Chapter Nine #2
“Gods damn it, Cyran,” I whisper fiercely, punching at the top of his armored foot. “Do not be seen!”
“What are you doing, Lady Ves?” he asks rather flatly.
Wide-eyed with the terror of being noticed, I lift my face, placing a finger against my lips. I point in the direction of Lilith and Eve and—
“Stop!” Eve snaps the command in a sharp shout and I freeze, every muscle in my body taking on an arctic grip.
Cyran’s attention snaps toward the main entry doors, his jaw and fists setting tight.
“Where was your concern months ago?” The question carries bitter hostility.
“Eve, it would be the right thing to do,” Lilith argues, calling out the words. “It’s how we honor our de—”
“I’m not Ves!” Eve shouts, her voice sounding closer to the door than it had moments ago. “You don’t get to come into my life and tell me how to honor tradition.”
“That’s not—I didn’t—” Lilith sighs in defeat. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you are,” Eve says coldly.
Light brightens the features on Cyran’s face as I stare up at him, and a cool breeze sweeps through, sending a slight shiver along my arms. The light lessens and the breeze dies before the chill can settle into my skin.
Eve’s left.
Through the main doors.
And instead of rising, I remain crouched, contending with my concern.
Tension between the two fae is nothing new—their perspectives tend to clash on nearly everything. Eve is too pragmatic for Lilith’s carefree and aloof nature. At the same time, Lilith is too tradition bound and Eve smites most expectations.
But whatever this is, it doesn’t feel like a simple disagreement.
This feels personal.
“Are you alright, Lady Lilith?” Cyran calls over the banister.
“Yes, Cyran, thank you,” she grants, her usual musical voice lacking its typical song. “I overstepped, I see that now.”
“You can stand now, Lady Ves,” Cyran says, peering down at me.
“Ves?” Lilith’s surprise and confusion is clear.
I’m going to knock this damn fae over the railing and watch him careen face-first down three stories.
With a sigh, I reluctantly pull myself to my feet and offer Lilith a hesitant smile. Lilith, like always, stands dressed to perfection.
Donning a forest green silk dress, her hair spills over her cloaked shoulders in soft waves. In her hands lies a wildflower bouquet, fresh cut it seems, clutched at her waist.
She looks like a bride.
One who belongs in a forest with mossy trees filled with trilling songbirds and wandering deer.
“You might want to find Eve,” Lilith says as I meet her saddened stare. “She may not want to be alone today.”
Confused, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“It’s Cora’s birthday,” she answers, a soft, weak smile appearing on her face. She lifts the bouquet in her hands. “I got these thinking Eve planned to visit the crypt.”
My lungs set themselves on fire, depriving me of air as my heart seizes.
“I’ll be twenty-five a few days before.” Cora’s soft voice emerges from the darkened corners of my mind.
A few days before the autumn equinox.
Is that today?
“Where did she go?” I breathe the question, my feet flying down the stairs.
Lilith stammers.
Snatching the bouquet as I rush by, Lilith gives a startled shriek.
“Lady Ves!” Cyran calls after me.
“Find me later, Cyran!” I shout as the guards at the door swing them open.
The bright light of the morning sun blinds me as I streak outside. And again, the chill breeze kisses my skin. I should have snagged Lilith’s cloak too. Too late now.
Daring to take the stairs two at a time as my eyes adjust, I spring into the courtyard and pause.
Eve is nowhere to be found.
She can’t ferry…
She couldn’t have gotten far.
A flock of pigeons burst through a missing window of the Moon Temple—startled by something inside.
My eyes narrow.
Would she…?
Sprinting across the courtyard, my pace slows once again as I ascend the temple stairs. Both mourning and strangeness settle into my chest as I crest the final step, stopping to peer at Castle Erus over my shoulder.
A few dozen yards of space between the castle and temple, but they sit worlds apart. And now, the temple is a shadowed and shattered reminder of what it used to be.
Lacking attendants and foot traffic, the once bright white marble of the stairs has grown dull. But… a clear path cuts through the accumulation of dirt and grime. It traces up the stairs and to the front door, easily missed if not standing atop it.
The chain binding the door shut hangs around one of the large, arched handles, its end swaying ever so slowly. Stepping closer, my eyes fall upon the massive metal lock on the ground, it’s shank warped—melted.
She would, it seems.
More than once judging by the worn path.
It takes more strength than I recall necessary to pull the towering door open enough for me to wedge myself inside. Pulling the door shut, I’m encased in darkness.
With a long drawn breath, another difference makes itself known.
The air is stale, stagnant.
The scent of sandalwood and jasmine no longer lingers.
I turn and begin down the hall.
There’s no laughter. No shining magelight chandeliers. No alcoves stocked with candles, burning incense, or moonflowers. No one walking through the hall.
It’s no longer bright and clean and open and vibrant.
It’s dark and dirtied and desolate and damaged.
Ruined.
It feels a lot like where Druka used to live in the Tower. The resounding lifelessness and heavy scent of disturbed dust hanging in the air draws me into the past—to a place I’ll never see again, and to a lover I no longer know.
The sharp sting of shame settles around my heart as I walk. Netharis’ lesson on the impact of my choices—romantic or otherwise—runs rampant in my head.
I sow death and decay.
Whether I intend to… or not.
Climbing over a toppled and broken pillar, glass crunches underfoot as I land on the other side. It’s hard to see much of anything, but on the off chance it isn’t Eve I’m following, I’d rather not summon a magelight.
The hall opens to the sanctum and I stop.
Burning beams of sunlight pour through the east facing windows, sundering sections of the dark. And in those streams of light, more of the destruction is revealed.
Debris strewn across the floor—remnants of the benches.
Dried blood, near black now, stains the white floor. Or perhaps it is black. The grounds were flooded by demons after all.
The silver of a toppled chandelier shines ahead, the once beautiful twisting piece now tangled and tarnished.
And the colossal statue of Celesta?
Her head lies at her feet, cratered into the dais, in the exact place where she and I stood. It peers heavenward, sightless eyes now gouged and scarred by the talons of demons.
I don’t understand it.
Celesta could have stopped them.
She was a godsdamned goddess.
Why didn’t she?
Ryc shared what happened in the moments following my death. Celesta vanished, the ward fell, and the demons stormed the temple. And despite both Ryc and Rowen defending the devotees, the demons hunted them—bypassing the soldiers to spill their blood and steal their souls.
Undoubtedly as a message from Netharis.
If I wanted, I could learn more.
There’s plenty of blood left for me to scry.
I could see exactly what happened that night. I could view the memories burned into blood. But I’m not sure the price of practicing blood magic would be worth whatever stands to be learned. I’d have to contend with both the cost of the magic itself and the cost of breaking Eldoterran law.
Trailing up what used to be the aisle between rows of benches, I approach the dais. There, on the stairs, silver stains glint against the grime. A silver spill, frozen in its cascade down the few stairs.
Clutching a tight fist over my heart, I linger in silence.
And let the malicious mourning flagellate my heart.
It isn’t as excruciating as I deserve.
But it’s more than Celesta has earned.
Eve’s faint laughter floats into the empty space, halting the tailspin of my darkening thoughts.
Following my feet as they’re off before the rest of me, I cross the room toward the slightly ajar door behind the statue.
Her laughter chimes again and she makes a strange clicking, calling sounds, the rattle of pebbles in a metal pan accompanying it.
Remaining hidden in the sanctum, I peer through the narrow gap and the overgrown gardens greet me. It’s no longer a tended bit of Olloran forest. It’s become a wilderness.
Ivy crawls along walls, through broken windows, up trees.
Grass stands near waist high, curtaining the stone tables and benches littered throughout.
The graveled paths lie dotted with weeds, nearly hiding it from view.
Keeping myself firmly planted within the shadows near the door, my eyes trace the path, and find Eve standing alone.
Shaking a tankard.
It rattles, as if she’s filled it with pebbles.
The tall grass around her shifts and four feathered creatures burst onto the path.
Cora’s hens.
Twittering and clucking excitedly at her feet, Eve empties the contents of the tankard onto the gravel in a swinging arc.
My ribs squeeze my heart as my eyes sting and my grip on the bouquet grows crushing.
She’s been taking care of Cora’s hens.
Button and Darla and Mabel and Coco.
But where are Marshmallow and Tillie?
Resisting the urge to race into the gardens, I step backward, falling into the darkness once again. I’m the intruder here. If Eve wanted me with her, she would have come to me.
But now that I’m here…
With a downward glance at the bouquet, I retreat through the sanctum in search of the library.
?????????????
Were I any semblance of smart, I would’ve put my personal reservations aside and come here sooner. The temple library is bound to have information on Celesta. Information the rest of Ollora isn’t likely to know.
Or at least, that’s the hope.
Climbing the four-story flight of stairs proved a breeze after a summer of running across Olloran rooftops. Rounding the top landing, the familiar arched library doorway peeks above the last of the stairs. As I climb the steps, my heart sinks.
Charred and splintered, the doors barely hanging on by the hinges, pieces lie on the floor. The gilded doorknobs are a twisted, warped mess—melted by hellfire. And beyond the flung open doors, Sybille’s desk sits a ruined mess—a breath away from collapsing into a mound of ash.
Halting in the doorway, I heave a sigh.
The rest of the library is the same.
A sea of blackened coal and gray ash.
Fuck.
Why?
What could demons possibly want here?
I wander farther into the room, ash billowing with each step. My toe strikes a broken chair leg and it crumbles. The sudden sound launches a host of sparrows through the window on the other side of the room, over the gardens.
All the devotees that night were in the sanctum. There would have been no lives to claim here, no souls to want.
No.
Not want.
Hide.
What would Netharis hide?
Records of her story?
Of my birth?
Too little, too late. Fated Celestials bared those secrets.
As I approach the corner tucked behind shelves I oft claimed during my short residency, it becomes clear the plush armchair I favored no longer exists. Its skeletal remains darken the marble floor.
With a quick brush of my arm, I clear the nearby windowsill of debris and glass clatters to the floor as ash takes to the air.
The sound rings louder than it should with little else in the room other than open space and marble.
Claiming the makeshift seat, I lower my gaze to the floor, to my trail of footprints through the ash.
“Ves?”
My head snaps up, startled by the sound.
She stands in the doorway, her brows creased.
“Eve,” I reply, surprised. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Lilith told me—”
“Do not lecture me, Ves,” Eve warns. “Not today.”
I shake my head, stammering. “O-of course. I just—I didn’t think you’d want to be alone, but then I saw…”
The expression on Eve’s face softens as she meanders into the library, following the path I cut through the ash.
An extended silence hovers between us as Eve draws closer, her eyes trailing about the room. She’s in as much disbelief as I found myself upon entering.
“Why would they do this?” Eve asks breathily.
“I don’t know,” I answer with a shrug. “But it can’t be anything other than intentional.”
“Agreed,” Eve replies, pursing her lips. “There isn’t a page left intact.”
Plopping herself onto the sill beside me, she gestures at the bouquet with her chin.
“I shouldn’t have lost my temper over flowers,” she says with the same kind of self-loathing huff I often give myself. “Not my proudest moment.”
“Good thing you’re in kindred company,” I say with a halfhearted smile.
My temper has gotten the better of me more times than I can count. I’m certainly not going to shame or ridicule Eve for the same.
“What made you come up here?”
I sigh. “I hoped to find details regarding Celesta. Insight relating to where she may have gone.” I spin the flowers in a slow twirl.
And what a shit guess this turned out to be.
I’ve found an abundance of ash and more questions than I had before.
“What happens when you find her?” Eve asks and my eyes race to hers.
I remain silent.
“What are you going to do?”
I haven’t gotten that far.
Aside from wanting to run a dagger through her heart, contemplating what I’ll do when I do find her isn’t something I’ve given thorough thought. Not when finding her seems monumentally impossible.
“If you do find her, and she’s no longer a goddess,” Eve shatters the silence, “how will she return your innate?”
My jaw clenches.
“Consider letting it go,” she urges, her voice quiet. “Today’s a good day to let things go.”
“I can’t do that,” I whisper. “It may take me centuries, but I’ll find her.”
One way or another, she’ll regret using me as Netharis had.
Eve sighs, turning her attention to the colorful array of aster, phlox, yarrow, and tansies as I slowly spin the bouquet in my hands, contending with my thoughts. Eve’s questions ring in my head. And despite trying to sweep it away once more, a truth emerges from the darkness.
I’m never going to see my shadows again.
I yank myself from the window, startling Eve.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing with my head toward the door. “If we’re letting things go, let’s start with leaving this place behind. It’s filled with reminders.”
“But the hens.” Eve’s dark brows furrow.
“Bring Button home,” I reply.
“Where are they going to stay?” she asks, incredulous. “Their home is here.”
“And it’s falling apart,” I argue. “Predators can slip in and the last thing you need is to venture over to find—”
“Alright,” Eve interjects, leaping to her feet. “Alright,” she repeats, softer. “Let’s bring them home.”
Good.
Then we never have to come back to this place again.
May it burn to the ground.