Chapter 36 Lore
THIRTY-SIX
Lore
I GLANCED AROUND at what appeared to be a bedchamber, struggling to recall how I ended up here. Dark sage curtains were drawn, a fire burned low in an oversized hearth, and the towering walls were filled with shelves of books.
I was currently sprawled on an enormous bed made up of an assortment of sage and gold sheets and quilts, and I wasn’t alone.
Rough, calloused fingers brushed against my ankles as they curled around the hemline of my gown, slowly dragging it up.
My body tensed, wondering what fresh level of hell I’d ended up in now.
I looked down my body and my blood instantly heated.
The prince knelt by my feet, and he was doing that thing again where his entire focus was set on me. His pale eyes were locked on mine, and I’d never been more relieved to see him looking less demon and more wicked prince.
“Hi.”
Sloth’s cool gaze flickered with something that almost looked like amusement but was replaced by raw, animal hunger.
“Something wrong, Peaches?”
I bit my lower lip. And his focus followed the movement.
“Where are we?”
“My home.” This time concern marred his features instead of desire. “After you annihilated Death and War, you passed out. I brought us here as soon as I could. I needed to recharge my power or else I would have waited to move you. You’ve been sleeping ever since.”
He hesitated as if to gauge my reaction.
I kept my expression neutral. I had no idea how he managed to get us here when we’d been trapped in Somnia, which made me automatically suspicious. He’d mentioned something about magical wards keeping us there. Unless I’d won the Trials, they should still be in place.
“You woke a few minutes ago and said you’d been having nightmares. That you wanted me to prove this was real. I think whatever you’re feeling might be lingering effects from the Trials, but they’re over, Peaches.”
“How?”
“When you killed the Fae, you were lost in shadows, but you chose to come back to me. Instead of staying lost to that pull of dark magic, you chose the light, and the book lost. The wards broke and we were free to leave.”
“Oh.”
It sounded plausible. But it was rather anticlimactic.
And it didn’t explain why I was pretty sure I was the Goddess of Night.
He sat back on his heels, letting his hands fall away. I missed their warmth almost immediately. “You still think you’re in a nightmare.”
It wasn’t a question. He’d ascertained by my expression and whatever other methods of deduction he used that I was still wary.
Rightfully so. The Liber Noctem was a master manipulator.
“Where is the book?” I asked. “And how did your magic get restored?”
There were still so many threads I needed answers to.
“The book is bound in an enchanted section of my library.” He gave me a boyish grin that melted my heart.
“You and I are the only ones with access to it. I’ll take you there now if you wish.
I believe my magic was somehow fueling the book’s power.
Once it was rendered inert, I used the phoenix tear to transport us to my House.
My magic is fueled by my court, so I’m fine now. ”
Huh. It sounded logical. But I wasn’t fully sold yet.
“So the moment I decided to not go Dark Lore, the Trials ended?”
“Something like that.” His mouth twitched up on one side.
“From what I understand now, the Trials were always meant to test Nyantha. To see if she still chose the dark over the light. It was a way to make her relive the way she’d tormented others—some mortals liken it to karma.
The old gods have similar punishments they employ. ”
I thought of the nightmare with the faceless goddess ghost.
The one who’d stepped into me.
Questions with no answers flickered through my head, one after another. Had that all been an illusion? Another fear I’d had about not being in control of myself? Was he saying the Trials really were about redemption? That I was the Goddess of Night and I’d risen from the ashes of my cruel past?
And since I didn’t go Dark Lore on the realms, I was now free? Poof, just like that? A terrifying, sadistic goddess was now… pardoned and could carry on?
It was very plausible, but I had some serious trust issues after the last few false endings.
This time, though, it seemed like the Big Bad had really been defeated.
It was honestly hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was the villain in my own damn story and didn’t have a clue.
Though, to be fair, I’d always argued with Fable over this very thing. Most villains saw themselves as their own heroes. It was all very subjective.
Still, it felt… unfinished. Maybe I was just addicted to adventure now.
Or maybe the new, fully reunited parts of myself—Nyantha and Lore—were still a little bloodthirsty and I needed to keep myself on a tight leash.
Could I really be trusted to be out of my cage? Maybe the realms were safer with me locked away.
The prince had been watching me closely and tugged his tunic off, turning so I could look at his back. Several deep wounds were scabbing over.
I sat up in bed, heart racing as those final moments of reality came crashing back.
Arrows flying at us from above, Sloth shielding my body with his…
I’d completely forgotten that Death had tried to kill me and had pumped those poison-tipped arrows into Blondie instead.
I had gone feral when he’d been hit.
No wonder I’d gone over to the dark side for a while. I’d never felt more fear or rage in my life. I’d wanted to end the world and everything in it.
If Sloth was killed… I couldn’t finish the thought.
A sob broke free as I scrambled to the edge of the bed and tightly hugged the prince.
He gathered me up in his arms and buried his face in the crook of my neck.
“It’s okay, Lore. We’re alive. We made it. The worst is over.”
He held me while tears streamed down my face, muttering soft words of encouragement until my emotions slowly began to settle.
When the last of my tears dried up, he leaned back.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He cradled my face in his hands. “I love you, Peaches.”
He brought his mouth to mine, his kiss chaste and sweet.
My lips parted, and the moment his tongue touched mine, I ceased to exist.
He broke our kiss and whispered, “Carpe Noctem.”
So it was another damned nightmare.
“Lying bastard!”
And just like it had the last time he spoke those words, the world around me went dark.
I stood on the dais of my throne room, staring down coldly at the traitors who’d been found trying to break in and free the true prince.
I had him locked inside his own mind until I decided what to do with him. The Liber Noctem was only too happy to do my bidding and keep operating his body while he remained powerless.
Three mortals knelt at the base of the dais, their wrists bound in front of them. Bruises marred much of their swollen faces, and their tunics were splattered in blood and dirt.
They’d fought hard, but it hadn’t been enough to escape.
When my shadow warriors were given orders, they followed through without question. My attention flicked to the army of Nocturnas lining the walls of the throne room. I’d called them in and told them to be ready.
The mortals shifted; the polished stone was not comfortable to kneel on. And I’d made them wait while I’d had my dark prince fetch my blade.
Something inside me seized at the sight of them; then as quickly as the emotion came, it was gone. Must be the last vestiges of human sentimentality.
My vessel was too softhearted.
“What’s taking so long?” I asked, not taking my gaze off the humans.
I couldn’t stop staring at their bloody clothing. I didn’t like the way it made me feel even more off-balance.
“Where is Nightsblade?”
The Liber Noctem’s host studied me with that fathomless gaze before presenting me with my favorite midnight blade. The weapon was a gift from a friend long ago, a friend whose name I couldn’t quite recall. Nightsblade could kill any monster or man.
It was covered in silver runes and glowed faintly.
“Nightsblade. Your execution dagger.”
My heart began pounding harder.
My memories were fracturing again; facts I thought I knew were getting hazy, less certain. I felt like I was losing my mind.
I stared down at the mortals, waiting for recognition to spark again.
I knew they were traitors, or at least that was what I’d been told, but I couldn’t remember giving the command to capture them, nor could I recall deciding their fate.
In fact, I couldn’t remember anything before taking the throne. It was as if a dark curtain had fallen, sealing me off from the rest of myself.
I glanced at the crowd of courtiers still bowing.
Was this why I’d called everyone to court?
My thoughts were scattered. I felt like me and I didn’t. It was like two sides fighting for supremacy and neither was gaining the upper hand.
I saw myself take the dagger, felt the cold hilt as I wrapped my fingers around it. But I was wholly detached from the moment.
I felt compelled to look at the weapon. It looked like there was something missing from the end of the hilt, something that had been pried off it.
Something I was positive should never have been removed…
I faltered at that, searching for a memory that eluded me.
Whatever had been taken from the blade… I knew it was important but couldn’t recall why.
What I did know with certainty was that I’d used this weapon countless times, on countless condemned. I’d stood by and watched mortals and supernaturals bleed out and hadn’t hesitated. They’d ended up in the designs around my throne room, the tapestries, the columns.
These traitors should be no different.
The strange screaming was back in my head.
A howling, keening sound of pain. And fear.
It was feminine, familiar.
Was that the mortal vessel I’d once been?
I rolled my shoulders, easing the tension in them.
I stepped forward, facing the younger of the two males. His dark hair fell in a tousled mess across his forehead, partially hiding his features.