Chapter 35 #3
“Not in the beginning,” he said. “I was skeptical. When I first began following you. I thought you were just another sell sword for the White Pantheon. I thought you were motivated by nothing but your own selfishness. But I’ve become an expert in finding out exactly what people want and leveraging it.
I thought, Well. At least she will be easy to use. ”
The words stung more than I would have expected. Even though—or perhaps because—they were true. He had been right about what he’d seen when he looked at me.
I turned away, making a show of observing the horizon. But I wondered if perhaps my hurt showed on my face, because Septimus rose to stand beside me.
“For a time,” he emphasized. “A short time. Surely you cannot think that your aloof act is all that good, lyri. Because anyone who is with you for any stretch would quickly learn that you’re far more than that.”
A pang in my heart, a confusing one.
I thought of Valentina, the last time I had seen her. She had spent more time with me than anyone else. But apparently Septimus was wrong, because even she had not known whether she meant anything more to me than her latest gadget. Right up until the end.
“So yes,” Septimus said quietly. “I realized quite quickly what your goal was. It wasn’t difficult to see that none of this was about money or power for you.
And from there, no great logical leap to see where your ultimate target lay.
” I could hear the suppressed smile in his voice.
“After all, you are the Vindica Ultis. The chosen one of retribution. And who better deserves it?”
My heart clenched tight, tight, tight, the pound of it deafening.
Gods, I was angry. I was angry even though I didn’t know why—even though I knew, I knew, it was not a rational reaction.
I felt slighted. Cheated of something simple, something straightforward.
But then, I already had been. The simplicity of this had started slipping away almost immediately, and I had just been trying not to notice.
“So this was your little secret,” I said. “Nyaxia being your ultimate goal.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a—”
“A very deliberate omission.”
“The gods see everything. Everything. The less I spoke of this, the better. You know very well the consequences of betraying a god. I only get one chance at this.”
Consequences. I saw Valentina’s mangled body. And that had merely been Shiket’s abandonment. Not a deliberate punishment.
The gods see everything.
He was right. Yet, he spoke freely here. I glanced at him, and maybe he saw my unasked question.
“The Bloodborn have been in a precarious position with our goddess for a long time,” he said.
“We have our ways of keeping the gods’ eyes away, even if they are imperfect.
Our seers do their work here, in the most sheltered bowels of the House of Blood, or in places like Glaea’s Salt Keep, in such murky territory that none of the gods have too much visibility.
But a key piece of that strategy is making sure that Nyaxia never suspects disloyalty. Hence why I am so very, very loyal.”
His lips curled around that word like it was poison. I felt so foolish for not seeing it before—just how much he hated her. Now, he reeked of it.
His gaze held mine for a long moment. I didn’t want to be seen.
I involuntarily thought of the vision he had witnessed when I had played Kajmar’s harp, and I felt more naked than I had in that bathtub or pleasure hall.
That was vulnerability I had wielded for power. This—this just made me feel weak.
“So that means there was another part of this prophecy, yes?” I said coldly. “The one about me. You showed me the fall of the White Pantheon. Nothing about Nyaxia.”
“That was going to come later.”
“Well. It’s later.”
A quirk at the corner of his mouth. “It is.” He gestured to the door. “Come.”
Septimus led me into his sitting room. It was a small library, every wall jammed with books and scribbled papers.
It was the only room in this place that looked lived in at all—like whatever rare time at home was spent here.
There was a hearth on one side of the room, and before it sat a tray with a familiar assortment of colorful powders and liquids.
Like the ones Sylina had brought to us in the Salt Keep, the first time Septimus had shown me my role in what was to come.
“I had it prepared,” he said. “A seer did the hard part, before we arrived.”
“You do like to anticipate everything, don’t you?”
“When I can. Though certain people make it difficult.”
He sat by the fire and gestured for me to do the same. I kneeled. The flames gave off no warmth.
“I didn’t lie to you in Glaea. Everything that Sylina showed you was the truth.” He began tossing cups of powder and liquid into the fire. The fire jumped and lurched, surging green, purple, white. “It was merely . . . incomplete. Would you like me to show you the rest?”
I hesitated, though I didn’t know why. Zefiah throbbed faintly at my back—still conspicuously silent.
But of course I wanted to know. I nodded. He put his hand into the fire, palm up, inviting mine.
I laid my hand in his, and the world burned away.