Chapter 36 #2
I understood too well. As valuable as I knew more godstone would be in the war, the thought of people dying from the poison I’d watched Luther endure made me sick to my stomach. But was arming my soldiers with Guardian bombs or Fortosian steel swords any better?
“Do you think it’s possible to keep our morals in a war?” I asked him. “If we’re willing to pick up a weapon and kill someone, does it matter how and why we do it, or are we all murderers just the same?”
“I think it matters. That’s why there are so many mortals choosing to fight for you instead of Ophiucae.”
I kicked him under the table until he glared up at me, then flashed him a smile. “Thanks, Tel. And about the flameroot—let’s keep it to ourselves. We won’t use it unless we have to.”
His shoulders relaxed, finally freed from their burden. “Have you told Mother what happened on the island?”
My smile vanished. “No.”
“Have you told Luther?”
I looked away. “No.”
“Don’t you trust him?”
“I do.”
“Diem, did Luther do something? Do I need to pretend to be the older sibling and go beat him up to . . . I don’t know, defend my sister’s honor, I guess?”
My lips twitched. “Luther would never hurt me. My honor is safe.”
He whooshed out a breath. “Thank the gods. He’d crush me like a beetle.” His relief shifted to confusion. “Then what’s going on? Why are you two spending so much time apart?”
I slammed my book closed and grabbed another. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in the middle of a war. I don’t have time for a messy love life.”
“What’s messy about it? You love him, he loves you.” He cocked his head. “Is this like when I went to Sophos because I thought Lily was better off without me?”
Yes.
“No,” I said.
He held up his book. “Does what we’re looking for have anything to do with it?”
Yes.
“No.”
“Honestly, D, you’re the worst liar in Emarion.”
I threw my book on the table and stood. “I’m gonna go search the palace.”
He shook his head. “Sure, D. Run away, like always.”
“I’m not running,” I said hotly. “For once in my life, I’m facing reality. I’m doing the hard thing I don’t want to do, no matter what it costs me.”
“Is this because of what you have to do with Ophiucae? You’re worried you’re going to end up dead, so you’re trying to keep Luther from getting too close?”
Yes.
“No!” I yelled, my shout echoing off the stone walls.
“I knew I got the brains in the family, but I didn’t realize that left you with nothing up there but rocks.
” He lowered his chin in a disappointed stare.
“You have an entire army in Lumnos. You’ve got Descended, half-mortals, Guardians, the royal family, soldiers from Ignios and Fortos, everyone in Mortal City.
Do you understand how many people have put their faith in you? ”
My jaws ground together at the reminder of the thousands of lives sitting on my shoulders. “Yes Teller, I’m very fucking aware.”
“So how many more is it going to take before you have some faith in yourself?”
I couldn’t risk leaving Teller alone in a palace that might be teeming with hidden Centenaries, but I also couldn’t take one second more of the brutal mirror he was shining into my face, so I set off to wander the vacant hallways.
Though the library was undamaged, other parts of the palace had not been so lucky.
Ophiucae had used Montios magic to bring down the carved stone ceilings, reducing many hallways to rubble.
The airy throne room where Yrselle and I had our first proper introduction was now open to the sky, her jade throne cracked in pieces on the ground.
As I clambered over the debris, my mind drifted to my conversation with Henri the night before. Is there a way to end this that doesn’t involve you dying? he’d asked.
Only if I can convince Ophiucae to leave the people of this world alone, I’d said.
But he’s immortal, and you’re not. What if he changes his mind after you’re gone?
That had been a nagging thought in my mind, too. Even if I got the long, happy life I dreamed of, could I leave Ophiucae behind when I died, knowing what he might do if his heart turned back to stone?
Can another Descended cast the spell? Henri had asked. If we get your sword back, can they sacrifice their life instead?
I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t thought to ask the Kindred, and now the bridge to them was cut.
There are a lot of people loyal to you, he’d pushed. One of them would do it, if you asked.
I’d known Henri long enough to spot the plan forming in his head—who he might ask to give their life for mine. Perhaps the same person who had arranged for us to speak.
No, I’d lied. Only I can do it. He hadn’t looked convinced, so I’d added, I won’t send anyone to fight a battle I’m not willing to fight myself.
I know. That’s why I’m here. To fight with you, too.
Promise me you won’t tell anyone, Henri.
I will—as long as you promise me you’ll do everything you can to avoid dying.
I will.
That was a promise I desperately wanted to keep.
I paused at a mile-long hall containing what looked like thousands of framed portraits along the walls.
Each one had a golden plaque below with a name, a date, and an inscription: “May Blessed Umbros receive them.” Though there were several older and a handful newer, most of the dates were the same—shortly after the end of the Blood War.
“The Hall of Remembrance,” I murmured. Yrselle had mentioned it once. These were the Umbros Descended who died when she culled her people down to the one hundred most powerful. Most had volunteered, believing their sacrifice necessary to safeguard the future of their kind.
I paused to straighten a crooked frame, then pulled a fallen one from a pile of stones and remounted it on the wall. I felt an odd kind of kinship with these strangers I’d never known. I wondered if they’d add my portrait here when I was gone.
“Thinking of redecorating?” a smooth voice cut through the silence.
I whirled around, eyes darting over the rubble. “Who’s there?”
“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper now, but it was stunning in its day,” the voice rang out again.
I pushed out my aura until it brushed against another. I recognized its shifty, secretive energy immediately.
“Symond.” I finally spotted him lounging on a divan in a nearby alcove. “I’m glad to see you’re alive.”
He raised a bottle. Many more were scattered around him, mostly empty. “That makes one of us.”
“I thought the palace might be empty. I haven’t seen anyone else.”
“There’s not many of us left.” He took a long swig. “Turns out when there’s only a hundred of you, your numbers dwindle fast.”
“Where are the others?”
“Around.” He wiggled his bottle, it contents sloshing loudly. “Fancy a drink?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before rolling off his chair, nearly toppling over as he wobbled to his feet. He stumbled in a zigzag line to a blackwood cabinet impaled with jagged shards of crystal, then began to rummage in a low drawer.
“Aha!” he called out. He held up two metal goblets with a lopsided smirk. “I’ll even share a pour of the good stuff.” He pulled a flask from his pocket and turned his back to fill the goblets. “I’ve been saving this for Yrselle, but I’m starting to suspect she might not be coming back.”
It had been months since the ritual that trapped me on the island. Had the Crowns not sent a message to Umbros to tell them Yrselle was dead?
Of course they didn’t, I realized. Announcing her death would mean admitting they knew who murdered her.
Much easier to feign ignorance and let everyone assume she’d been killed on her way home.
Then blame would conveniently end up on the Guardians—or the traitor Queen that the Crowns claimed had joined them.
“I’m very sorry about what happened here,” I said. “I saw the damage in the city. I hope—”
“Do you think she knew?”
I blinked. “What?”
He lumbered toward me, the goblets’ contents splashing over the sides. “I couldn’t understand why Yrselle was so determined to keep you here. She was furious that you left.” He came to a stop in front of me. “Do you think she knew Ophiucae was coming?”
I considered it. Yrselle was known for the control she kept over her city. It was hard to imagine she would let it be destroyed without warning her Centenaries to prepare. But she was also the most unpredictable woman I’d ever met. She thrived on chaos and delighted in knowing what others didn’t.
“She knew something bad was going to happen in Emarion,” I said. “Perhaps she didn’t know it would happen so close to home.”
He offered one of the goblets to me, but when I reached for it, he abruptly jerked it back. “Is she dead?”
I held his bleary gaze and nodded.
“And our gryvern?”
I winced, then nodded again.
“Did you kill them?”
That was a harder answer to give.
“They died trying to protect me.”
His eyes wandered to the empty space above my head. Though I’d kept my Crown hidden since our arrival, I let the dark wisps of the Umbros crown appear long enough for recognition to light up on Symond’s face.
“Well then.” He held the goblet out again. “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”
I wasn’t much in the mood for drinking, but it seemed rude to decline a man who’d just survived a slaughter. I took a small sip and nearly spit it right out. Whatever he’d poured tasted like it was strong enough to strip my insides clean.