CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Iwake to an overwhelming sense of sadness. It’s a heavy, suffocating blanket that turns the world gray, making it almost impossible for me to drag myself out of bed.
It’s only when both Leon and Albion are missing from training that the realization hits me like a fist to the gut.
Today marks six years since Kassia took her last breath.
My chest hollows out, and I stagger from the training hall.
I forgot. Somehow, I woke up in this place, in this life, and I forgot.
The thought claws at me, and I pull in deep, jagged breaths.
Leon didn’t say a word last night.
Somehow, I make it to his room. When he doesn’t answer, I unashamedly pick his lock with the technique he taught me. The click is too loud in the silent corridor, and I push the door open. The sight of his neatly made bed makes my stomach drop.
Empty.
Did he … leave? Or is he barely making it through the day?
I stand in his open doorway, my chest burning with each breath. I’m the last person he’ll want to see today. But I can’t stop myself. I need to know he’s not unconscious after drinking himself into a stupor.
I need to know he hasn’t left me here. Alone.
But no. Albion is with him. He has to be. And Albion is the only other person here who understands what it’s like to lose a child to this place.
“Arvelle?” Jorah holds out his hand, and I flinch back. When did he get here?
“Wh-what?”
“You’re crying.”
I wipe at my face, the motion jerky, my mind sharpening. I’m still standing in Leon’s doorway, my eyes leaking. Brenin’s guardant raises his brow at me as he walks past, and I turn toward Jorah.
“Have you seen Leon?”
His face twists in sympathy. “I know where he is. Do you want me to take you to him?”
I nod, unable to speak, and he reaches out, gently closing Leon’s door. “Follow me.”
Jorah leads me back toward the entrance of the ludus, retracing the steps from my first day here until I can almost feel the sun on my face. When we get to the statue of Anoxian, he gestures toward a door I’ve overlooked every other time I’ve walked this way.
The vast room is almost half the size of the training hall.
But its stillness makes it feel even larger.
Pale marble columns are etched with gold that flickers beneath the aether lamps, while statues of the gods line the walls, each painstakingly carved, expressions frozen in divine disapproval.
Offerings have been laid at their feet, and I watch as a guardant places a throwing knife in front of Anoxian, lowering his head in a bow.
The air smells faintly of stone and dust, mixed with dried flowers.
A few other novices and guardants are wandering the space, pausing at each statue. Each god. Calena stands near the statue of Anoxian, her eyes dark as she sweeps her gaze over his form.
“What is this?”
Jorah steps into the room, his voice little more than a whisper. “The vampires have a temple for Umbros in the ludus. Sigilkeeper Melus became displeased that the sigilmarked had nowhere to worship our own gods, so the emperor agreed to this space. They call it the Hall of the Gods.”
From what I know of the arrogant, imperious gods, they would hate this. One space to share, while Umbros has a dedicated temple? Blasphemy.
Still, I suppose it gives sigilmarked a place to worship.
Jorah squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I need to go finish my tasks.” He gives me his sweet smile before ducking back into the corridor.
Leon kneels at the far end of the hall before a breathtakingly lifelike statue of Thalunia, Albion at his side.
Leon has worshipped the goddess of the hunt since before Kassia was born. I still remember clutching her hand as he begged Thalunia to bestow her gifts upon us. And she did.
I’m faster than I should be, even now after so many years without training. Kassia was even faster, occasionally moving with such blazing speed, I would have bet on her against any newly turned vampire.
What was the point, Thalunia? What was the point of your blessing if Kassia was going to die anyway?
Leon rises, moving to the statue of Viderux—the god of the afterlife.
My throat burns like I’ve swallowed flames.
This is it, Velle. It’s all going to be different after this.
Some days, I can find it in me to be proud that I managed to keep my brothers alive after everything I lost. Most days, though, I’m sure of one thing: If Kassia met me now, she wouldn’t like me. And she sure wouldn’t understand me.
If I’d died that day … Gods, I used to play this game all the time.
If I’d died that day, and Kassia had lived, she would have taken my brothers and made a better life for them.
She would have mourned me, but she wouldn’t have let grief make her hard and cold and bitter.
Of the two of us, she was always the strongest. In all the ways that matter.
“Arvelle.”
I blink. Albion’s standing in front of me, his eyes dark with sorrow. “Would you like me to take you to him?”
My cheeks heat. I’m still lingering by the doorway, a few guardants gazing curiously at me.
“No.” I clear my throat. “No. I, ah, I shouldn’t have come here.”
What was I thinking? Leon doesn’t need me. He hasn’t needed me for six years. I’m a constant reminder of the worst day in his life. When he looks at me, he sees the woman who failed to do the one thing he trusted me to do: keep his daughter alive.
Albion studies my face. “I don’t think that’s true.” He turns, his gaze sweeping the hall, landing briefly on the statue of Kelindra. “I lost my wife long before I lost my son.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t tell you this for sympathy, Arvelle, but to share something I learned.
” He gives me a faint smile. “Neara was a beautiful woman. Beautiful and clever. But she was a mundane. It wasn’t something I ever thought about.
She was simply Neara. A woman with the most entrancing smile who loved to dance more than almost anything.
“But to her, being mundane was everything. She considered it to be the worst blow fate could have possibly dealt her. When our son was born with only a tiny bronze sigil, it broke her in ways I didn’t see at the time.
She stayed out late, dancing in the kinds of taverns she knew made me worry for her safety. And one night she didn’t come home.”
I stare at him, and he shakes his head. “She met a vampire, you see.” His tone is clipped, and it’s not just sadness in his eyes.
Now they hold a dull rage. “One who promised to turn her. For years I blamed myself. If I’d known what to say, if I’d understood how badly she was hurting, if I’d hauled her out of that tavern …
maybe my son would have had a mother. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost her to her sire.
To the one who forced her to service his friends in exchange for the blood she so desperately needed. ”
“You have to know that wasn’t your fault.”
Albion arches a single, pale eyebrow. “Do I?”
I know where he’s going with this. “It’s different.” The words come out sharper than I’d intended, and I lower my voice. “You know it’s different.”
“All I know is you were busy fighting for your own life that day. Were you supposed to fly across the arena to save your friend?”
I let out a choked laugh, and his lips curve. Albion’s expression softens, and he nods, moving back to Leon’s side.
When I scan the room again, only a few guardants and gladians remain. But one person doesn’t belong.
Bran.
Vampires don’t worship sigilmarked gods. I’ve personally witnessed Bran’s disdain. And yet here he is, his tall frame leaning toward Calena as he murmurs something into her ear.
She gives him a sharp nod, turning to place something down at Anoxian’s feet.
I eye Bran, waiting for him to approach me and hiss his usual threats. But he doesn’t. Instead, he smirks, his expression smug, and sweeps past me, disappearing into the corridor.
What is he up to?
Calena moves away from the statue, and I intercept her.
“Arvelle.”
“Uh. Hello. Uh … do you visit this place often?”
She smirks. “No. But if I’m going to be expected to protect Vallius Corvus, I’d better pray for the strength not to kill him and his murderous sons.”
Craning my neck, I scan the room for anyone within earshot. Calena turns to go.
“Wait.”
She gives me a cool look, and I clench my teeth. “You should stay away from Bran.”
Her gaze turns icy. “Excuse me?”
“He’s dangerous. Vicious. Whatever he offers you, it will ruin your life.”
“Speaking from experience?” Interest lights her eyes. When I shrug, she shakes her head.
“Something tells me you have more than enough to worry about without warning me away from vampires.” She strides away.
Fine. I tried.
Turning, I find Leon giving me a narrowed-eyed stare. Albion stands beside him, murmuring something too low for me to hear.
Leon … smiles.
It’s something I never could have imagined he would do today.
My breath hitches, eyes blurring, until I have to restrain myself from doing something strange like hugging Albion.
I cross the hall, and Albion nods at me, stepping away to give us privacy.
Leon turns back to the statue of Viderux. “I figured I’d see you at some point today,” he says without looking at me. Dropping a few coins into a collection at the statue’s feet, he heaves a sigh. “I always thought Kassia would be bored in the afterlife. I bet she’s stirring up trouble.”
I let out a wet laugh, and the corner of his mouth turns up. When he pins me with his steely gaze, I know he won’t talk to me about Kassia again. “Follow me.”
We leave the hall in silence, passing Albion, who kneels before Kelindra, grief etched into every line of his face.
Leon gestures for me to enter his room, closing the door behind us.
I wander his room, suddenly restless. Gods, I wish we could look out a window. “Can I ask you something?”
A stiff nod.
“Why did you never register Thalunia’s blessings?”