Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Thea
The long spires of Hyrax Manor stretched high, piercing through the grey clouds that painted a dreary sky. A heavy mist hung in the air around us, as if the day couldn’t decide if it wanted to rain or not.
Seeing the Manor sent a pang of sadness coursing through me.
How had it only been weeks since I’d last been here, when it felt like an eternity had passed?
This place that had once been a haven—the place I’d fled to when I couldn’t bear to be at the castle any longer.
It had been the one place that had truly felt like home.
Inside those walls was where Clay had told me he’d loved me.
The bedroom I’d claimed as my own had been where we’d chosen each other regardless of the consequences.
This place, which had once imprinted itself upon my soul, now felt more like the ghost of a memory than anything else.
It looked the same as it always had. The marble staircase met gray bricks under the watchful eyes of the gargoyles decorating the front lawn. Hyrax scanned it appreciatively, a small hum in the back of his throat.
“Well, it’s quite lovely,” he mused.
I kept my eyes on the house. “Do you know who built it?”
The Manor had been passed down throughout the line of Hyrax for years, built by some of his earliest Descendants, the children who had been born from affairs with Mortal women.
He tilted his head, considering, eyes glancing briefly towards the sky. “After all these years, I can’t remember.”
Shaking away the thought, he jerked his chin towards Caldrius, silently instructing my husband to lead the search of the estate. Caldrius nodded before dismounting and beginning to issue orders.
The grounds, thankfully, seemed empty, long abandoned by the rebels who had once fled here. I kept my face neutral as the surrounding guards began their search, trying not to betray the fact that I knew the exact room where the Bident was.
Somehow, I needed to sneak away from Hyrax, find that weapon, and hide it somewhere no one would find it.
I pulled Netta aside, running a hand down her mane affectionately as I dismounted and tied her to a fence post, scanning over the various entrances to the house. Perhaps I could slip in the back door, through the kitchen, and up the servant’s stairs.
“Did I ever tell you how I formed the Bident?”
Hyrax’s words stopped me in my tracks.
I turned toward him, surprised to find that his attention remained on the Manor even as he clearly spoke to me.
“I know the story.”
His blue eyes shifted towards me, and he folded his arms over his chest, lips quirking into a slight grin. “The myth you mean? I’ll assume that to be a no. I haven’t told you the real story.”
It wasn't the first time that Hyrax had tried to convince me that the histories painted him in a false light. Once, I’d even given him the benefit of the doubt.
I knew better now.
“Arto gave Zion his sword, and you the invisibility bangle. I know that part of the story is true because I stole the invisibility bangle.” I lifted my brows stubbornly, daring him to tell me I was wrong.
Hyrax quirked his head, his eyes narrowing even as his expression showed amusement. “Did you now?”
When it had become clear that Camilla had information I needed about Pasnia, I’d had to free her from the prison at the castle. I’d stolen Hyrax’s bangle to sneak her out without anyone noticing.
My heart skipped at the slightest bit of surprise. “I assumed Caldrius would have told you.”
“He hadn’t.” Hyrax chuckled softly, scratching his beard and glancing towards the manor. “Though I suppose a husband and wife should be permitted some secrets.”
He had a strange need for Caldrius and I to be a perfectly happy couple—so much so that he was willfully ignorant of the tension that existed between us on a near-constant basis.
My deep exhale was the only outward show of my irritation. “So, you made the Bident from the bones of Eckna. Like I said, I know the story.”
Hyrax gestured towards a bench overlooking the footpath that led to the garden, sitting while the soldiers searched. My stomach clenched at the thought of wasting more time to sit and talk with him.
Every second I spent here was a second they got closer to finding that weapon.
Hyrax waited expectantly, nodding to the place next to him.
I couldn’t help myself; I glanced back at the Manor. There wasn’t a choice—not really. Denying him would have consequences, and what would I even gain? The soldiers were already here, tearing the Manor apart. There was nowhere I could hide the Bident that it wouldn’t be promptly found.
Hyrax smiled as I sat, stretching his arm out on the bench behind me. “That is only part of the story, my dear. Your Mortal myths do not know about the Forging.”
“Forging?”
He nodded, staring into the dreary sky. “It’s a ritual, one which Gods go through to mark their maturity.
My Forging was particularly brutal. I remember it vividly even after all these years.
I’d had to face my greatest fears and accept them before rising into my full power.
The Godly Weapon that emerges from the flames of the forge is different for each of us—a perfect representation of our individual magic.
That’s why a God is most powerful when united with their weapon. The weapon is—”
“An extension of their power.” I finished his sentence almost absentmindedly, my thoughts already spinning with possibilities.
That’s why no one but Hyrax himself could control the Bident. It was his own magic given form. I’d been able to feel the Bident’s power when his Mark still lingered on my skin because I hadn’t yet claimed my power as my own so the weapon must have recognized it as his.
And while that was a very exciting realization, it wasn’t the reason my heart was threatening to burst out of my chest and my jaw ached from clamping down on the smile that wanted to emerge.
If what Hyrax was saying was true and this Forging was a process that could not only create a powerful weapon and mark the maturity of a God's powers, then maybe it would bring my powers back and give me exactly the kind of leg up I would need to end this war!
“How do you start the Forging?” Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice.
If he heard the anticipation in my tone or noticed the way I straightened my spine, he didn’t say anything.
“Oh, it’s a spell. It requires you to be close to the seat of your power, so while everyone else did their Forging in the Upperworld, mine was done in the Underworld. I don’t remember many of the details.”
I only partially recognized the bitterness in his voice, my mind was too distracted trying to plan out my own Forging.
Where exactly was the seat of my power?
I’d never even been to the Upperworld.
The Underworld, maybe?
No, that made little sense considering I was the Goddess of the Veil.
The Veil wasn’t a place, though. At least, I didn’t think it was.
“How can I do the Forging?”
Hyrax laughed, the sound so utterly dismissive that I felt myself physically deflate. “My dear, we rule the entire Mortal Realm. What could you need a Godly Weapon for? No. The Forging is not something to be taken lightly; there’s no need for you to go through that now.”
His face was calm, unwrinkled with the ghost of a smile, like he was simply enjoying his day, but his words carried weight. I shivered, crossing my arms around myself.
Of course he wouldn’t tell me. Hyrax wanted an heir, not a challenger.
If it was initiated through a spell though… well, I could only think of one spell book that would have that kind of information.
Gods, I prayed that Nessira and Dimitri found that damn book.
“My liege!” Caldrius jogged towards us, his expression so grim that my heart swelled with hope.
He didn’t find it!
He came to stand before us, bowing his head towards Hyrax even as he glanced sideways at me. “We’ve searched the property, but there doesn’t appear to be any sign of the Bident.”
My heart was a drumbeat, my blood singing.
In all my fear over Hyrax finding that weapon, I’d never stopped to remember the exact moment when I had first found it. I hadn’t been alone.
Clay had been there with me. My king had seen it and knew better than to leave such a powerful weapon here for the taking. I hid my sigh of relief through another fake shiver, holding my arms even tighter around myself.
Hyrax jerked, as if he was sure he had misheard Caldrius. As the realization fell over him though, so too did shadows begin to slowly start crawling on the hard ground. I jerked to my feet, taking rushed steps away from the darkness as it flooded over the bench.
“Where is it then?” Hyrax snapped, his voice icy and hard.
Caldrius kept his focus on Hyrax even as his hand snaked out and grasped onto mine. He pulled me so that he stood between the shadows and I, his thumb tracing reassuringly over my knuckles.
“There’s evidence that the rebels were here; it’s possible they’ve taken it with them.”
I didn’t move, didn’t dare to breathe too deeply. And when Hyrax turned his steely gaze onto me, any lingering humor long since dead, I stopped breathing.
“Where would they have taken it?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. A lie.
Hyrax scoffed, baring his teeth at me as an overwhelming tightness fell over my muscles. My throat closed with it. I had seen signs of Hyrax’s anger before. I’d watched him kill the Dragon. I’d sat next to him as he tortured Damon.
But he’d never looked at me like that.
Buzzing energy filled my stomach. Fear. I was afraid.
He stared at me, taking a quick step forward as shadows curled around his legs and wrists. Caldrius was silent as Hyrax marched towards us, but he released my hand, placing it instead across me to guide me slightly behind his form.
He placed himself between us.
“He was your lover, Theadora!” Hyrax roared, the sound echoing through the valley. “I’ve had enough of your feigned ignorance. Tell me where he is. Tell me this instant.”
The sky split open then, deciding it wanted to storm after all. Sheets of icy rain pelted down on us, and in a matter of minutes dripped from my hair and eyelashes.
Part of me felt grateful for it. Because as those shadows pulled closer to me, I began to cry.
And I hated the idea of letting Hyrax see me cry.
His eyes were wide, shining impossibly blue.
Shadows shifted along his shoulders and forearms. They moved through his legs sliding to circle Caldrius and me, inching closer and closer and without thinking I grasped Caldrius’ arm.
I clung to it with trembling as I stared at those serpentine-like tendrils of darkness.
“Stop it,” I meant it as an order, but it came out as nothing more than a hushed whisper.
“Theadora! You will tell me.”
Too close. They were getting too close.
“Please, stop.” They were going to attack me again. They were going to slice into me. “Please.”
Hyrax threw his hand in my direction and a whip of darkness snapped out, wrapping around my wrist and pulling me stumbling out of Caldrius’ grasp. The shadow ripped me towards Hyrax, and he opened his jaw to spew some other vile demand, but the words fell on deaf ears.
The second that darkness finally touched me, a chasm opened inside my soul.
A chasm of pain and terror that I hadn’t yet allowed to open.
I screamed.
And it wasn’t just one scream.
No, it was so many different screams layered atop one another.
One for Camilla’s shadow attacks.
One for the riding crop against my back at the Dragon’s hands.
One for the slap the Alchemist had delivered across my cheek.
One for the agony of Pasnia tearing my magic out of me.
And one for the darkness Hyrax now threw at me.
The sound echoed as I struggled back, away from that shadow and away from Hyrax. The long fabric of my skirt caught under my boot, and the world tilted. Hard ground rose to meet me as I crashed down, a loud snap sounding as I caught my weight on my wrist, and I was screaming again.
Screaming over and over and over.
So shrill and filled with utter agony that I could barely recognize it as my own voice.
“Hyrax!” Caldrius shouted, bending and gathering me into his arms without hesitation.
I didn’t dare glance away from the shadows that now retreated in a rush. Even as Hyrax crouched in front of me too, his face covered in pure horror, I stared at the shadows that dissipated around us.
Caldrius held me, murmuring soft words and reminding me to breathe as tremors shook through me, each wave sending fresh pain down the arm of my broken wrist.
“Let me see,” Caldrius urged, gently trying to pull my arm away from where I cradled it against my chest. “Fuck, I think it’s broken.”
“I— I’m sorry,” Hyrax’s voice cracked, regret and concern obvious on his features. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize you were so affected. I would never want to hurt you.”
“Perhaps you should check on the men.” I’d never heard Caldrius speak so sharply to him before. His muttered ‘my liege’ was nothing more than an afterthought.
Hyrax stared at me for a moment, before muttering another apology and standing.
“I am deeply sorry, Theadora.” He pushed a hand through his damp hair, bottom lip quivering. “This will not happen again. I— I love you.”
He was gone before the weight of his words registered.
He’d never said that before.
Caldrius and I both stared after him, until all at once he reached up and pulled the crown from my hair, tossing the heavy weight onto the ground so that he could twine his fingers in my hair.
“You’re okay,” he told me. Not a question, a command.
Rain fell, soaking everything around us, until we were sitting in a puddle of icy mud. The horses whined in protest, stomping their feet.
The sound rang in my ears.
“Thea, you need to go inside. Go inside and dry off.”
I nodded, my throat still too tight to speak.
He helped me stand, waiting until I was steady on my feet before he gave me a gentle push towards the staircase that led to the large door to the Manor entryway.
“I warned you not to test him,” he called to me as I retreated.
With my uninjured hand, I pushed the door to the Manor open and slammed it behind me, sliding down as sobs poured out of me endlessly. They heaved through the deepest parts of my soul and I didn't care who could hear.