. They left the capital—Nekrionn—long ago. Escaped the torment of their upbringing. But that’s not my story to tell.” Her eyes crinkled at the sides. “They won’t drain you of your blood if that’s your concern.”
The thought had crossed my mind, but I’d take her word for it.
She went on, “I can’t speak for the rest of the Void beings in this realm. I doubt I need to say ‘watch yourself’”—she twirled her hand in the air—“here.”
I huffed a laugh and rolled one shoulder.
She swallowed. “This group. It might be worn at the edges, but we’ve been together a long while.
Survived. Fought the nightmares clinging to our backs.
” She paused for a moment, gaze sweeping over the landscape.
“Each of us, in our own way, was a prisoner. Of the Epiales Tombs. The Elders. Our circumstances. Death. But we found a way to fight back. Not to fade into the despair of this place. We found something to live for.”
I followed her line of sight, trying to decipher what had kept her going. She’d been here for so long, I didn’t think it possible. “And what did you find?”
Her eyes met mine, steady and unflinching. “Vengeance.”