31. Chapter 31 #4
I pull myself to a furious stand, then shove a finger into her mist-laden cheek as she disintegrates beneath my touch.
In truth, Solara has always subtly irritated me.
Mostly because she’s practically a mirror of my own subconscious, nitpicking everything I do.
But never in the entirety of my life, not once, has she outright angered me.
Not until this very moment. I take a step closer to her, fists clenching at my sides.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing at, Solara, but my friends are counting on me.
Tell me what that secret is so I can free the Mother of Chaos in the hopes that she might drag the gods back to Purgatory where they belong. ”
“Only you can reveal it,” Solara says as she absconds into nothingness.
“Fuck!” I smash my fist against the ground. Instantly, a bruise blanches across my knuckles. Sobbing, I curl up into a ball and pull my knees against my chest, only to realize that I’m cold… so cold. And alone… all alone. Bar the pretentious bastard who saunters into the room and goads, of course.
“This isn’t the washroom,” Sylas says, looking around. “Did you get lost?”
“Go away,” I bark at him.
He studies me in brazen silence, like I’m some rare jewel he’s just unearthed from the ground, one that he’d like to scoop into his pocket and keep forever.
Or marry. Since I guess he thinks he can marry anyone he wants.
I suppose he should get in line, considering how Augustine seems to be under the same impression.
“I see that you’ve found her,” he comments.
“I can’t do it,” I say, throwing my hands over my face. “I can’t free her. I’ve tried everything.”
He pulls a little vial from his pocket and tosses it in the air. Upon catching it, he says, “I also figured you’d say that. Which is why I’ve brought you this.”
“More wyrm piss?” I hasten to guess, peering at him between my fingers. “Fantastic.”
He studies me closely like I’m his muse, then swirls the vial’s contents around in circles. “Not wyrm shit. Demi-god cum. It will lull you into a deep slumber.”
“Why in the seven Hells would I drink that?” I gag, dropping my hands from my face.
“Do you recall the wording of the prophecy?” he asks.
“Honestly, I’ve done everything in my power to forget it.”
He swirls the vial again, this time sending bits of silver that were floating around at the bottom to flutter to the top.
“The prophecy claims that the raven shall free the Mother of Chaos in her dreams,” he explains conversationally.
“Which means that to free the Mother of Chaos, you must first be asleep. Spittlegrace is a sleeping potion. Perfectly safe in low doses.”
“And you expect for me to sleep right here, on the cold hard ground? After drinking a demi-god’s cum?” I ask.
“What do you take me for? Some kind of monster?” he asks, appearing offended.
“I would never force you to sleep on the ground.” He snaps his fingers.
And, as if on cue, four servants enter the room, carrying between them a wooden pallet stuffed with blankets.
“I wouldn’t want you to hurt your back,” he adds, “considering how you’re carrying the weight of Skaldrathia’s fate on your shoulders.
” He grabs my hand and stuffs the vial into my grasp.
“Now drink the cum like a good girl. Fall into a deep slumber. Unleash chaos upon the world.”
I stick out my tongue. “I am not drinking cum.”
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not actually cum.” He waves me off. “They just say that to make it sound cooler. It's leaf extract from some exotic plant, I think. Maybe? I hope so. After all, do you really think the gods are even capable of coming? Absolutely not.”
I roll my eyes. “You promised to reveal all the secrets regarding my magic back at the dinner table, and you failed to follow through. Why should I trust you now?”
“Hmm, must’ve escaped my mind,” he says.
“You made it seem like…” I drift off, not quite sure how to finish my thought.
“Like I had magic to begin with. That someone was withholding it from me. You said that if I drank the nasty anti-venom concoction, you’d reveal everything.
But then you didn’t. In fact, the only thing you revealed is the fact that you’re a lying sack of shit who is going to try and force my hand into an unwanted marriage. ”
He crouches down to meet me at eye level. “Perhaps you’re right,” he whispers, his bright eyes flickering. “Perhaps I am nothing but a lying sack of shit. A position that I will gladly accept if it leads to you becoming the greatest heroine who ever lived.”
I cast him a dubious look.
“I’m serious,” he adds, pulling back. “According to the prophecy, you will be the one who destroys the gods. But the only way you’ll be able to do that, is if you drink the syrupy sleeping concoction and unveil the Mother of Chaos in your dreams.”
I blow out a breath.
“Unless of course,” he adds, rubbing his chiseled jawline, “you’d rather we sit here together and wait for the queen to arrive?
” he asks. “I wonder what she’ll do to your friends after she learns you’ve confiscated her precious statue, and that you’re inches away from bringing her end to a fruition. Shall we ask her?”
“Fuck you,” I grumble, tipping the drink down my throat.
His lips curl upward.