Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Lord Haro of Marisarma attacked our ships at the dawn of summer. The rest have not been heard from.
As my rage simmered in the coming days, I funneled it down, deep down, into the chasm where my powers slept, fueling them as we prepared to march toward Aedrialis.
The round stone containing Faron’s Bellator Bone sat infuriatingly quiet on my cot in the corner of the small cell I shared with Evony. Nerissa had personally taken to her training and had her in the courtyard sparring with Vulcan daily.
Vienah sat across from me, her dark leggings peeking from beneath her travel dress. Carina adjusted her spectacles as she leaned forward on the chair next to us and moved the round stone to peer at its top.
The membranous wings etched across the top arched around the edges. In its center, a small, hand-sized indentation spiraled. The bone flitted quietly, the power inside waiting and watching as the three of us failed once again to unlock it.
“The riddle on the entrance to the tomb could mean a lot of things. What else did Xenelpha say to you?” Carina finally asked.
I pressed my palms into my eyes, closing them against the growing ache that had begun.
“She said a lot of things,” I muttered. “But when she talked about opening the stone, she stressed ‘who was I?’”
“Did she ask you any other questions?” Vienah asked, tucking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. Her head tilted curiously as she stared at the stone container.
“About a hundred,” I said, about ready to hurl the damn stone out the tiny window. Soft light filtered in the small cell in Demon’s Door. “I’m sorry,” I added quickly, throwing an apologetic look her way. “I’m just really stuck.”
“Think,” Carina added cautiously, adjusting her spectacles.
“She asked where would I go? Would I bring destruction or hope?”
A knock rapped at the door, and Drystan’s copper face peered in.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he signed, shuffling inside. He stretched his arms and cracked his neck as he pulled over another chair.
“It’s okay. We’re getting nowhere,” I muttered, signing the words.
“What does it feel like?” he asked, his crystal, almond eyes thoughtful.
Carina cocked her head at my friend.
“She could feel the others,” he explained, turning toward me. “You told us it sounds like wings. But what does it feel like?”
My brows pinched as I turned back to the stone and waited for that soft little pull. A small breeze seemed to flit from the wings of whatever power rested inside its stone chamber. I let it drift to me, and I pushed a little Transcindiel power into the feeling as it floated through the room.
“The wind,” I finally replied.
My eyes landed on Drystan as they blinked open. The wind fluttered through his long ebony hair, and my heart stopped.
Drystan’s almond-shaped eyes, his copper skin, somewhat darker than what was seen in Aedrialis, but warmer than the brown skin in other parts of Sultira. I replayed the old elven words etched on the lid of Faron’s tomb.
Life is nothing without it.
As small as a thought; as strong as the tides.
As quiet as whispers; as loud as thunder.
It exists in the light and the dark…
“Destruction or hope,” I breathed, my heart picking up its beat. “Xenelpha said, ‘Will you bring demin or m’ando?’”
My eyes snapped to the hand-sized, indented section of the round stone. Could it be possible?
“I’ll bring it m’ando… hope,” I signed the word, my eyes boring into Drystan.
His raven brows pinched as his eyes narrowed on me.
“Drystan Amando. Drystan, it’s you. This is your power.”
His head began to shake as Vienah and Carina eyed me with uncertainty.
“This is it,” I said, my words and hand signals firm with conviction. “Drystan, you have always been my hope. Our years in study… As friends… Last year, when we found Enya’s chamber... When you came for me in Kayj… You bring hope to everyone. And your surname, Amando...”
A smile formed on my lips as I continued. “M’ando is hope in Rhashtai. You are Rhashtai. This power is yours.”
Drystan’s throat bobbed as he continued to shake his head. Drystan had been orphaned in Krestwood. He’d never known his family.
“Prove me wrong,” I said, the grin widening on my lips. “I’ve been talking to this damn stone, and it has been laughing at me. You need to sign it. Here.”
I motioned to the smooth indentation as I shoved the stone in Drystan’s shaking hands. His eyes slid down, examining the space.
“I am not a Bellator. I’m—” he finally replied, dragging his gaze back to mine. Doubt and fear hovered over him.
I reached forward and clasped his hand in mine. “You are hope, Drys.”
His hand hovered over the space for a moment before he signed the word for hope into the indentation. How the Bellators of old knew the next person to claim this power would use hands to communicate was beyond me, but I didn’t care.
Vienah gasped as wind stole through the room, followed by a smooth hush like the brush of sand as the round stone dissolved in Drystan’s hands. The ivory Advetis Bone purred in excitement upon finding its master.
The shrill caw of crows perched along the makeshift fence cut through the autumn wind that floated over the browning grass we stood in.
Drystan’s fingers wrapped tightly around the Advetis Bone, his knuckles whitening as his brows pinched in concentration, yet something vulnerable flickered in his eyes.
Drystan’s eyes pinched closed, and he blew a tight breath through his lips. His muscled shoulders tensed for several seconds before he threw his head back and chucked the bone into the grass, letting out a frustrated growl. We’d been at it for hours.
“It’s okay,” I signed once he brought his gaze back to my own. “I get how you’re feeling. The Obscura did nothing for me for days.”
We still had no idea what power rested in the Advetis Bone, which significantly impacted our training sessions. What were we even trying to do? He ran his copper fingers through his long black hair and frowned at me before pulling his hands roughly away.
“It only worked for you when your life was at stake,” he interjected.
I plucked the ivory bone out of the grass and handed it back to him, a thought popping into my mind.
Before I could question it, I slammed my fist into his cheek.
Drystan let out a shocked yelp, his hands flying to his face where a flood of blood rushed from his nose. Immediate regret choked out the feeling of utter stupidity, and my hands slapped over my mouth.
“I’m so sorry!” I signed and cried aloud. “I thought maybe it was a reflex thing! Like you needed to be in danger and the bone would activate!”
Crimson lines dripped down Drystan’s chin as he leveled an incredulous look at me. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before letting out a soft chuckle.
“I think I’m done for today,” he finally signed.
I pulled out a dirty handkerchief from my coat and reached for him, but he waved me away, giving me a cautious, friendly smile instead, before returning to the prison.
Though no more of Drystan’s training sessions with the Advetis Bone ended with bloody noses, the results remained the same, and after a while, his soft reluctance grew into deep doubt.
The eve before our trek to Skyscape Pass, I found myself on the back of the testy mare. I’d been able to slide a rope halter on her head and tied her lead into makeshift reins.
Tiberius had some influence over the agrippa. They all seemed to defer to him, to recognize him as herd leader. But this one. She was fierce. Unbridled. A storm of her own… A tempest.
Though she was thinner than Tiberius before his transformation, she was tall.
My legs dangled over her sides as she stood ramrod straight in the field, head high, and ears back.
I relaxed every muscle in my lower body, feeding her as much calm energy as I could muster, despite the growing tempest within my own being.
I slid my hand through her mane as I gripped her leather lead and let my legs drift to the edge of her sides. Her ears flattened, but she didn’t buck. I rubbed the side of her neck, doing my best to soothe her, as thunder cracked from above. Tempest twitched, and then she exploded.
Her neck arched as she threw her back legs up with a force to be reckoned with.
My legs squeezed around her sides to keep my seat.
She threw two more, and I tugged one side of her lead to the right, pulling her head along with it before yanking it back tightly.
She yielded for a heartbeat before she realized what I’d done.
She ripped the lead back, straightening out and took off down the field.
For fuck’s sake.
My thighs burned as she flew down the brown field. Drops of rain slickened the ground while she threw in bucks along the way. I clung to her as she turned sideways, crow-hopping like a psychotic idiot.
Get off her, Tiberius commanded.
Stay out of it, I snapped.
She’s a lost cause, he said.
You are distracting me!
Thunder clapped again, and I used the distraction to grab hold of her head with the lead. I kept talking to her, soothing her through ragged breath, finally gaining enough control to turn her back to the direction of the prison. Ti’s wave of concern reached me before his shadow passed overhead.
We neared the stables, and she didn’t slow. I dug my right boot into her side, sliding it back as I pulled with the right rein.
Fuck, we had to slow down.
Tempest eyed the building as we neared, seeming to realize it too late, and slammed on her hooves, sending her rear end slipping beneath her as she tumbled to the ground.
My head slammed into the mud, right leg barking in pain as she landed on top of me for a heartbeat before leaping to her feet and trotting off.
I blinked against the stars forming in my vision and groaned as I rolled to my side. Thunder cracked again, followed by an intense downpour. Tempest crept toward me, her velvety snout blowing a puff of air against my head. Footsteps approached, and she backed away.
A hand reached down, hauling me to my feet. My vision tunneled, and I swayed, another hand gripping my other arm, steadying me. I scowled as I turned to find Astraeus’s smirk too close for my liking.
“That was fun to watch,” he murmured, his dark eyes changing from two to four and back to two again.
Bile rose to my throat as I tried to pull out of his arms, but he held firm. I opened my mouth to say something rude when nausea seized me, and I emptied the contents of my stomach across the front of his sea blue coat.
“Oh gods, Lyvia!” Vienah called from nearby.
Mumbled talking sounded before I yielded to the beckoning darkness.