31. Kiera
Chapter 31
Kiera
D ays pass after the mock battles in front of the God Queen and Makeda. I inform the Darkhavens about what I’d found in the records of the Academy library and then, for the first time, I show them my book.
“This isn’t leather,” Ruen states as he palms the exterior of the beautifully crafted tome. I swallow roughly, but I don’t tell him what it’s made of. Every time I touch the thing, I try not to think about it.
Theos peers over his shoulder at the pages he’s flipped the book open to. “There are so many names.” His tone is strained, as if he’s forcing himself to show less emotion. “You’re right, that’s Malachi’s surname—and Enid’s.”
“Her name isn’t crossed out yet,” I say, “but Malachi’s name was. Then I found out that he was transferred.”
Across the open space of the Darkhaven’s living quarters, Kalix lounges in a chair by the fireplace, flipping a silver dagger up into the air before deftly catching it between his thumb and forefinger. He repeats the actions over and over as his eyes haze over with barely contained boredom.
“The rest of these pages are blank,” Ruen murmurs as he flips through the book. His midnight gaze lifts to mine. “Is there a reason for that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I admit openly. “Caedmon gave me the book when I was just a Terra—it was originally just information about the Hinterlands. Then it changed. He said it’s a book of prophecies.”
“So these names are a prophecy?” Theos frowns and then jumps when a dagger flies past all of our heads and embeds itself between two stones in the wall.
“Kalix,” Ruen’s cold tone is a chastisement.
The response is a low deep groan of annoyance. “This is stupid,” Kalix snaps. “The book isn’t telling us anything.”
I turn when the chair beneath Kalix creaks as he gets to his feet, boots slamming onto the floor. “I say we go to Caedmon and make him tell us what the damned prophecy is.”
“You can’t threaten a God to get information,” I remind him, though honestly I wish we could. Though I’m frustrated with Caedmon’s secrets and I’m not entirely sure if he’s with us or against us yet, something deep within me says he’s not trying to harm us.
Kalix’s lips split into a wide smile. “Oh, little liar. ” He tuts at me. “You should know better. There are other ways to get someone to spill their secrets.”
I suck in a breath and narrow my eyes on the most unhinged of the Darkhaven brothers. “You can’t torture one either,” I grit out.
Another groan and he collapses back into his chair. “What is the point of being so powerful if I’m not allowed to have any Gods damned fun?” he demands.
When no one answers him, he withdraws another blade that, until this moment, had been completely hidden somewhere on his body. The distinct thwip thwip of his return to the flipping of the blade into the air and catching it is all that lingers in the air until Theos speaks.
“Why can’t Caedmon just tell us what the prophecies are instead of giving you a book that only gives hints?” he asks.
“He said it’s something about his ability—a barrier,” I answer him. “I guess if he were to tell us straight out what the prophecies are or what the future is, it would change and he wouldn’t be able to help us at all.”
Despite my words and the fact that I do now understand where Caedmon is coming from, Theos’ frustration matches my own.
“Divinity is complicated, but it does have its own laws,” Ruen says with a nod. “So that makes sense.”
I look at him. “It does?”
“Yes.” Ruen’s eyes lower to the pages of the book, one thumb hooked between two of them, but holding the current side in place as he stares at the names listed there. “Even the Gods have to answer for their powers. It’s why Axlan needs victory. Why Dolos needs oppression. Why Maladesia is in charge of raising young Mortal Gods—they need praise as much as she needs to give it. The Gods are controlled by their abilities and they have to continue to feed them.”
“But … why doesn’t the same apply to the Mortal Gods?” The sounds of Kalix’s dagger toss and catch cease. All eyes turn to me. I look around the room. “What?” I demand, frowning at the three of them.
“What did you just say?” Ruen’s question isn’t so much a question as it is a command worded as one.
“Mortal Gods don’t have to feed their powers the same way the Gods do, unless … they do?”
Gold, green, and midnight gazes clash. “I’ve never thought of it like that,” Theos murmurs as Kalix gets up and his dagger disappears back beneath his clothes.
“She’s right though,” Ruen says. “We don’t need to feed our abilities like the Gods.”
Kalix strides across the room, cutting through the throng of us until he’s at the wall and jerking his earlier blade from its place in the wall. “What does that mean?” he asks, turning to face us.
“I don’t know,” Ruen admits, “but it could be another reason why they’ve made it a crime to hide Mortal Gods, why they’ve ensured that all God blood children are sent to their academies.”
“Does it matter if we need to feed our powers or not?” I ask as I fold my arms across my chest. “The fact still remains, Gods are naturally more powerful than we are.”
“ Are they? ” The silence that follows Ruen’s quiet question is loud enough to be a sound on its own.
The four of us remain still and silent long after the echo of Ruen’s voice has dispersed from the air. If the Gods need to feed their power and we don’t … does that mean that their rules do not apply to us?
“Caedmon said that they lied about mortals being able to kill them,” I whisper, half afraid of disturbing the odd sort of dark peace that hovers between us. “He said they aren’t Gods at all.”
“And if they’ll lie about that, then what else have they lied about?” Ruen offers.
Our eyes meet and clash.
“Can we even trust the knowledge of them needing to feed their powers?” Theos asks.
Kalix nods. “Yes, I believe so. I don’t think that’s a lie.”
“Why?” I jerk my attention to him. “What do you know?”
Kalix is frowning as he settles his hands on his hips and stares down, though I know from the look on his face—more concentrated than it’s ever been—that he’s not seeing just the floor. “Hatzi,” he states.
I try to remember which God he’s speaking of. “The God of Travel?”
He nods. “Hatzi went with me when I was taken to Talmatia’s region, Mineval.” My spine stiffens as cool green eyes lift and his lips twitch.
I should’ve stabbed him harder and twisted. As if he senses my thoughts, his smile widens.
“Why is that of any import?” Ruen asks, disrupting the invisible battle of wills between us.
Kalix’s attention goes to his brother. “He seemed quite agitated on our way there, but the moment we were traveling he settled. When the Terra set to go with and serve him asked, he said it had to do with his power. He doesn’t just like to travel, he needs to. He can remain in one place for a short period of time, but if he goes too long without traveling then he grows more than agitated, he becomes like an alcoholic in need of a drink.”
Ruen nods and his expression turns contemplative as he closes the book in his hand. I reach for it, taking it from him and holding it closer to my chest.
“Okay,” I say. “So the Gods need to feed their powers and we don’t. That doesn’t help us figure out what’s going on with the Mortal Gods. Enid’s name is next on the list. If we don’t do something then she’s going to be transferred.”
“What if that’s all it is though?” Theos asks. “What if she really is just being transferred to another academy? There’s nothing wrong there.”
I shake my head. “No, the book wouldn’t mention it if it weren’t important,” I argue before flipping the book around with the front facing outward. “Look at it.” I point. “Look at the title.”
“To Those Who Have Been Stolen,” Theos reads the title aloud and then sighs. His shoulders slump in defeat. “You’re right. That doesn’t exactly sound like the title for a list of names of people who are okay.”
“They’ve been stolen,” I insist. “But what does that mean? ” Frustration colors my tone, and to my surprise, it’s Ruen who steps closer and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll figure it out,” he says.
The sharp bolt of heat that spreads from his palm through the fabric of my tunic makes me look up at him, my eyes fixating on his lips in remembrance of how they felt against mine. He’d been so heavy on top of me, controlling, commanding. My thighs press together. Would he be the same if we did it again?
Thankfully, my thoughts don’t lead me to do something stupid like lean forward and place my mouth back on his to find out. Because, in the next instant, a loud cracking against the window has all of our heads turning in that direction. A groan rumbles up my chest and I quickly thrust the book back into Ruen’s grasp as I turn and stalk across the room. Flipping the lock and opening the glass, Regis’ crow flutters into the room.
“Caw! Caw!” The bird flaps its wings and circles overhead before landing on my shoulder in a fury of feathers. Its beak pecks lightly at my head.
I glare sideways at the damn creature before ripping the scroll off its leg. I’m already halfway to the fire of the hearth, intending to toss this note where all the others have gone when I stop. There’s a splotch of something dark, a stain, on the side of the scroll. When I lift it to my face, the scent of blood hits me.
I slip open the note with fast, trembling fingers. There are only two short sentences, but they turn my insides to pure ice.
Underworld has been breached. Stay safe. — R
Breached? The Underworld has been breached? When? How?
“What is it?” Ruen is across the room and at my side in a split second. He takes the note from my hand and curses. “Kiera?” He looks at me. “What does this mean?”
I lift my gaze to his. “It means the Underworld is collapsing,” I say.
“How?” he demands.
Regis’ crow nuzzles its beak against my cheek as if seeking comfort. I reach up, absently rubbing my fingertips over the bird’s feathers along its neck. No wonder the animal was acting odd.
“I don’t know,” I answer Ruen without emotion. “It’s never happened before. The Underworld has been around for decades—hundreds of years—Ophelia is only the most recent head.”
“Do you think the Gods…” Theos’ question drifts off as my eyes move sharply to him.
“ No, they can’t know. ” I don’t know if I say the words because I believe them to be true or because I want them to be.
Regis is alive though. If he weren’t then he wouldn’t have been able to send me this note. I straighten and glance at the bird perched on my shoulder. Regis’ crow looks back at me with deep black eyes.
“We need to go,” I say.
“Go?” Ruen crumples the piece of parchment in his fist. “Go where?”
“To the city,” I snap, storming forward. “To the shop.”
I hurry past Ruen and then Theos, both theirs and Kalix’s eyes watching me as I rush for Ruen’s room. I grab my cloak and thrust it on. Regis’ crow caws at me again but he leaves my shoulder to allow the movement and then circles me as I head back into the living area.
“Kalix, I need—” A little tap on my booted foot nearly sends me jumping out of my skin and I cut myself off to look down and spy a snake with a glimmering shimmer of jade green scales peering up at me. There’s a dagger handle sticking out of its mouth along with a leather strap.
Bending, I take it from the creature and look at Kalix, who’s looking at me rather smug, and nod my thanks. The snake slithers away now that its task is complete and I hook the strap of the dagger sheath around my thigh, buckling it into place.
“You’re not going alone,” Ruen barks. “So don’t even think of it.”
“Then hurry up,” I snap back. “I’m going with or without you and I’m going now. ”
“If the Underworld is breached then they’re likely not at the shop anymore.” Ruen’s reasoning is solid, but so is mine.
“It’s the last place they were known to be,” I reply. “I can try to pick up a trail to know where Regis has gone, plus—” I lift my arm and Regis’ crow lands on it. “This one can lead me to him if we get close enough.” Crows are intelligent creatures with long memories and each crow trained by the Underworld knows their primary agents. This one will know where to find Regis.
Ruen’s hands ball into fists and he turns towards his brothers. “Talk to her!” he yells. “Make her see reason!”
Theos groans. “I don’t think we can stop her.”
Kalix moves for the stairs. “I’ll grab a few more weapons.”
Good. Yes. Weapons we might need. “Another dagger for me,” I call after him.
Ruen thrusts a hand into his hair, grabs a chunk of the dark inky strands and yanks. “This is ridiculous. We can’t risk leaving the Academy right now. The God Council is here!”
“Risk or not, I’m leaving,” I state. “Are you coming with me?”
Blue-purple eyes glow red. “Fuck you,” he growls. “Yes, of course, I’m coming, damn it.”
The tightness I hadn’t realized was coiling in my chest eases the slightest bit. Relief slides through me. “But not all of us,” he says when I’m about to thank him.
I scowl. “I’m not?—”
“You’ll go,” he assures me, dropping his hand from his hair before I can tell him that there’s no way I’m staying behind. “Kalix and I will go.” He turns to Theos. “You will stay.”
Theos blinks and then scowls. “What? Why me?” he practically yells. “Why do I have to stay behind?”
Through gritted teeth, Ruen responds. “Because we need someone here to act as a look out in case any of the Gods comes looking for us.”
Theos grinds his jaw but doesn’t say anything which, to me, means that he sees the logic in Ruen’s words.
“And,” Ruen continues after a beat, “I’ll need you to call for Maeryn. Have her Terra bring her here.”
“What for?” I ask, frowning as the door above opens and Kalix appears at the stairs, quickly moving downward.
“You’re going to the shop to find your fellow assassin, Kiera,” Ruen replies. “If the spot of blood on his note is any indication, he’s hurt. We’re going to find him and bring him back here. That’s the mission. Can you handle it?”
The last words, a question, make my back go ramrod straight. Insulted at him even bothering to ask deepens my voice to my own growl. “ Yes .”
Ruen nods and Kalix finishes his descent, handing me another dagger upon passing. I take it and Regis’ crow lifts away from my arm to allow me to strap it to my other thigh. Kalix tosses Ruen a cloak and then dons his own.
“Good,” Ruen states, “then, let's go.”