25. Chapter 25 #2
“Staring at her isn’t going to free her,” Solara informs me quietly, her outline smudging against the wall like a haunted specter. “You must look deeper within your heart, behind all the layers of agony. Remember who you are.”
“That’s the issue, isn’t it?” I choke out.
“I don’t know who I am. Not really.” My sister side-eyes me.
I picture all the ways that I could defenestrate her straight through the window, just to be rid of her.
But she does the work for me by flickering away, her silhouette as fleeting as a drop of rain.
After she’s gone, my hope solidifies into something hefty and hollow.
A burden so difficult to offload that I nearly drop it through the floor.
Remember who you are.
What the hell is that supposed to even mean?
“Shay, are you quite sure that you’re okay?” Bella waves a flurry of fingers in my face. “You look like you’ve taken ill.”
“She always looks that way,” Maxine points out. “Pale as a ghost.”
“You know, now that you mention it, my stomach isn’t feeling all that great.” I swallow. “Maybe I’ll head to bed.”
“Unfortunately, the queen made it very clear that our attendance is mandatory at this meeting,” Lily groans. “Which is why we’re all in here, hiding. If you return to bed, Regent will find you and—”
“Perhaps next time, you’ll choose a hiding place that is a bit more discreet.
" A sickeningly sweet voice resonates from the doorway.
My heart catapults into my stomach at the familiar voice as Priestess Seraphina glides into the room, her gaze sweeping over each of us, only to pause on Lily. “Are you drinking?”
Lily looks down at the unopened bottle of champagne and then holds it out to her. “You want some?” she asks.
The priestess’s lips thin, and her eyes flicker toward me.
“I’d prefer to have a clear head during tonight’s war council.
But if you feel so obliged, then by all means, drink away.
” She motions for Lily to take a swig. A thread of suspicion weaves through Lily’s brows as she sets the bottle down on the floor with a soft clink.
“You ruin all the fun,” she gripes.
Maxine reaches for the bottle, but Lily swats her hand away.
“The fun is not ruined,” Priestess Seraphina says.
“It is simply up to my standards. Now, is everyone ready?” She glances at me again, pausing.
“I’m glad to see you’ve returned, Shay. I know the God of Dreams was very concerned over your disappearance earlier.
” With that, she takes off into the corridor, and my lips slip open in shock.
“I like Regent better than her, and that is saying something,” Maxine mutters under her breath as the four of us begrudgingly follow the priestess through the doorway.
The throne room twinkles like the inside of a crystal chandelier.
Its glass floors glisten like bottles of sparkling champagne drenched in permafrost. Its mirrored walls expose us to a network of lightning outside, which clashes over an overarching balcony that enwraps the upper part of the chamber in a halo of ice.
On that balcony, hundreds of spectators are wearing wedding rings in various ornamental designs.
They lean over the railing to get a better view of the glass dais below…
no… to get a better view of us—the four women standing before that dais, looking minuscule in comparison to the gods.
This is the nightmare I’d been envisioning before I ever stepped foot inside this castle. This is how I die.
“Your god is late,” the queen says, standing from her throne, her eyes colliding with mine.
The ripple effect of her outrage draws the collective attention of the other gods, who all turn to look at me, as though I have anything to do with Augustine’s perpetual lack of punctuality.
Sighing, I scan the dais. There’s six thrones made of glass, each featuring a carved, high back, with pieces of metal that intertwine like bent swords.
The thrones themselves are all arranged in a circular formation, with Rhaziel and Thalmos seated on either side of the queen, and an empty throne reserved for Augustine.
But that’s not all. There’s two more thrones sparkling like ice that fill up the remainder of the circle, each occupied by a god and goddess I don’t recognize.
Or do I? The woman with the scarlet red hair on the far right looks familiar.
I’ve seen her somewhere before, haven’t I?
Wait a second… Trisda’s cards. She’s the Goddess of Whispers, the one who drags mortals down to her lair beneath the tide and feasts on their corpses.
The same goddess that Trisda claimed has been resurrected from the dead.
What is she doing here?
“Sit,” the queen snaps, motioning toward the little metal chairs placed strategically between the thrones. My friends all rush up the steps, but I remain frozen in place.
“You mustn’t make the queen wait,” Priestess Seraphina murmurs from behind me, giving my back a little nudge. “Tardiness makes her irate.”
“Right.” I puff out a breath, watching as Lily sinks into the chair beside the queen, her fingers twitching with anxiety.
Meanwhile, Bella slumps into a chair next to the God of Wisdom, her face white as a ghost, and Maxine collapses beside the God of War, giving me an encouraging nod as she does.
I drop into the last remaining chair, noticing how the throne beside me is, in fact, empty.
Well, that certainly seems unfair.
If Augustine doesn’t have to be here, then why do I?
“Your clothes are atrocious,” the queen declares, her gaze lobbing between Lily, Bella, Maxine, and me. “Have you not changed since your trip to the market?”
“They have not, Your Majesty,” Priestess Seraphina politely cuts in, dipping into a deep curtsey on the step as her voice rings out across the throne room. “The maid in charge of their attire—”
“Enough.” The queen holds up her hand to silence the priestess. “We will not speak of those traitors at this meeting.”
Traitors? Are they talking about Sunshine, Amber, and Snow?
“Yes, Your Highness.” The priestess bows once more before fading into the shadows. My heart pangs with jealousy at the sight of watching her go.
“Regent? Explain yourself! Why are my pets not dressed in something more appropriate?” The queen’s shout reverberates like a squalling crow, but Regent doesn’t heed her call.
In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. Instead, silence billows around us as the queen attempts to conceal her contempt regarding the butler’s lack of response behind a crooked smile.
“Well then, I suppose I shall do it myself,” she sweetly says.
With a grand, waving gesture of her hand, she motions toward Bella, whose dirt-stained jumpsuit transforms into a gown dripping in silver flower petals that trickle down the length of her body, complimenting a sparkling necklace that drapes over the notch in her throat.
Now, it’s even more obvious when she swallows down her nerves.
Maxine’s attire is transformed next, into a blood-red gown with a leather corset, boasting razor-sharp metal accents which protrude from her shoulder pads and slip down the length of her arms. She looks like a walking weapon, which is fitting, considering her affinity for sharp chunks of metal.
I imagine with one properly placed elbow to the face, she’d kill someone.
Topping off her attire is a thick, golden band taking up residence on her head, which is decorated in the symbols of the dead.
Even more fitting. The effigies of her fallen enemies. She looks absolutely breathtaking.
Lily’s jumpsuit is swiftly replaced with her treasured lilac gown from the market, which is now back in its original form—no holes detected. Her lips curve into a relieved smile as she runs a finger through her rose-gold hair, which is now spun up in delicate curls. She looks like a princess.
They all do.
After her work is through, the queen stands, deliberately leaving me in my sweaty black jumpsuit to suffer, but not before delivering me with a feral smile.
Okay, this bitch is truly evil.
“Gods of the highest order,” she announces with arms held wide, “assembled here under my rule, I have called upon this war council to bring you news. Centuries ago, we waged a war against the dragons and won. Beneath my mighty fist, their castle fell to ruin. Their cities were toppled, and their clans were desecrated. Since then, we have built an entire empire that is unparalleled in strength.” She pauses for dramatic effect, her words seeping into my pebbled skin.
“Until today! Today, the dragons have returned from the dead. Not only have they punctured through the veil and escaped from Purgatory, but they’ve also crossed the Leviathan Sea in order to infiltrate our cities.
They’ve stolen our magic and united with a rebellion, right beneath our noses.
Their actions are a call to war, one that we must meet with cold-blooded vengeance. ”
Rebellion? Is she talking about the Valenorians?
“How exciting,” says the god on the far end, whose severe eyes are offset by a flurry of silver curls.
I fail to recognize his enigmatic half-grin, which slashes across the right side of his face like a battle wound.
The other side of his face is covered in a mask.
He looks like a god woven in magician’s robes, which are a garish display of velvet, silk, and stars.
Who the hell is that?
Beside him, the Goddess of Whispers feigns a yawn, her gown reminding me of volcanic glass. She looks both ethereal and violent as she leans back in her throne, her curtain of scarlet hair and mysterious eyes making the hair on my arms stand on end.
Rhaziel cracks his knuckles and booms out, “I would like for them to leave.” He motions toward the newcomers and folds his arms over his chest.
Ah, it seems like we’re on the same page for once.