Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Nova
“If looks could kill, that soul shard would be obliterated by now,” Zayn said from his perch on the cushioned window seat of the parlor.
I blinked, dragging my stare away from the shard in question, which I’d spent the past hour trying to divine visions from. This was my fourth attempt in as many days, and they’d all been unsuccessful.
“I’m just…frustrated,” I muttered.
Phantom, who had been keeping watch by the door, padded over and shoved his head under my hand.
I absently scratched his favorite spot between his tapered ears as I said, “The last one yielded so easily. It gave me such a clear vision of Lorien—a better understanding of him. I was hoping to continue putting the puzzle together.”
Zayn picked through the platter of fruit and cheese beside him, popping a grape into his mouth.
“Do we honestly want to get to know the man better? You’ve met the guy.
I’ve met the guy. I’m still not convinced that there’s any vision you could have that would change my perception of him as a monumental bastard. ”
I absently ran my fingers over the scars in my palm—a lasting reminder of the words I’d carved into the Chamber of Echoes.
Four days since our ordeal. And every night, I’d woken up from nightmares of blood in my palm and words burning on the walls all around me.
Aleks had been there to comfort me, at least; we were back on speaking—and sleeping—terms, the vows we’d put forth in that chamber of truth helping to mend what had started to fracture between us.
But things were still strained. He still kept to himself more than I would have liked, even if I understood his need for space.
And we still had far too many questions about what lay ahead.
“I just feel like the truth is more complicated than we previously thought,” I said, looking back to the shard.
What had Lorien carved into the walls of that chamber?
What other truths were we missing about him?
“It’s like the magic in that place is still bearing down on me, even now. And I can’t help being obsessed with untangling things.”
Zayn conceded with a shrug, stretching out, tucking his hands behind his head, and closing his eyes. Only he could relax at a time like this.
“It’s not just about changing our perception of Lorien, either,” I pressed. “There’s power in understanding our enemies.”
“Fair point, I suppose.”
“It seems like we might have a common enemy in the Order, too, if they truly are the ones who came between him and Calista. I wonder what he knows about them? About their operations, their structure, their—”
The door started to open, interrupting us.
Phantom growled. Zayn bolted upright. I tensed, hand instinctively moving toward Grimnor; there were countless guards surrounding this room, and I’d asked them all to make sure I wasn’t disturbed by anyone aside from my inner circle.
I breathed a sigh of relief when it was one of those trusted few—Captain Voss—who stepped inside.
“Your Highness.” He gave a small bow. “I apologize for interrupting.”
“It’s fine.” I cast a forlorn look at the shard. “You’re not interrupting anything particularly productive.”
“I see. Could you follow me, then?” There was an urgency in his usually stoic tone that had me immediately rising to my feet and pulling on my coat.
“Where to?” I asked, tucking the shard of soul carefully into my pocket.
He merely beckoned and hurried out of the room; I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me.
I grabbed my sword and rushed after him.
Phantom followed after he’d shifted into a slightly larger, more imposing canine form—a form he’d been taking much more often as he escorted me through the halls these days, keeping any potential threats and overly curious courtiers at bay.
Zayn followed us as well, looking far more alert, suddenly. There was a nervous energy thrumming through the palace that I guess even he couldn’t relax underneath. We’d been insulated from it in the private parlor, but now it hit us in full force.
Much of that energy was because of the event looming just two days ahead—my coronation. An affair I’d somehow forgotten was imminent while we were dealing with everything else.
It was impossible to deny it was happening now, though; the preparations were all being made.
Servants rushed through corridors with linens and flower arrangements.
Guards rehearsed formations and security protocols.
More guests of all ranks had started to arrive, joining the ones we’d already been hosting for weeks.
The scent of food and wine drifted from the kitchens at all hours.
It was overwhelming, and yet…I felt oddly calm about the actual ceremony.
We’d all discussed it at great length in between our other missions—the necessity of giving this realm a strong figurehead at the center of its strongest kingdom.
Though I had my share of detractors, I was still the gods-blessed Vaelora and the rightful heir to Rivenholt’s throne.
One who had clawed this world back from the edge of complete annihilation, even if the job was still incomplete.
In the grander scheme of things, a crown on my head seemed almost like an afterthought to me. But I knew it was an important symbol to my people.
There was something else brewing under the surface of all the ceremony preparations, though. Something that made Captain Voss’s jaw tight and his steps quicker than usual—and that had me worried.
Finally, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity any longer; I placed a hand on his arm, drawing him to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes darted from side to side, checking for eavesdroppers. “The regent requested I not speak of it until we were in a safer location. Not much farther, come along…”
He took us outside, down the lantern-lined path that cut through the main gardens, past the training grounds and our largest greenhouses, and then farther still.
Leading us toward the private, royal stables, I soon realized; there was a small, hidden space connected to the tack room that we had occasionally used as a secure meeting place, and I assumed this was our ultimate destination.
As we approached the stable yard, I noticed a wagon parked near the entrance. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary in appearance, but the closer we got, the more uneasy I felt.
Phantom growled at the exact moment I caught a hint of what smelled like blood.
My shadows writhed restlessly beneath my skin. The energy they were reacting to…I knew exactly what it was.
The energy of the newly-deceased.
“This way,” Captain Voss urged, pointing us toward the tack room while he circled back, making certain we weren’t being followed.
When we stepped inside, my brother, Eamon, and Thalia were already there to greet us. We waited for Voss to give the all clear, then we secured the room and made our way toward the entrance to the hidden annex, which was located behind a false wall disguised as shelving for bridles and saddles.
We paused before this false wall, exchanging few words at first. I was thoroughly confused and growing more anxious by the second when Thalia cleared her throat and asked, “Have you eaten today?”
“…What?”
“Because this might turn your stomach. Fair warning.”
Before I could ask any more questions, Bastian opened the wall to the annex.
Inside were two dead bodies sprawled out on tattered blankets, both of them young men with pale skin already mottled with the first signs of decay. The stench of death hung heavy in the confined space.
“Look at their necks,” my brother instructed.
Wrinkling my nose, I stepped closer and did as he asked, as did Zayn.
Both men had matching brands burned into the skin just below their jawlines—circles with thorn-wrapped swords cutting diagonally through their centers. Faint but unmistakable marks.
“…Fuck,” said Zayn.
“Order members,” I breathed. “Here?”
“They were killed in Tarnath, to be more specific,” Captain Voss said, and my heart clenched with fear for that royal city and the people within it.
“A group of my patrolling soldiers found them in an alley near the eastern district just before dawn. They seemed suspicious, and turned violent when questioned—violence that led to, well, this.”
Bastian pulled the wall partially closed. It blocked some of the stench, but did little to stifle my magic and its interest in the dead energy drifting off the bodies.
“We have two thoughts,” my brother said. “Either they’re here for Aleks, if he truly is a wayward weapon of theirs… Or they’re here because they know we have two pieces of Lorien’s soul in our possession—that we are dangerously close to having both Vaeloran souls in one place, for better or worse.”
“Or for both reasons,” Thalia said grimly.
She shook her head, clearly biting back several violent, choice words about that organization that had killed her father.
“This shouldn’t have caught us by surprise.
We already suspected that the Order is as tangled into all of our affairs as it’s possible to be. ”
“Yes…” Eamon agreed slowly. “But most of their operations have been centered in the Above for so long, with some minor movements in Nerithys. All evidence suggests that this supposed ‘new world order’ that they’re trying to bring about would be in Soltaris, not here.”
“Because they assumed this realm was finished,” added Bastian. “And they left it for dead.”
Zayn huffed out a humorless laugh. “Well, the bastards assumed wrong, didn’t they? They’ll regret underestimating this realm.”
“I wish they had continued to underestimate us,” Thalia mumbled.
My brother frowned. “The questions I have now are: How long have they been operating in Noctaris? How many? And how deeply have they infiltrated and influenced this palace and the political happenings of our kingdoms?”