80. Allie
Allie
We charged through the corridors, passing coffins guarded by the statues carved onto the lids. Warriors with mighty swords, elders with staffs and beards that reached their toes, a woman with a cradled newborn resting on her stomach.
They all tugged on my attention as we hurried through the marble archway. Solkar’s Rays didn’t pulse through the red, spidering veins anymore.
The sculpture of the falling star stared down at us as imposing as last time.
On its sides, Ryker’s ancestors rested in their coffins, his mother’s sculpture grasping a broadsword to her chest.
Three alcoves away, a new marble casket had been inserted, the stone still white and smelling like fresh earth.
Geryll.
His statue smiled, shield clutched in one hand, a book in the other.
My breath hitched as I kept staring at him, fighting the urge to reach out and touch his marble cheek.
Ryker held on tighter to my hand, reassuring and grounding.
The stone table in the center of the crypt lit up, the reflection of the flames licking the ceiling.
Through their shadowy dance, I noticed a statue that still lay there half-finished, its creation halted by the invasion.
The legs and one side of his torso and face had been sculpted, the rest was still a block of stone. I recognized that mighty jaw even in death.
“Vylkor,” I breathed out.
“That alcove had been reserved for Nadya,” Ryker said. “It’s his now, for all eternity.”
With that, he thundered his fist against the center of the table.
The flames grew taller as the star’s largest ray fractured.
The wall gaped open, sliding to the side with an ancient, otherworldly groan.
Metallic, icy air filled the room, cooling my parched skin.
A chill raced down my spine as we approached the opening, hands intertwined, hearts beating fast.
The same awestruck feeling as before took hold of me. But, this time, there was no hum.
No crystallized heartbeat.
“Are you ready?” Ryker asked.
No. “Yes.”
He huffed a shaky laugh. “I can tell when you’re lying now.”
“It’s a good thing I don’t lie often, then.” I shook my shoulders to release the tension. It only increased the strain. “Let’s go.”
Together, we stepped into the darkness.
Only it wasn’t as silent as I’d feared.
Down below, at the base of the double stairs which had been carved right out of the menacing rock surrounding us, was Solkar’s Heart, the last remains of the fallen star which had created the crater.
It still had light, though, purple and otherworldly.
That strange hum barely clung to it.
Everything was restrained, as if the Heart didn’t want to share any of its life with us anymore.
The clatter and children’s wails grew louder up above.
The masked attackers hadn’t breached the crypt yet.
But they would soon.
Both of us unsure, Ryker and I raced down the stairs, only stopping once we reached the fallen star.
Its glow blistered and rattled, hissing at us in greeting.
For a moment, it felt like an angry cat, turning its back to us to be left alone.
“We’re not welcome here,” I whispered.
“It tried to drown Dax and almost killed you in an avalanche.” Ryker narrowed his eyes. “We’re even.”
Still holding hands, we chanced one look at the other, before pressing our free palms against the stone.
It sizzled instantly.
I gritted my teeth and summoned my own power out to greet it.
This time, the purple light didn’t mix in with the blue. I was being completely and totally ignored once more. Beside me, Ryker’s jaw ticked with frustration, the Heart not delving into his veins, either.
“We’re in danger,” I whispered.
Nothing.
No whisper.
No light engulfing me.
No pulse underneath my fingers.
“It’s your duty to help us,” Ryker said.
The words had barely left his mouth when the Heart boomed to life. No longer simmering, it exploded into a blinding light.
A sharp, grating thrum drummed into my chest.
Within it, I no longer heard cries.
I heard condemnation.
How Ryker had gone to war against the Serpents instead of fighting the Northern Clans.
How the Heart had helped me light up the entrance and tried to protect me against danger, only for me to not avenge the crater against the ones draining it.
“You didn’t let me leave,” I said, outrage burning away the hesitation.
For your protection, the hum hissed.
And now invaders were crawling all over the crater, defiling the land.
“You let them in,” Ryker said.
Revenge, for not protecting the crater.
Power always had a price.
I stared at the pulsing rock in astonishment, as it kept admonishing us for slights, like a disgruntled grandfather with a neverending list of grievances, some painful and true, most imagined.
Shame and guilt tugged at me. They almost suffocated Ryker, who’d been pulled between duty to his people and duty to the crater all this time.
We were both caught, but in different ways.
And I’d had enough of being trapped.
First by my family’s expectations.
Then in the maze on Sanctua Sirena, only to find myself confined in a coffin.
The crater hadn’t wanted to let me go, now I was stuck in its crypt, attackers clawing at it to get to us.
The crater was enormous and ancient. I was a mere mortal, a flicker of life.
But it was my life.
A life marred with so many sacrifices.
Some I regretted.
Most I didn’t.
I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, despite this crater’s otherworldly reproach, that I would keep on sacrificing to keep the world from delving into the chaos I’d witnessed tonight.
Mortals, the hum spit. Selfish mortals.
This time, it sounded strange in a different way. It reminded me of Nadya’s hisses.
“Enough,” Ryker commanded. He slid his palm further up the rock, with a gentleness at odds with his maelstrom of emotions.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeper.
The connection between us suddenly stilled as the purple light engulfed him. My chest constricted as the hum buzzed louder than Ryker’s thoughts, enveloping his mind and shutting me out.
In return, Ryker held on tighter to my hand.
My unease grew the longer our connection was fragmented, barely a whisper.
Shoulders bunched, spine contorted, his entire face seared with agony.
“Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded with the star.
“It’s not hurting me,” Ryker muttered, so low I barely heard him. “It’s the Heart’s pain I feel.”
He began to tremble, a jarring sight for a man as powerful as him.
“You’ve been poisoned, too,” he whispered. “Someone turned you against us.”
The light finally let him go.
Ryker flinched back, eyes sparking until the pupils were no longer visible, a soundless scream pulling at his lips.
Breathing heavily, he squeezed my hand reassuringly just as I was about to lose my mind with worry.
“You’re wrong.” His eyes sparked harder. “About Allie and I. We’ve protected you and your people.”
The purple light pulsed harder.
“Heart to Heart. You can see mine and you’ve shown me yours,” Ryker went on. “You witnessed every victory and misstep. You know me and I know you. This is not you. Whoever’s bleeding you has twisted everything.”
The light hummed louder, aggravated.
“We have a pact. You have protected us, yes. But I have protected you, too,” he said.
“Never took more than you wanted to give. Kept bloodshed away from you. Made sure everyone respected you and your power. Whoever’s poisoning you to be displeased with me is lying.
Weigh my heart against the ones invading and tainting the crater right now.
They are the ones who will follow once I am gone. ”
Purple light flashed underneath our feet in quick rivulets, rushing over the stairs and through the ceiling.
Searching.
I felt a scrape against my heart. Cold claws grazed it.
I shuddered at the sensation.
Solkar’s Heart burned brighter. Hotter.
My fingers begged for me to yank them back from the stone, my skin stinging.
I didn’t move.
“The ones who’ve soaked your earth with blood and poisoned your air,” he said, voice mesmerizing me. “Who will bleed you dry.”
The hum turned into a screech as the rivulets rushed back into the fallen star. I didn’t know what it had wanted to find, but whatever it was, it didn’t like it.
“My ancestors and I have served you diligently for generations. We will mend your wound,” he whispered. “I promise. But you need to help and give us a chance to do that.”
The star pulsed for a few more moments, turning incandescent.
It glowed brighter still, veins of light rushing out of it.
Then it went still, the barest pulse illuminating our palms. It finally felt like a heartbeat again, yes, but a shallow one.
“What did it say?” I asked urgently.
Ryker shook his head in disbelief. His hand fell from the rock, limp. “Nothing.”
I sucked in a stuttered breath.
No help was coming.
“I can kill at least a dozen attackers before the mist gets me,” Ryker said with quiet resignation. “If you can dispel the rest of the poison long enough, the last of the warriors–”
“No!” I cried out. “We’ll think of something else. You’re not going out there to die.”
“There’s no other way, we have–”
An uncanny groan resounded from above, shaking the ceiling. The earth ground, dislodging flecks of dust from the ancient stone.
The screech grated against my instincts, clamoring in my brain and rattling my bones.
What in Xamor’s name–
“The statues!” a shocked voice hollered from above. “They’re moving!”