Chapter 46
Cal
Obitus. Okay.
“No, you’re not,” I called to the driva as I unstrapped the pack from his side.
It almost seemed the clouds had followed me across the Widow’s Sea from Nesan to where we landed in Redwater.
They were the slightest bit of mercy from the sun.
It wasn’t Araqina, but it was still warm.
“Just a few hours of sleep and then we’ll continue on to Taitha. ”
I told myself the only reason we stopped in Redwater was so Obitus could sleep. I didn’t want to admit I needed this time to think because I still hadn’t figured out exactly what the fuck to do. I wasn’t even sure why I’d set out for Taitha.
Obitus. Go. Cal. On.
“Close your eyes.”
Obitus. Sleep. Cal. Sleep.
“You’ll only sleep if I sleep? I’m not going to be able to sleep, buddy. Too much to think about. ”
Okay. Obitus. Go. His wings rustled as he flexed his legs.
I grunted in frustration, dropping my pack to the stones on the beach. “Fine. But you better keep the snoring to a minimum.”
He gave a satisfied grunt before he collapsed in the sand once again. Obitus. No. Snore.
“You’d be surprised.” I stretched out next to him, trying to position my head against my pack in a way that wouldn’t leave a crick in my neck.
I didn’t want to sleep in the same house we’d stayed in when we first passed through Redwater, but I didn’t want to roam the streets of a ghost city, looking for a house that seemed the least abandoned. We were down the beach from where Miles had first revealed his secret and asked me to keep it.
Malosym would attack again. That much was certain. But I was banking on him attacking Taitha, knowing it was weakened from his previous attempt. I’d find him then and kill him. Maybe I could bait him, lure him from wherever he was hiding.
It was a shit plan.
He had to be hiding in the Darkness Beyond, right?
Somewhere in that depthless expanse overrun with Occulti.
He had to be there. I’d gotten lucky last time and followed Petra through the pathway Malosym had opened, but I’d have no such luck this time around.
There was no other way to get to the Darkness Beyond. Unless…
“Your eyrie is in Hell, right, Obitus?” I called, hoping my voice reached his ears at the top of that serpentine neck.
Yes. A shiver traveled down the line extending between us. Cold. No. Sunshine.
“How do you get there?”
Iron. Rise. Human. Can’t.
I blinked. The Iron Rise. The mountain that rose above Taitha .
With a nod, I crossed one foot over the other and forced my eyes to shut. The legends said the Iron Rise was Rhedros’ portal to Hell, and it was about to be mine, too.
◆ ◆ ◆
“What the hell are you doing here?” Whit called to me when Obitus landed just outside of Taitha. Shit, he looked just as awful as Nell had. Ventus tromped up behind him, chirping when he saw Obitus. “I just about shit my pants when I saw you on the horizon. Thought it was another attack.”
“Apologies. I’m here because I, uh, have an idea,” I answered, loosening the strap keeping me in my seat and sliding me from Obitus. My palm slapped against Whit’s back, and even though there was a smile on his face, it was weak. “How’s it going here?”
“Been better.”
When we left Taitha, much of it had been damaged, but now…
even from where we stood just outside the city, I could tell entire blocks were missing.
One of the towers of the castle had toppled over.
Taitha felt different, the air heavier, the sky seeming to close in.
“Morale is low. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. ”
“None of us do,” I answered, leaving the drivas to greet each other as we headed into the city. I slung my bag over my shoulder, assessing the grim state of the buildings I could see.
“Did Nell arrive safely?” Whit asked.
“She did. Just in time for another Occulti attack.”
His eyes widened in fear. “Queen Petra?”
“She’s safe.”
“Lieutenant Landgrave?”
I didn’t mince words this time. “He’s dead, Whit. I’m sorry.”
Whit bit the inside of his cheek, eyes forward as we continued into the city.
He was silent for a long moment. It was no secret he loved to rib Miles, loved to get under his skin.
But the face of the man beside me was one of mourning, one that reflected a quiet, admirable respect. “Occulti?” he finally asked.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. He had some injuries from Eserene that never fully healed.”
He didn’t push further, didn’t demand more of the truth. Maybe that explanation was enough for him. The streets were desolate as we made our way through the city. But it wasn’t the same kind of ghostly quiet I heard in Blindbarrow and Redwater. “Where is everyone?”
“Hiding. Waiting. Like I said, morale is low. People are scared.” We neared the castle, the wide stone steps yawning out in front of us.
“After you left, spirits remained high. There was hope. Everyone here had survived the battle in Eserene, and it seemed like Petra was going to find a solution. But after the attack a few days ago…” He let out a heavy sigh, one weighted with desperation.
“The Occulti were different this time. They didn’t look like Vacants. They looked like…”
“Monsters,” I answered with a nod. “Yeah.”
We were silent as we ascended the stairs. As we neared the top, the castle doors swung open and Commander Summercut emerged, his hands at his side and his weathered face looking worse for wear. “King Belin?”
“Hello, Commander.”
“Queen Petra?”
“She’s fine,” Whit answered before I could, passing into the castle and nodding to one of the handmaidens standing just inside. “Anna, could you please make up a room for King Belin and deliver his bag?”
“Certainly,” the woman answered, lowering her head.
“I’ll be happy to bring it up myself,” I said politely before turning to Whit. “I wouldn’t mind catching a few hours of sleep on something that’s not either a driva’s back or the hard ground.”
Whit’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Later. ”
“Later?”
He pursed his lips. “I sent word, but it won’t arrive in Araqina for another two weeks. But now that you’re here, there’s something you need to see.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“It happened right after Malosym attacked, only a few hours after Nell left for Araqina,” Whit said as he rubbed his jaw, staring at the familiar woman standing stock still behind the bars.
The dank smell of the dungeon made me cringe.
It was only a few weeks ago that I’d been thrown in a cell just a couple down from this one. “She just…changed.”
“I don’t understand,” I breathed. “Does he have another Bloodsinger to make sacrifices for him? He must have her blood.”
“We don’t know,” Summercut answered, his voice just as resigned as Whit’s. “Luckily, we were able to subdue her, but I’m not sure where to go from here.”
Petra was going to be devastated.
Slowly, I took a step closer to the cell. Blood magic was at play here, evident in the sinister way she stared at me with those unnatural amber eyes. Her cheeks were too sharp, her shoulders too angular. Her soul was gone.
“Irabel,” I said softly. Her only response was a slight cock of her head. “It’s me, Cal. You remember me, right?”
Petra’s mother was silent.
“Irabel,” I repeated.
“Of course I remember you,” she hissed, her voice echoing off the stone walls of Taitha’s dungeon and slithering down my spine.
“Good. We want to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”
“You want to help me?” she snarled. “Let me out of here. ”
“We can’t do that,” I answered, my tone even. “Not until you’re healed.”
She scoffed, a disconcertingly sharp fingernail trailing over the bars as she began to pace slowly. “There’s nothing to heal. Darkness will win this war. It will be a far more pleasant world in which to reside should I remain in this state.”
Her sequence of speech, the eerie hiss to her voice… I knew this wasn’t Irabel, but my brain was having a hard time reconciling the fact. “Darkness will not win this war.”
“He’s stronger than her,” she answered simply, turning on her foot to pace back the other way. The soft ping , ping , ping of her fingernail against the bars, the inhuman hiss in her voice… They stoked something in me. Something angry.
“She’s smarter than him,” I answered, and it was the truth.
“And yet who wins the fight? The person with the stronger fist or the one with the quicker wit?”
I sucked my teeth, steadying my breathing. “The one who keeps the fist from swinging in the first place.”
She threw her head back, a throaty cackle tearing through the musty dungeon. “Spare me the theatrics, Belin.”
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t drive my sword through your chest right now, Irabel.” My words were hard, driven by the frustration I held toward the woman for being such a shitty mother for so long.
She stopped, turning toward me and wrapping her hands around two of the bars on her cell. “Do it,” she demanded. “Kill me. It won’t keep Malosym from crushing your precious Petra beneath his boot.”
“She’s your Petra too,” I growled. I could see no spark of the woman I’d known her to be, no clue she was still in there.
Her soul was gone, but I knew right where it was.
It was in the same place I was going to end up, on some dusty shelf alongside souls that had once belonged to the greediest and most wretched of humans.
And for some reason, that made me even angrier .
I pulled Aegrabane from its sheath. Irabel didn’t so much as flinch as I held its tip to where she’d pressed her face to the bars. A manic energy radiated from her as she waited.
“Cal,” Whit said from behind me. “Take a breath.”
My jaw ground back and forth as my sword remained poised for one final moment before I sheathed it. I couldn’t kill Petra’s mother. Of course I couldn’t. Even if the woman standing imprisoned before me was no longer Petra’s mother at all.
I turned on my heel, making my way for the stairs out of this Saints forsaken dungeon. The moment I set foot on the ground floor, I laid eyes on Solise. Her gaze flew wide, her weathered face slackening as she took me in. “Petra?” she breathed shakily.
“She’s fine,” I answered, trying to eliminate the brusqueness from my tone. “How are you, Solise?”
She visibly relaxed, a hand covering her heart. “I’ve been better, dear,” she finally said, attempting to inject an air of normalcy into her tone. Her eyes flashed to Whit. “You showed him?”
Whit gave an affirming nod. “We did.”
“I tried everything I could,” Solise said quietly, folding her hands in front of her as a look of shame pulled down at her features. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to cure her.”
I wasn’t sure what to say in response at first. “Petra would be thankful you tried at all, Solise. You know that.”
Her answering smile was watery as she looked up at me.
I cocked my head, trying to discern the look that had suddenly pooled in her eyes.
“Thank you for saying that.” She took a tentative step forward, one dainty, wrinkled hand reaching up toward my face.
I had to crane my neck lower for her to reach, but she smiled when her palm rested against my cheek.
“I was wrong about you, you know,” she said.
“You’re good to your core, Cal. I’m sorry I ever tried to convince Petra otherwise. ”
I closed my hand over hers, giving it a light squeeze. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Solise. There was a time when I wasn't good to my core.”
“No,” she refuted, her tone suddenly firm. “There was a time when you were acting in accord with someone else’s will, but there was never a time you weren’t good.”
Unexpected heat flared behind my eyes. Shit. “Thank you, Solise,” I murmured, giving her hand one more squeeze before she lowered it back to her side.
“I want to come with you when you go back to Araqina,” she said suddenly, her voice matter-of-fact.
I opened my mouth to tell her I probably wouldn’t be going back to Araqina.
It was likely I’d die in pursuit of Malosym’s life.
I wasn’t sure what would become of Irabel if I was successful.
I wasn’t sure what would happen to her if I was unsuccessful.
But I nodded anyway, giving Solise this tiny gift of hope.
“Sure. Though I must warn you, the ride there will be uncomfortable.”
“Inkwell raises us strong,” she said, a conspiratorial smile pulling up at her cheeks.
With a parting nod, I prowled through the castle, heading toward the front door. Heading for the Iron Rise. Heading for Hell.