Chapter 11
eleven
“How does this work?” I asked, tugging on the burnished silver chain around my wrist. It shimmered similarly to my cloak, but had a strange icy chill when prodded.
“That small bit of rock will preserve your life in Eltidian. It alters your appearance to that of an I’phri. Can’t say the long ears suit you, though, you looked better before.”
My fingers jumped to my lobe, but the shell felt exactly as I remembered it. “They don’t feel pointed.”
“They certainly look pointed. Keep your venomous tongue in check, though. The illusion can’t hide your sharp words, and my people won’t hesitate to cut it out.”
But he would.
Why he desired to save me when the rest of his people were so cruel was beyond me. I shook away the shiver that found its way to my shoulders and dropped my fingers from the chain.
“Where are we going?”
“The temple of the Moons. Despite the unfortunate circumstances of your birth, you deserve to look upon the true gods at least once.”
“Ovatar is the true god,” I shot back, but the look he gave ran my blood cold.
“Never say that to me again. Should you repeat it in Eltidian, your life will be forfeit before you finish the sentence.”
I gaped and expected him to shove me away from the venom lacing his tone, but his hand remained over mine. I swallowed and chose my words carefully.
“You hate him?”
His boots scuffed the banks of ankle-deep snow. “Hate is not a strong enough word. Despise—detest would be closer, yet still not enough to describe what we feel toward him.” His hand tightened around mine. “In time, I feel you’ll come to the same conclusion.”
My heart jumped. “Why do you think that?”
“Of all the humans I’ve met, you’ve been the most reasonable.”
My cheeks flushed. That sounded like a compliment, though from the troubled look across his features, it must have pained him to say it.
“You think I’m reasonable?”
He hissed a few curses in another language. “Must you use my words against me?” He shook his head. “You intend to make good on your end of the bargain, do you not?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m going to your temple!”
“The humans I’m familiar with would never even attempt such.”
I didn’t try to decipher what that meant, my focus on the distant towers. As the trees grew sparser, the towers became more numerous until silver-accented stone spires surrounded us. The remnants of withered ivy climbed the rock, consuming the bricks, but somehow not shattering the foundation.
It felt ancient. Something about how the icicles hung and weathered away the harsh edges felt like this place had seen hundreds or perhaps thousands of winter storms. And though ice cloaked the city and all the buildings, it had fared better than the surrounding forest.
But I’d never seen towers like this before, built of this scale—even our castle was squat in comparison.
Large stone basins dotted the center of the walkways, but were iced over.
Now they only boasted piles of snow and horrifying ice sculptures, and jagged remnants of statues.
I imagined they’d once held flowers and other shrubbery, but had succumbed to the frozen hell.
When was the last time this place had seen summer?
“If you don’t close your mouth, someone might put something in there,” Aelen quipped, his voice close enough that his warm breath caressed my cheek.
I pulled my jaw shut and followed him through the bustling streets.
No matter how hard I searched the busy crowd, there wasn’t a single horn or hint of demonic eyes.
Not a single ghoul or ghost. No monsters trekked the streets, only tall, lithe people who looked strangely similar to Aelen and donned the same sharp ears.
We came to a center square that boasted two notable buildings: a cathedral of similar size to our bell tower and an oppressive temple constructed of smaller shooting spires, connected only by covered bridges.
The cathedral was reminiscent of our temple to Ovatar, but in the way a cloud is reminiscent of a thunderstorm—four times the size, covered with bright silver emblems, and enclosed with iron gates.
I assumed they were there to protect the stained-glass windows with their spiraling silver sashes.
More metal must have covered this building than the whole royal guard.
Opulent grandeur coated in a thick layer of ice.
“Why would you go through the trouble of building all this only for it to freeze?” I whispered.
“It wasn’t always cold,” he replied flatly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
The words knocked at something inside, trying to open something I’d long since sealed.
But before I ruminated on it, he thrust me into the temple.
His touch sent lightning up my arm, nesting behind my sternum, but I focused too intently on the surrounding splendor, so much that I hardly noticed the sickly sweet smell of incense that hung in the air or the warmth that beaded my brow.
I couldn’t stop staring at the silver wirework that climbed the walls and put the most grandiose room of my castle to shame.
Between the silver filigree were floor-length windows stained with grand depictions in brighter colors than I’d seen in most paintings.
The light streamed through them, brightening them like multicolored candles.
All of them had the same theme, phases of the moon, with figures wrapped around and caressing the crescents.
A man with pointed ears, a mirrored woman, and one final man with tears streaming down his face.
All three bore midnight hair, bedecked with stars that sparkled and caught the light through the raven glass.
Their eyes hung on each other the way Aelen’s often followed me. I shook away the blooming shiver.
“Are they married?” I asked in a low voice.
He shushed me as he guided me through the crowd but kept his lips close to my ear. “They were quadruplets, equals in the sky above.”
If they’re quadruplets, where’s the fourth one?
The answer pooled in my gut, but I silenced the thought as quickly as Aelen shushed me.
He dragged me until we reached a long altar boasting numerous candles and floral incense. As he pushed me to kneel as his fingers dug into my shoulders painfully.
“Bow,” he hissed.
I complied, lowering my head. “You told me you’d give me answers.”
He kneeled beside me and bowed his head in unison. “Be quiet. This is a place of holiness. The dragons are messengers of the gods, and carry their desires along with their burdens down to us. You cannot bond with them unless you know their nature. Reflect and see if the gods speak to you.”
I stared down at my aching knees for too long. But eventually my mind wandered and my tongue got the best of me. “Does this have anything to do with the horrible event that wounded the dragon?”
“Yes,” he gritted. “Events do not happen in isolation. It is a chain that comes from the beginning, and to understand the end, you must know the inception. That is why I’ve brought you here on the most holy of day—despite the fact that you shouldn’t be here. You must remember.”
When I stared up at the great depiction of the moon gods, something strange stirred behind my breastbone. How could I remember something I’d never known?
Many late arrivals flooded the temple. Their entrance cascaded to the front and shoved us closer to the altar.
It had the phases of the moon carved in stone and some ancient writing I couldn’t make out from here.
The idle chatter quieted, and one woman emerged from the side, her voice echoing across the great hall.
“We gather to remember what was loved and what was lost. They gave themselves so that we might thrive, and in the process lost their own, the forsaken star.”
Aelen began mouthing something silently, his gaze glued to the floor.
Is he praying?
But as more people bustled in, the gap between us widened, and a few I’phri pushed between us.
Once more, I gazed up, but the same uncomfortable feeling twisted in my chest. It ached and seethed in a way that made me ill, begging to be released. I thought I might be sick.
The ground spun, and before the lightheadedness took me, I swept myself up.
The crowd swallowed me as I pushed my way through it.
I needed air. The biting chill would steal my ailing gut and replace it with a numbing ice.
As expected, the cold wrapped around me and ripped away the unease that wrestled inside.
One final liturgy slipped through the open doors. “Hand in hand, Finitar, Dimeidas, and Abcin shattered themselves so that they might lift up their lost and fallen star, forever searching and begging for him to come home.” The words faded into nothing as I lost myself in the busy square.
Yet I was finally away from my ‘captor’ and had the world at my fingertips. I swept through the crowds, pushing my way through until I caught a glimpse of Aelen slipping from the temple. My heart thundered as I ducked into the closest building.
The smell of ancient wood was pungent, like an old pine forest that seeped into every pore of your clothes. It must have been from the sconces that decorated every corner of the room, burning with a violet flame.
I didn’t expect to find myself in a tavern.
A long mahogany bar stretched across the center of the room, boxing in the barkeepers with many wine casks lining the back wall.
The same dark wood made up the tables where the I’phri played cards or slumped over beside emptied wine glasses. It felt so foreign and yet so familiar.
On the closest end, a group of I’phri dressed in riding leathers were engaged in cards and dice—and arguing. I made for the table to observe from over their shoulders. I stood over one woman with hair like the darkest wood I could imagine, and a darker complexion than Aelen’s.