Chapter Twenty-Three
Tucking the obsidian box into the side of my boot, I straighten myself and take a step. It sits secure, snug, and… mostly hidden. The bulge on the side of my leg shouldn’t be too noticeable.
Leaving it in my quarters isn’t an option.
At least, not one I’m comfortable with.
I haven’t even looked at it. I’m not ready. Perhaps I will be after today’s lesson. Eve’s advice sits against my heart, along with the image of Cora’s gift.
At least this obsidian box doesn’t pull at my essence. It lacks the unweaving curse like that of the glamouring ring’s box. Settled in my decision, I set off for the study on the ground floor.
The castle is quieter today.
There’s a lingering air of apprehension and mourning.
The stark realization that what lies in the courtyard—at their doorstep—isn’t simply a harmless, beautiful thing to look at. It’s ancient, powerful, otherworldly, and unknown.
As I open the study door, Lilith lifts her head from the open book before her. Seated with her back to the windows, she’s haloed in a bright light. Her crimson hair shining like spun rubies.
“Good morn, Ves,” she greets in her typical bright and cheery tones with a dazzling smile.
“Good morn,” I return, closing the door behind me.
“I wondered if I would see you today,” she says, closing her book. “I would have understood if you decided to keep to yourself.”
I pull out the chair on her left. “I’m still trying to understand it,” I say, seating myself.
“Well, once you figure it out, promise me you won’t do it again,” she says, smiling. “I’d like to keep as many people as possible on this side of the veil. You included.”
Pushing the book aside, she clasps her hands upon the table and leans forward. For a moment she studies me, the intensity of her stare becoming too much for me to meet.
“How are you feeling?” she asks. “I was with Ryc before…” she pauses, her lips flattening. “When he had to find you.”
“I’m fine. Thank you,” I answer with little hesitation.
I might be a devilish creature with a fractured soul and my little world might be falling apart, but it’s fine.
I’m fine.
“You’re allowed to be not fine, Ves,” Lilith says softly.
“I don’t need your permission, Lilith,” I counter, lifting my chin. I fold my hands in my lap. “What I need is to figure this out and to mend my soul.”
Lilith straightens herself, nodding as she pulls her hands back. She lets them fall into her lap.
“You’re right,” she replies. “You don’t. But it harms nothing to hear it.”
“Fair enough,” I relent with a small sigh.
“This is the second time you’ve been drawn into the veil. Right?” she asks and I nod. “Could it be the fractured half of your soul calling to you? Asking for help?”
“I’m not sure how such a thing would be possible.”
Lilith lifts a slender shoulder in a shrug. “How is it possible you sit here?”
Alright.
Point taken.
“You have no recollection of when this happened?”
I meet her hazel eyes briefly. “No. But that doesn’t mean anything. Netharis tampered with my memories.”
I steel myself against the quick to rise darkness of my time locked away in obsidian.
“Do you think it was him?” she asks. “He was the one who did this to you?”
Again, I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s hard to believe it could have been anyone else. A fractured soul is easier to control.”
Lilith laughs. “If that’s the case, I might be scared to see who you’ll be once you’ve mended yours.”
I pause.
That’s not something I've stopped to consider.
I have no idea who I’ll become.
Lilith’s brows crease. “Oh, Ves, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” I interject, brushing off her words with a wave of a hand.
She raises a point I’d be foolish to ignore.
“I simply meant if you were capable of taking on a god when you were easier to control…” she shakes her head ruefully. “The entire pantheon united doesn’t stand a chance in controlling you once you’ve mended things,” she explains anyway.
I purse my lips. “The pantheon isn’t united?”
Do they not work together to plague mortals?
Lilith reels back, giving me quite the scrutiny-filled and judging glare. “They’re not any more united than the council,” she laughs. “I would have figured that much was obvious after meeting Celesta.”
“Beyond Netharis, I’ve little experience with the gods,” I reply.
“Though,” Lilith says, her brows lifting, “I believe Nektos is the one entity they would rise to meet. She’s older than the pantheon, steeped in the old ways.”
“You mean like the primordials?” I ask, my curiosity growing.
She nods. “None have seen her. Yet we all know she exists. Same with Aether, Chaos, Life…” she trails off, letting the words hang for a moment.
“But you’ve seen the gods?”
She answers with another nod. “Many people have. And never all in the same place. They like to be lavished in attention. Helios and Helias appear during sunset of the summer solstice in Solis for example. Indui has been known to lurk about Ashemere among her blessed. Drithys presented herself during my Joining.”
The goddess of mercy.
Appropriate considering Lilith’s hints regarding the nature of her relationship with Thalion. Though it seems only Lilith took the blessing to heart.
“Makes me wonder which god, if any, will bless your union,” Lilith says, her head tilting with the thought.
A weak smile pulls at my lips. “I must not have gotten that far in The Joining yet.”
Her glare turns flat.
Shifting under the weight of her stare, the painting beyond her catches my attention. Framed in gold, it depicts a white balcony high above a raging ocean on the night of a full moon. A white tower perched on bluffs under a starless sky. It gleams in the moonlight—something about it feels familiar.
Like I’ve seen it before.
Before I can recall the countless paintings in the hall leading to Netharis’ study, Lilith speaks.
“I’ll forgive you for the offense if you confirm what a little bird told me earlier this morning,” she says with a teasing smile.
“You can speak with animals?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat, sounding more incredulous than I’d like.
I’m convinced she’s a forest fae.
Or at least a descendant.
Somehow.
She bubbles with golden laughter. “No, Ves. I cannot speak with animals. I tend to forget you’re more literal than most.”
“You confuse me for Cyran,” I retort, leaning back in my seat as disappointment settles in.
If she can speak to animals, she can help me understand the raven. Figure out who or what it is and what it wants—that is… if I ever see the damn thing again.
“Cyran is the little bird,” she laughs. “I saw him accept a delivery from one of Ollora’s renowned silversmiths. I didn’t think anything of it until he made straight for the stairs.”
Lilith is more observant than she needs to be.
“Tell me you don’t have Ryc’s gift,” she challenges, grinning.
“I don’t have Ryc’s gift.”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she chimes, laughing. “The slight bulge in your boot isn’t a swollen ankle.”
Not just observant, but astute.
I’m starting to understand how Lilith excelled as Sovereign Queen of Erus.
“What’s in your boot, Ves?” she asks with a smirk and arched brow.
“My foot,” I answer, knowing damn well that answer isn’t going to satisfy her.
Her flat glare returns. “You lie and we both know it.”
“I’m glad to see you’ve come to understand how most demons function,” I reply with a smile. “I’d like to think I’ve proven I’m not a typical demon.”
Or at least, that’s what the hells have taught me.
Lilith heaves a defeated sigh, sinking into her seat. “I only wanted to celebrate with you. But fine… if you do have Ryc’s gift. Consider giving it to him today. After these last few weeks, we could all use a bit of joyful news.”
We, as in Erus.
Sweeping the book into the nook of her arm as she stands, she offers me a stunning smile.
Confused, I ask, “Are we not having today’s lesson?”
She pushes her chair to the table with her hip. “I have a few things I need to plan and prepare today,” she answers. “Tomorrow will be your most exciting lesson yet. I promise,” she says over her shoulder as she opens the door.
“Lilith—”
The door closes behind her.
And I heave a sigh.
Lilith and Eve rarely agree on anything. And I’m sure if they were here in the same room that would hold true. One of them would argue against giving Ryc his gift with the sole intent of nothing other than being contrary.
The end times must be nigh.
Alone in the study, I pull the box from my boot and set it before me. I think now I understand what Ryc meant when he mentioned presenting my gift in his study wasn’t how he wanted to do things.
I want to do this.
The how of the matter may be less than ideal, but I suppose that shouldn’t bear as much weight as the outcome. I wedge the box slightly ajar and release. It snaps shut. The sound of the repeated motion drills into my head but quickly becomes white noise.
In a few short months, my entire world has shifted, changed… grown.
I walk among the living. I’m no longer under the crushing thumb of Netharis. I no longer have to deal with the hells.
Well, mostly.
My life is no longer the narrow slip of existence confined to the Tower and reaping in the veil.
I don’t have to lose myself in books to escape to other worlds, I can step through the castle doors and stand in it.
It’s become a wildly intricate, delicate, interwoven life filled with so many things that continue to leave me in awe.
Ryc leaves me in awe.
Prying open the box again, it doesn’t snap shut.
Instead, it swings wide, revealing the ring inside. Perched upon a bed of thick, pale moss, the silver shines near blinding—polished to the high heavens. The band, constructed of silver and filigreed ivy leaves, is nearly identical to mine. It’s a touch wider—more proportionate for his hand.
But it’s the hellfire obsidian gem nestled between leaves that catches my attention. Waves of crimson, yellow, and orange wash over the surface, searing across shadow like hellfire itself.