Chapter 5
Maelsar and Lyriasthe sat on the back of a wagon, passing a flask back and forth. Purple dotted Lyriasthe’s lower lip as she finished her swig and held it out to me. “You look like you could use this.”
I accepted the wine and drank three gulps. The burn from the alcohol wasn’t enough to wash away the taste of my mate’s confession. The darkness swirling in him, like clouds gathering for a thunderstorm.
“How is he?” Maelsar asked quietly when I came up for air.
“Bad,” I whispered, hand pressing into the center of my chest where my magic—and our bond—rested. “He’s spiraling.”
Maelsar cursed under his breath. “I’ll go to him.”
“I don’t think that’s wise,” I said, voice stronger, steadier now. I’d scarcely eaten in over a day, and the alcohol swam in my veins. With a sigh, I shuffled myself onto the wood beside the Elessarum female.
Maelsar hopped down anyway. “I’ve talked him out of the darkness before.”
I didn’t protest again as he strode into the dusk.
“He told me what happened to Vaeron. About the bronze thread,” Lyriasthe commented, shuffling so we faced each other, sympathy dancing in her eyes.
Like we were friends. Like we were supposed to trust each other.
But I had to know if she’d lied to me too. “Did you know about the virelthorn?”
“Of course. I gave it to you every day so you wouldn’t See,” she replied, brows dipping like the question made no sense to her.
“Except I had a vision during the trial by light.”
Purple sprayed from Lyriasthe’s lips, and she choked on a cough. “What?”
That reaction alone had me lowering my guard. “The Issaraeth must have been handing you something other than virelthorn to give me.”
Her sky-blue eyes went wide. “Sylaira, if I had known…I swear it looked exactly like the herb. If I had suspected anything, I would have confronted him.” She shook her head, slamming the cork back in the flask. “I am so sorry. I know how much you didn’t want to use your gift.”
My mind flashed back to the day Heraphia had burned out and died power sharing with Iaoth. She hadn’t been able to convey what she’d Seen. The Korona had been furious that she hadn’t been able to snatch the memory from Heraphia’s mind.
Yet the Goddess had offered me the same prophecy—I knew it in my bones.
But one issue clamored for attention among all the death and destruction and decay.
Why had She shown me the end of the Angels? Weren’t we Her creations? Why would She want us all dead?
All the questions bloomed a headache at the base of my skull. If Heraphia were here, we’d talk for hours until the tangles had loosened and a path appeared through the fog. But I had no one other than Lyriasthe now. “Can you swear to keep something from Maelsar?”
“Of course,” she replied. And I had no doubt that she meant it.
I blew out a long breath as I told her the truth I’d given to no one else. “I lied to everyone after the trial. I told them I Saw a path to victory but…” I trailed off, nerves knotting in my belly. Because what if the one person I had left looked at me like I was vile after she knew?
“Go on,” she encouraged, the words gentle.
I swallowed, the motion scraping my throat. “I Saw us falling.”
“Fuck,” she swore, snatching for the wine again. “I need another drink.”
I studied her intently, wondering if her reaction was borne of fear or if she was preparing for how she’d admonish me.
“That couldn’t have been easy to watch,” she said once she’d taken her fill.
And the tension in my shoulders loosened. “Give it here,” I said, gesturing for the flask. The taste—berries and peppers—grounded me against the darkness edging in. “It was so horrible.”
“Do you want me to find you more? Of the real stuff?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“No,” I replied.
Her brows shot up her forehead. “What? Why?”
A heavy sigh deflated my chest. “I think there’s a way to ensure peace between our realms without extermination of either of our races.”
As a member of the pacifist group, Lyriasthe already believed the Demons were no different from us. That they weren’t evil incarnate. That their worship of different Gods didn’t position them as our enemy.
“How? When your vision said otherwise?” she asked me.
“I’m still trying to work it out,” I admitted. “But I could use your help to do so.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to dispel them before they could fall. “Heraphia and I had the start of a plan, but now…”
“It would be my honor. I know I can never take her place, but I do consider you a friend, Sylaira,” she said, reaching forward and giving my arm a squeeze.
“Thank you,” I choked out around the thickness in my throat. “And I want to free the Seers. They don’t deserve to suffer under the tyranny of Iaoth any longer. Or witness the violence of war.”
Sacrifice. Sacrifice. Sacrifice.
The word pealed in my head, just as it had in the real vision I’d had of the end of the war. And again in my dreamlike confrontation with our Radiant Mother.
The price of peace was death. I understood that now, even if I didn’t like it. Elessarum beliefs would no longer serve me. Not with what I had to do.
Not if I wanted to unleash a storm on this realm and wash away all hate. All people who dared hurt others for their own twisted notions.
“We will find a way,” Lyriasthe swore.
I lifted my chin, rolling my shoulders back. “But I will not stain my own hands. I am no soldier, nor do I want to be.”
Lyriasthe nodded. “Those Sightkeepers’ deaths still weigh on me. Even though it was Maelsar and Vaeron who put them on the brink of death, the one swipe of the dagger for each of them will haunt me the rest of my days.”
“Life is precious,” I murmured.
“Nature is sacred,” she replied.
“We go in peace,” I said, conviction rising behind my ribs.
“Always in peace.”
So long as we remembered that, we would make it out of this alive. Though the creed didn’t land like it used to. It was different now that I was actively planning for violence.
Maelsar returned then, shoulders tense and teeth set on edge. Behind him, two white-clad soldiers followed. I blinked as their forms came into view. Not soldiers—servants. Ones I recognized from the Divine Atrium.
Lyriasthe ducked her head, curtaining her face with her creamy hair.
Maelsar scowled at the two as they settled off to his right. “Sylaira, allow me to introduce you to your new keepers. This is Nymirae,” he gestured to the female, “and this is Althirion.”
Althirion dipped his head in greeting. “Herra R?viel, I will be your primary scribe. Nymirae carries everything you need to open yourself to the blessings from our Radiant Mother.”
She pulled out a sack, opening it to reveal jars of herbs, stones, and other objects the dusk concealed. “The Korona instructed us to set aside an hour a day for you to See. We figured the time between stopping for camp and dinner would be easiest.”
My nose wrinkled. Iaoth and Stadiel’s warnings about being watched, about how our movements and actions would be reported on, returned. I’d been so caught up in how they’d tricked the Issaraeth that I’d forgotten the extent of the cage they’d placed us in.
“Given that the dinner hour is nearly upon us, and we’ve had a long day, I think we can wait until tomorrow to begin, don’t you think?” I gritted out. Not to mention that I was half-drunk and still reeling from the violent darkness forced upon me a day before.
Suspicion sharpened Nymirae’s sapphire irises. The color placed her lower on the magic hierarchy, but the Korona’s authority was all the power she needed. “We will have to report this lapse.”
I wanted to scream. Maelsar cut me a warning look.
“Since you are supposed to take care of my every need, find me a quiet place and some food. The next prophecy will not come if my belly is focused on sustenance.”
Both dipped into bows. “As you wish, Herra R?viel.”
I winced at the title. With how strained everything was with my mate, I didn’t want the reminder of who I was to him and to everyone else now.
A symbol. A Herra.
Reluctantly, I slid off the lip of the wagon. There had to be some way to sway them away from what the Korona wanted. I needed to find the right leverage to slip free of these Goddess damn silver bars.
Maelsar caught my arm for the briefest of moments, leaning in to whisper into my ear. “I’ll find you and watch from a distance. If you do See anything, don’t tell them.”
“I know,” I hissed back, shrugging him off and following my new keepers. I wasn’t sure if I would whisper while in a vision now, revealing what the Goddess was offering me. No one deserved to know. No one would wield that weapon but me.
I would not be manipulated again.
They wanted me to See? Fine. I’d fucking See. But it was going to be on my terms and for my goals.
“Here should be good enough,” I said, sweeping out a hand to indicate a tangle of gnarled roots. They twisted outward, forming a cocooned half-circle.
Althirion snapped out a blanket, and I sat on it, back against the bark. Nymirae unrolled her bag, using a torch to highlight the array of offerings.
“Food?” The word came out like a command. But fuck them. If they were so concerned with forcing me to See, they could take care of my every need. I’d make the process as miserable for them as it would be for me.
“I’ll return with some shortly,” Nymirae said. “In the meantime, find objects that will aid in your power.”
Nostrils flaring, I forced myself to drag in a slow breath as she departed, leaving me alone with Althirion. He settled off to the side, a board and parchment at the ready. As if intention alone was enough to fall into the future.
But isn’t it?
I’d never wielded my power willfully. I didn’t know what the icy blue shade of my irises afforded me with my Sight. Here I was, the most powerful Seer in centuries, and I was clueless how to tap into the future I desperately needed to know.
Better late than never to learn.
Athirion’s ocean-blue eyes tracked my movements as I spotted Heraphia’s aquamarine stone and snatched it into my lap. Fury flashed in my veins, and I dug my palm into a sharp edge, trying to ground myself.
Of course, the Korona had included this in the set. An extra reminder of what she’d done to me and what I had to do for her.
It was a good thing I planned on her dying as the gleaming cornerstone to the new order I was determined to build.
Nymirae returned with salted fish and hard bread for the three of us. We ate together in silence. Because we weren’t fucking friends sharing a meal and I refused to acknowledge them past the services they could offer me.
Dusting off my hands—pointedly in the direction of Althirion, scattering crumbs over the blanket and beside him—I settled back against the bark and closed my eyes.
Wood smoke filled my nostrils from the torch planted in the ground a few feet away. Overhead, an owl hooted. Wind ghosted through the canopies, rustling the leaves. Camp sounds drifted in next, distant and fuzzy.
And nothing trickled down my bond.
My brows dipped as I focused on the magic well in the center of my chest. The Issaraeth lingered there, rotten, insidious vines around the source of my power. Yet he was unreachable, like the bottom of the vast lakes in the south.
For once, I wished I could peer into the past instead of the future and witness every horrible act done by his father. So maybe, just maybe, I could understand him better. I’d shared more of myself than he ever had, his secrets so tightly locked I wasn’t sure even he knew where the key was.
As I tried to open my mind to my Sight, I only delved deeper into the flood of my feelings for him.
How he’d lied to me, time and time again.
How we were supposed to be the change.
How his magic was bound in bronze and freeing it would only place us in danger.
If tonight’s surveillance was any indication, the moment he used it again, the crown would know.
No vision came, but exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. I opened my eyes, finding my keepers both half-dozing. After all, we’d been awake for over a day and expended energy on the endless ride north.
When I rose, they straightened in a poor performance of alertness. Like they weren’t as tired as I was.
“I think that was sufficient, don’t you?” I sneered, pocketing the aquamarine and striding forward. “Let’s start earlier tomorrow so you don’t fall asleep and miss something I might See.”
If they replied, I didn’t hear.
Maelsar emerged from the darkness, a specter dressed in dark gray. “This way. You can sleep with Lyriasthe tonight.”
Because my mate was in no state to see me. Not that I wanted to rest beside him either.
As much as I pitied him, I still hurt too.
And I wasn’t sure if there would even be a path forward for us. If it was possible to mend the fracture he’d created.
Yet when I drifted off to sleep, I only dreamed of dancing with him in the pale moonlight.