3. Ruen
Chapter 3
Ruen
K iera’s face is a shadow of paleness. In the past week, the crescents beneath her eyes have grown darker, longer. Her body is thinner than it had been days ago as if she’s wasting away with each passing hour.
Caedmon is dead.
I close my eyes, shutting out the image of Kiera on the stone floor of our living quarters, eyes wide and unseeing, hair a tangled mess around her face, and the slightest hint of red rimming one nostril. A bloody nose none of us had even scented and proof of her claim—Tryphone's attempt to get into her head and her subsequent reprisal earning that horrible knowledge.
Caedmon is dead.
Spoken in a hoarse near whisper, those three words have turned the world upside down. Yes, I've known Gods could be killed—and more so after Caedmon's admission to the Gods' lack of actual Godhood—but not Caedmon. In my mind, he has always been and would, beyond my own time and death, continue to be. Caedmon was supposed to be a fixture of the world. Now ... I don't know what the fuck he is. Dead. Gone. A God in the wrong world or not.
"They're going to call us sometime today." Theos' words have me reopening my eyes and focusing on the room once more instead of the riot of emotions buried in my head and chest.
The mortal—Regis—begins to slide back the covers of Kalix's bed and get up. No one moves to help him even though as his feet land on the hard floor, he wobbles slightly before righting himself. "I cannot be here," he states. "I should go while everyone is occupied with the Gods."
"That's a good idea," I agree. "No one can know you were ever here."
Regis nods to me. "Do you still have my clothes?"
Theos answers him. "They were too ruined and had to be thrown out," he says before striding across the room to an armoire.
I glance at Kalix to see how he'll take Theos giving over his clothes to a mortal, but he's not even watching the man. His eyes are focused purely on Kiera. Glancing between the two of them, I dimly realize that this was bound to pose issues. Kiera hasn't just been with one of us, and any infighting right now will surely result in one of our deaths if not all of ours.
Quelling the vicious, demanding beast inside, I turn to face him and make short work of the space between us. "Are you going to be a problem?" I demand, lowering my voice until I'm sure only he and I can hear my words.
As Theos pulls out clothes for the mortal, Kalix's green eyes flick up to meet mine. "Problem?" he repeats, tilting his head. "Why would I be a problem?" He arches a brow and smirks as if he can read my mind. Then again, it doesn't take a genius to know what I'm thinking. Now that the week of reprieve is over from the Gods' announcement and the impending trials we're about to embark on hover just beyond the door, he must know that I worry for the sanctity of our dynamic. "You're the possessive one of the three of us," he concludes.
"No fighting," I snap, ignoring his final words. "Promise me. No matter what happens—until we're through this, until whatever the Gods have planned for us has come to an end—you will not lose it on us or our allies."
"We have allies?"
" Promise. "
Kalix lowers the knife to his side and frowns. "I don't care if you fuck her," he snaps, though thankfully he still keeps his voice low enough for no one else in the room to hear.
"Then why won't you promise not to cause issues?" I demand.
"Because I don't need to." Kalix bares his teeth at me, the twin incisors of his canines lengthening as he hisses at me. "You are not my master, Ruen. You are my brother. Just because I have followed you before does not make you my lord and king. I respect your ability and your intelligence—after all, you're smart enough not to get in my way when I want something."
"You want her." It's a statement, not a question.
"I have her," he replies. "She is mine."
I'm already shaking my head. "You cannot own a person," I tell him. One good thing the Gods had done for this world when they'd come hundreds of years ago was ban that horrid practice. "Even if you could, though," I continue, glancing back to ensure that the others are suitably occupied, "Kiera is not someone who'd allow it."
"She doesn't need to allow it for it to be true," Kalix grits out. His pupils grow slitted and his fangs don't recede, but I don't give a fuck if he's getting pissed off. This needs to be addressed, and though I know it should have been well before now, we're almost out of time. "Just as you are mine, she is also mine. That's why I don't give a shit if you fuck her. My things may play as they wish together provided that they do not go beyond those boundaries."
I blink and for the first time in a long time, I feel my face go slack with shock. A regular occurrence when I'd first met my brother, I'd honestly thought he and I had both grown past the point of surprising one another. Kalix's fangs retract back into his gums, and he presses his tongue against the tip of one now much duller point. Then he stands up, forcing me to step back.
"Any other demands, Brother?" he asks.
Frowning, I continue to stare at him. Kalix, amongst all of the other Mortal Gods I've known, has always been a bit separate. 'Departed of his moral faculties' as one instructor had once said. Yet, still, over the years we've known one another, I haven't felt remotely fearful of him or concerned with my safety in his presence. This would explain why. He thinks unlike others. People are not people in his mind, but possessions to be had and owned and cared for.
That is what Kiera is to him and, apparently, Theos and I. We are Kalix's and as such, he will slaughter whole armies before he allows harm to befall us. I don't know how Kiera managed to crawl so deep into him so fast, but I'm grateful for it now. In the coming days, we will need a man like Kalix. Someone unafraid to spill blood, someone the enemy may fear, someone ... cruel.
"No," I finally say, stepping to the side to allow him to pass. He nods at me before striding across the room and leaving through the door, not bothering to look at anyone else as he goes.
When next I look up, Regis is behind a partition, his shadow confirming that he's changing and getting ready for his departure. Kiera is sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes still just as hollow as she stares at the floor, and Theos is standing, stone-faced, with his arms crossed over his chest in the center of the space.
"Is he going to be okay?" Theos asks, tipping his head back to the way that Kalix had left.
"Yes." I glance at the door. "I believe so."
The sound of metal-on-metal echoes around the partition as Regis appears at the side, sliding a leather belt through the loops of his new trousers with a frown. "What is in these..." He reaches into the pockets and withdraws a pair of star-like blades and a dagger of pure ebony. Brimstone.
Theos winces. "Sorry about that," he releases his arms and jumps forward, taking the weapons from the mortal. "Kalix tends to forget to remove them."
Blinking, Regis stares at the star blades and dagger for a moment longer before shaking his head and finishing the act of dressing. He gathers up the longer strands of his dreaded locks and ties them quickly at the base of his neck with another string of leather that'd been locked on his wrist.
"I need to try and find Ophelia," he announces.
That brings Kiera's head up. "Do you think she's still alive?" she asks.
Regis snorts. "Ophelia has lived in the Underworld nearly all of her life. Carcel might be her son, but he wasn't one of her top assassins. He's greedy and we've already concluded that he has to be working with a God." The reminder of the new enemy creates a dull throb between my eyes.
The Gods have been at war with us for eons, and we are just now realizing how cornered they have us. We haven't even begun to discuss our biggest asset and our biggest problem. The other Mortal Gods. Scrubbing a hand down my face as if that will somehow erase the headache and the worries that might be pointless if the Gods decide to kill us all, I refocus my attention on the room.
"It will be good to have someone on the outside who can communicate," I state. "Your crow knows Kiera's scent and can find her anywhere, yes?"
Regis nods, but it's Kiera who speaks next. "Do you think they'll allow us to have the same freedoms as you had here at Riviere versus at Ortus?"
"Numbers," I hear myself say as I consider her question. Yes, we are all birds in a cage, but there are more birds than there are handlers. "They'll want to keep the masses of Mortal Gods calm, so yes, I think they'll have to maintain at least a semblance of normalcy at Ortus Academy."
The tightness in her shoulders eases slightly. "We were told that we would be called back to the arena at week's end," Theos says. "But they didn't say anything about packing and luggage. How are they going to get hundreds of students across Anatol? We're at the top of the continent."
"They're Gods," Regis says with a shrug. "They can do anything."
Anything? No, most certainly not. "They are killable," Kiera snaps as if she heard my thoughts. Standing and facing her friend, she scowls. "If you have to keep up the facade in public, fine, but not here. Don't treat them like Gods when they're nothing but murderers. I told you what I saw, Regis—after the others—I told you?—"
"I know." Regis' voice is quiet, his head tilted down. In respect or shame? I'm not sure. Silence stretches between them, and after a moment longer, I step towards Kiera and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I understand how you feel," I say quietly. "Your friend understands what's happening here, too, but the lessons of a lifetime can't be erased in a week, sweetheart. Give it time. Let's talk about what we're going to do moving forward."
Kiera glances up at me, her storm-cloud eyes darker than normal. "You're right." Her acquiescence is a balm to my battered heart. She faces Regis again and slips out from under my hand, going to him and wrapping him in a hug. "I'm sorry," she tells him. "I'm just wound tight."
"We all are," he agrees, hugging her back. I dislike the intimacy between the mortal and Kiera, but I keep my jaw tight and my mouth shut as I wait for it to end. When it does, I take the first opportunity to start making plans.
"Since Ortus is an island, the only way we'll be getting information is through those birds of yours," I say. "We don't know what we'll be walking into guard wise. There's very little information on the original Mortal Gods Academy."
"I'll charter something in the city and start traveling," Regis states. "I might even arrive ahead of you since I'm only one person and you'll be traveling with the entire Academy."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Theos resumes his position with his feet shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his chest. "The Gods made it sound like we'd be in Ortus soon. I think they really do have a way to get us there all at once."
"A spell?" I guess.
His gold eyes meet mine. "It's likely."
"Well, damn." Regis curses. "I was hoping I'd be able to search for Ophelia along the way."
"Oh, you'll definitely have time for that," I tell him. "I think it's best if you get into contact with as many trusted members of the Underworld as possible at this point. If you find Ophelia, tell her about," I pause, my mouth going dry around the name, but I force it out anyway, "Caedmon."
Regis' brow creases, but he nods his understanding and agreement.
"I honestly don't remember much of the announcement," Kiera confesses. She presses two fingers to a temple and grimaces as if the phantom sensation of Tryphone attempting to claw his way into her mind remains behind like an old scar that will never heal. The rage I feel towards the man, the imposter, is surprising. I always thought Kalix to be the most unhinged of us, yet I find myself completely and utterly open to the idea of killing the God King myself. "All I can recall is the pain in my head and those images..."
Theos unfolds his arms and moves closer to her. The softness of his features as he pulls Kiera against his side and keeps one arm wrapped around her protectively is another indication that Kalix is not the only one I need to talk with privately.
"They gave us a week," Theos explains, "which is now over. They said they'd call us to the arena."
"Yes, I know that." Kiera rolls her shoulders back. "But why are they taking us to Ortus? What reason did they give the others?"
"The Spring Equinox." The answer is out of my mouth before I realize I've spoken. All eyes fall back on me. Blowing out a long breath, I continue. "The Gods announced that this year is the official third-century anniversary of their arrival in Anatol. They claim that they are hosting a special Spring Equinox ceremony to celebrate bringing the two worlds together by bringing all of their children together in one place. There will be events at Ortus Academy that we're expected to participate in."
"The Academies have never met in one location before," Theos says. "It's unheard of."
"That's what bothers me." Shoving a lock of silver hair off her shoulder, Kiera chews on her bottom lip. "The Gods are threatened by their offspring—they fear us and yet they need to use us to make themselves immortal. Why would they bring us all together in one place? We could overpower them with so many extra Mortal Gods."
"Maybe they have to bring you together?" Regis suggests. When everyone glances his way, he holds up both hands palms out. "What if—and yes, I know this is probably insane, but?—"
"The Gods are insane," I point out mildly. "There's nothing you could suggest that would make them worse."
Theos snorts. "Doubt that,” he mutters. I shoot a dark look at him before Regis continues.
"What if they need to have you all together in order to complete some sort of spell?" Regis rakes a hand up into his hairline, his fingers sliding flatly over the ridges of his dreads. "There are just as many Gods as there are Mortal Gods and if they want to keep up the facade of their immortality for all of them, wouldn't they need all of their children to perform the ceremony?"
"They aren't planning on letting any of us live, are they?" Despite the fact that those words are phrased as a question, it's clear from Theos' horrified tone that they are anything but. They're a realization.
I close my eyes and realize that I was very wrong. It can get worse. So fucking much worse. I shouldn't be surprised anymore by the lengths Azai will go to in order to maintain his status. Somehow, though, I'd always wondered if, deep down, there was ever even a kernel of actual paternal affection or inclination. No. Azai will go after what he wants as will the rest of his brethren. That's just the way they are.
Obsessive. Cruel. Greedy. Monsters.
"Okay, so if we work under the idea that they're gathering all of the Mortal Gods in one place to perform some sort of ceremony then what does that change?" Kiera asks, her eyes moving over the three of us—first Regis, then Theos, and finally me.
"Change?" I tilt my head to the side and feel my brow crease.
"We're still being forced to go and it's far too late to try and escape their notice or the Academy," she comments.
Turning away from me, from the group, she crosses to the window and places her hands on her hips. Her head lowers as she turns back and repeats the path, pacing out her thoughts as she speaks. I find myself smiling as I picture her doing that in my room, her long hair loose like it is right now and her body flushed from recent sex. Then she talks and dispels the image with the reminder of what I truly should be focusing on.
"Even if they are planning on killing us, we're frogs caught in a cauldron," she says.
"What?" Regis looks at her like she's crazy. "Frogs?"
Kiera stops in front of us once more and lifts her head, delivering an exasperated huff at him as she does so. “My father used to tell me that a frog that jumps into a boiling pot will jump out to save itself, but if you put the frog in the pot and slowly heat the fire under it, the frog will stay in the water—not knowing that it's dying." She gestures between our two bodies and then Theos'. "That's what's happening here."
"We're ... boiling?" Theos asks, dumbfounded.
"Not literally," she practically growls. Her hands turn into anchors on her hips, her fingers clenching so tight on her own body that her knuckles pale further. "The moral of the story is that we tend to accept things when they are introduced to us slowly—even if they're horrible. The Gods have always put us in Academies—well, most of us," she amends. "Mortal Gods are accustomed to being under their command and being given little freedoms. They see how mortals are treated and think they have it good."
"They don't?" Regis' comment earns him a withering glare, not just from Kiera, but from both Theos and me. He raises his hands again. "Alright, alright, you don't. Sorry!"
"I'm saying ," Kiera grits out through clenched teeth as if silently tempting the rest of us to interrupt her again at our own peril, "that because the rest of the Mortal Gods are used to being under the Gods' rule and doing whatever they say that they won't recognize that they're marching towards their own deaths even if the evidence is right in front of them. They will fight the truth because they don't want to disturb the comfort they currently have." She looks to the floor, her hands clenching into fists as she takes a moment before she continues. "And we can't erase the fact that the Gods are our sires. They are our parents, even if they've never acted like it before. If anything, the blood ties we have with them will make it all the more difficult to understand or even believe that they're capable of such a taboo."
"That's ... disturbing," Theos mutters. Ice invades my chest as I recognize the truth in Kiera's words. Yes, it is disturbing, but not untruthful. "Surely," Theos says, looking between the group, "most of them will see the truth if we tell them, though. They can't be that blind."
"They can," I hear myself say, "and they are." Kiera's sharp gaze meets mine. "Manipulation can often feel like love and that's what children want from their parents." Love.
Kiera's lips pinch tight and she nods my way. "He's right," she confirms. "All children want to be loved by their sires, but the Gods want something more from us. They need us and they will use any means at their disposal to get it. They haven't tried to kill us all yet and there has to be a reason for that."
A thought occurs to me. "Does Tryphone know what you did?" I ask. I should have asked immediately following the attack on her mind at the arena. I silently curse my short-sightedness.
Kiera frowns, her bow-shaped lips curling down. "I don't think so." She doesn't sound too sure.
It's Theos who cuts in. "He can't know," he says, diverting all eyes back to him. "If he knew that Kiera was aware of what the Gods have been doing, he would have sent someone after her, surely." He gestures to Kiera and then to me. "Wouldn't he?" he prompts. "Tryphone isn't just the God King because he's powerful, he's intelligent and he has the God Council on his side."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Kiera murmurs absently.
I step closer to her. "Why do you say that?"
Her head lifts and she blinks as if realizing the nearness of our bodies. It takes a moment for her to respond. "Caedmon was on the God Council and he was obviously not in league with Tryphone. He was working against him. I don't like the Gods. They've done too many things to be good to me, but ... maybe they're not all evil. It would be reckless to not consider that other Divine Beings might not agree with Tryphone's rule or what he's doing. Generalizing them all as evil..." She grimaces. "It's hard to admit that any of them could be ignorant or to forgive them even if they are. Ignorance is not an excuse, but not all who benefit from evil are evil themselves. Sometimes, they're just complicit. Weak ."
"I don't know what's worse," Regis mutters. "Doing it all knowingly or being so self-absorbed that they don't consider everyone they hurt by being so fucking greedy."
Though I'm still unsure of the mortal, I have to admit that his words reflect my own thoughts.
"Regardless," Kiera says, "there are bound to be Divine Beings not working with the God King. They may not help us even if we find them and inform them of the situation, but ... I wouldn't go so far as to say that the entirety of the God Council is on Tryphone's side. Caedmon wasn't and he can't be the only one."
"We would need to be careful about approaching any of them," I tell her. "I will say that I believe Azai is on the God King's side. He won't be of help."
"That's for damn sure," Theos agrees. "The bastard is likely working on his behalf and has been for years."
It would make sense, I silently acknowledge. After all, what other use would he have for siring three sons so close together? No doubt, he thought he could do a better job in raising us to be more powerful than the others before shipping us off to the Academy. He was right. My brothers and I are powerful in our own right. If I were Azai, I'd fear my own creations, but knowing the male as I do, I suspect he feels no concern. Azai is far too self-absorbed to consider that his sons might have enough power to kill him.
Distantly the sound of the Academy's bell tolls. The four of us turn towards the window as it shakes under the brunt of the audible calling. "It's time to go," I announce.
Regis nods, turning to Kiera. "I'll find Ophelia," he promises, "and I'll send a crow to you at Ortus when I do."
She reaches for him, grabbing his arm as she fixes a searing look on his face. "Be careful," she orders.
The wry grin he offers in return is all charm and it makes my upper lip curl back as the urge to pound his face into the hard stone wall at his back rushes forward. "I will," he assures her before disappearing out the door.
"Come on," I say, stepping closer to her side even as her eyes remain locked on the closing door. "We should gather our bags and meet everyone else at the arena."
Her eyes lift to mine. "Kalix?"
"He'll meet us there," I assure her. A beat passes and then another. Finally, on the third, she gives a sharp jerk of her head in acknowledgment.
Together, Theos and Kiera move towards the exit, each of them moving out onto the balcony towards the stairs with me at their backs. I watch them go, forcing my steps to move slowly and deliberately.
I consider Azai's ultimatum—to give him information on Kiera or suffer the consequences. His deadline has passed, but obviously something has changed his mind, otherwise he would have acted before now. As I reach the end of the staircase, I look towards the large carved window of our shared quarters. Clouds hover in the near sky, a massive blanket over the Academy. If nature could imply the future, I'd say that it's warning us all to be wary of what may come.
Caedmon is dead. Kiera's words from a week prior echo in my mind for the millionth time. Is he? Though I believe her, it's still hard to imagine how a God capable of such elaborate planning, one that supposedly knows all and is the Father of Prophecy could be killed so easily.