Chapter 31
Is this… is this the castle?
I hardly recognized the stones of my childhood, crumbling into ash and decay. The dark folded around me. The shadows were like thorned wires mangled in the dark. I stepped forward, rocks jagged against my bare feet.
I stood atop the Sariem wall, though it was nothing but worn ruins. Looking out, I could only distinguish my father’s house against the dreary backdrop of grey skies and black smoke.
Sariem itself nestled somewhere far under, sunken beneath mist that lingered both like seas below and clouds above. Neither stars nor moon nor sun adorned the sky, an endless carriage of black mist rolling over the land.
It was cold here. The bitter air nipped at my nose and cheeks, marking me unwelcome.
It was as though the Everlaides left mankind forgotten.
Behind me, the wood had spread out to devour the land, its trees risen in tall spires. Shadows twitched like the broken wings of a crow, but there was no breeze, and there was no noise. Not a chirp or scream or footstep.
Deceit? He had not spoken to me, so I reached into the dark to know he was there.
Something grazed over my feet. I trembled a step, looking down. There was a tail—leathery and worn with a shard of iron at the end that clawed at my skin. I followed the string of his tail, seeing a figure at the cusp of my sight.
My neck did not twist immediately. I do not know why his appearance left me uneasy. I remembered the brief moment I’d seen him in my dreams, my nightmares, as Amelia’s statue strangled me. I remembered the tail that wrapped around her statue, Amelia crumpling to the touch. His touch.
This was the same tail. The same god.
Deceit’s nails scraped the ruins of the city walls. His feet were both of man and an owl’s talons—human, only… disfigured. Charred in ebony, his skin was tough and scaly like spent firewood. Knees bent backwards. Hips hinged beneath a concaved stomach. And, near the top of his spine, his long neck arched forward.
The God of Deception was two heads taller than me.
I had nearly forgotten the horns that rooted from his temples, but I could never forget those eyes, speckled in grey and black stardust with white pupils. Eyes that did not look at me, only the devastated city before us.
“Do you fear me, child?” Deceit’s lipless mouth stretched from one sunken cheek to the other.
His dark voice was so clear, and, though I’d heard such a tune a thousand times, it sounded so odd from outside myself.
“Should I fear the gods?” I ask. Part of me did, knowing they could lay waste to their sinful creation in one breath. But they hadn’t.
“That is not my question.” His shoulders stayed, but his head turned at an angle, as though his neck was a rigid stilt. Those eyes found me, haunting and knowing. The eyes that witnessed man’s deeds and left the beholder’s heart buried in mortar. He appeared more monster than man and more man than god. Not one statue I’d seen depicted a god as he.
“No,” I answered. I did not fear him. His appearance left me uneasy, but he did not instill fear. We’d known each other too long—our bond was unbreakable.
Deceit’s cheeks bowed with the lineless carving of his mouth, the edges piercing hollow air… a smile. The sight sent a disturbance through me, chills tracing my skin.
I looked back at the city, at the darkness. That is why we had come, but I also had a difficult time holding Deceit’s strange gaze. Was it a friend by my side, a god, a beast? My mind knew the answer, but my eyes could not tell.
“It is so cold here.” My voice died in the air as soon as I’d spoken. No echo, no lasting key.
“Can you see beyond the mist?”
Deceit’s spine cracked as his eyes scraped the obscure.
“There is nothing left to see. All has been consumed by the Shadows.”
I stepped forward again, the ball of my foot cutting on sharp rocks. I arched myself forward, peering below.
“Speak to me clearly, Deceit. What is down there?”
The god’s timbre began beside me, though it roamed into my mind, filling the void he usually occupied.
“The dead, Rhoswen. Shadows stretched out their lethal arms, embracing those unwilling and snapping their throats like twigs." His ancient breath smelled of the wood, and his whetted teeth chafed together.
Everyone is gone? I asked within, my lips unable to move.
“Only those who refused the Shadow’s power. Some still live to wreak depravity into the corruption of this land. But the Shadows are not of our creation, child. Beyond this and the streets below, the God of Sight cannot see—only cursed with the revelation of what could be.” Deceit lifted a hand, his gnarled fingers curling like he might swat away the shroud.
“Do you want to see?” There was a wickedness in his eyes, as though a piece of him was heartened that man had fallen in this reality.
My head shook, my cheeks flushed. I never wanted to see what lay beyond the mist.
He smiled again, a smile as twisted as his vindictive laugh.
“Shame.” And he lowered his hand to his side with coiled fingers.
We stood in silence, the god and I, for some time. My bones turned to icicles in this dim reality. I knew Deceit wished for me to stand at this point. To ruminate. Remember my vows, remember the war we fought. To take my heart and throw it beneath the clinging mist.
The god cackled.
“Darling, if your heart dwelled beneath the mist, you’d finally be free of what shackles you.”
Even as I stood beside him, I felt him burrowing in my mind, plucking my thoughts.
“This is hardly the place for mockery, Deceit.”
The god spoke neither bothered nor angered, only sure.
“But this is the place to which your heart has led you. Your weaknesses, stumbling you into the binds of the Shadows. Lost. Abandoned.”
“Would you ever abandon me?” I asked, my eyes following the bends and curves of the mist, trying not to look at him.
Deceit did not answer. He stood paces from the wall’s edge like a gargoyle upon an old cathedral, his seeing eyes looking at what I could not.
“Do you still believe the lord should live, Davina?” Deceit uttered, and it made me feel like a child again, sitting beside the river of the catacombs, practicing many faces of clay.
Davina, Deceit would call me, until the day I fled through the brambles of white roses. Davina, remember those in your mind, he would say. Cast the clay to do your bidding. Burn their faces into yours.
I wrestled to fathom the vision before me—Andrael’s impending doom.
“When I stand here, what should be is obvious.”
Deceit set his hand upon my shoulder. His nails were spears on my skin.
“And yet I can still sense the conflict in you,” he said, stirring the mist.
“Two appeals, two desires, two influences. But this reality, Rhoswen, it is not severed, it is not unclear. What the Shadows yearn for is a forged blade, as dense as stone.”
“But the lord is not clear. His ambitions are clouded to me.” Looking at the deity, I shuddered, unsure if I should focus on the white or the night sky in his eyes.
“Deceit, he killed Briarwood. He sets the Shadows to rest with magic I do not know. I—” I dared to express my apprehensions, though I knew Deceit already knew them.
“You see my mind. You know my thoughts. I do not believe he deserves death. In his secrets, I cannot know.”
“And I cannot see him, child. The Shadows do not allow it. The Shadows’ hosts, the gods are blind to.”
The gods did not know about Percy, and he was not marked by Shadow.
Deceit did not speak to the thought, but a low, displeased breath wafted from his nostrils.
I lowered my gaze to the stones at my feet.
“So you say you cannot be certain about Alistair, and yet—”
“I am certain of this,” he cut me off. The way his knees bent, it looked as though Deceit might step back, but his feet guided him to the wall’s edge. His talons curled along the lip of the stones with fingers caressing the mist.
“The corruption of man cannot be cured. The lords, the crown, it all must die. You were born into an era of darkness.”
I stepped beside Deceit at the edge.
“But I do not wish to become the darkness I swore to destroy.”
We both looked at the empty air as he spoke.
“So, the acts of the gods will drag you into the evil of this realm?”
“I only know my beliefs—my heart—though I know you call it weakness.”
His tone lessened.
“Well then, perhaps you and I will meet in the Everlaides sooner than expected. I have protected you all your life, Rhoswen, but I cannot seem to protect you from yourself.” Deceit turned from me, only allowing me to see the knots of his spine.
I reached out, my hand snagging the crust of his wrist. I nearly recoiled, but I didn’t. I needed him. Deceit halted, his dagger chin slicing over his shoulder, and he looked at me in the cusp of his eye.
I held him, determined, in my gaze.
“Only do not leave me, Deceit. Our work is not yet done, and… I do not know myself without you.”
The god’s voice was a strained whisper.
“I will not. Not this day. But child, your oath, you must abide to. You cannot defy the dominion of the gods.”
“And what if I were to prove his life might be spared? If I could be sure he is not crafted from the cloth of corruption?”
“The gods have spoken. His fate has been sealed.”
“You’re a god. Can you change his fate?”
Deceit’s posture strained. His tail flicked. His shoulders winged. The god became a blur, and a wash of air struck me. Deceit threw himself around with a violent twitch, unnaturally fast with snapping limbs. His nose almost touched mine.
“Do I look like a god that holds reverence?” The god roared in a hiss, teeth smashed together, nostrils aflare.
I was paralyzed where I stood, shock hardening my body.
Deceit’s skin cracked a new scale at the summons of his furrowed brow. His teeth showed, sharp and baleful. With mature malice in his eyes—that dire loathing for humanity—indeed, the god I served was not one of reverence. He was one to be feared. One that came in the dark of night to cast judgment upon the enemy.
And still, as he towered before me, seething, I did not fear him, but his eyes left me with a knot in my gut.
I stood on my toes, testing my confidence before a deity.
“And what of my fate, Deceit?” I asked.
“I have become a vessel for Shadows as well, yet you still see me.”
Deceit turned away from me once more, treading towards the wall of mist along the wall.
“But you are a host for a god. When you fall to Shadows, when they overcome your soul, I cannot see you. But you have made your vows, the gods have cleansed you of your bloodline’s fate.”
I asked, never wondering before now.
“Do the other gods know I have been marked by Shadow?”
Deceit returned my question with silence.
I watched his tail skim the blanket of mist, the god falling from my sight.
I called out to where he once stood, my heart straining.
“Deceit, do they know?”
His haunting whisper rippled through the haze, hovering all around me, falling within me.
“I have protected you, Davina. More than you know.” Deceit had disappeared past the veil and fell into my mind, heavy and laden. He snatched my eyelids and dragged them down, and the darkness of Andrael fell away.
…
I found Vera sipping tea with Catriona. At least, I thought it was tea until I stepped closer and smelled whiskey swishing in the porcelain mug, the smell burning my nose.
“Hello, Rhoswen!” Catriona embraced me warmly, but the vision of Andrael’s demise left me with no warmth to offer.
The air was heavy, as though I was still breathing in the mist.
Catriona unhanded me, and I marked Vera.
“Sister,” I spoke without a beat of delay.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh, so serious, you are.” Vera winked as she whisked away a wild strand of curls.
With tight eyes and pursed lips, I clasped her at the wrist. “Now.”
Peeling Vera away, Catriona slouched with a sigh. I nicked the corner and led us to a corner in an empty room where the only conspirers were ourselves, the tall walls, and whatever shadows we conjured.
“Is everything all right?” Vera’s eyes roved over me, head to feet.
“How are you feeling?”
“The lords of this age need to fall, yes?” I asked quietly.
“Do they need to fall?” She mimicked as though I was daft for asking.
“Yes, of course they do.” Her eyes narrowed with one brow raised.
“Have you finally come around?” Then a joy washed her face, and she asked in vile delight, “Are you ready to cut the lord’s throat? Perhaps rip away his memories and leave him mad?”
I set my finger on my mouth, near ready to sew Vera’s lips shut, and whispered.
“We need to start with Lucien.”
Deceit groaned.
Vera’s lips capsized into a frown.
“Ah, I see you’re sticking with the original plan.” She tallied.
“Get the lord to trust you, learn about the Shadow, then—
“I believe Lucien attempted to poison me.”
Faint sunlight reflected in her widened eyes.
“What? How? When?”
“This morning.” I chewed the inside of my cheek.
“The petals, the ones he bought in Tharen Crest, they were offered to me by a servant in a cup of tea. Lucien was watching me very closely.”
Above her beating leer, Vera’s delicate brows strained.
“You tell me to, and I will give him nightmares that will never let him see the light of day again.” The dagger in her eyes, the cut of her tongue—I believed her.
“I also think Lucien might be behind Eadric’s passing.”
“I thought the two were friends?”
“The night the guild fell, I masked as a servant. One of the workers told me they poisoned Eadric. Now, I wonder if they used Lucien’s supply.”
“That damn man is always bragging about how big his bloody pockets are. I wouldn’t be surprised if the servants slipped in some petals in exchange for coin. Easy money, if you ask me.”
I pondered aloud.
“And Lucien is in line to inherit the estate and rule over Tharen Crest. Perhaps he cares more for the inheritance than he cares for the Raven Estate.”
Vera digested my words for a moment, her teeth grinding behind her lips. Every freckle sprang gently with the flex of her cheeks.
“But what does the estate have to do with you?”
I shrugged.
“I do not know.”
She leaned closer, cautiously.
“Do you think he suspects your allegiance?”
My mind reeled.
“I do not believe so, but I cannot be certain.”
And there, in my uncertainty, her spirit outpoured through expanding pupils and twisting lips. A taste for challenge coaxed euphoria. Her voice lowered.
“And that is where you need me.”
I nodded.
“I need you to kiss Lucien. Dig into his dreams and tell me what you see. When he was in Tharen Crest, he also mentioned a brew. I’m not sure what this is, and he’s also not working alone. The seller mentioned a second man.”
Her face was lined with satisfaction.
“It could be your lord, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” I said, but, he saved my life.
Deceit shattered the thought as soon as it formed.
Vera squealed.
“The only son of Eadric, killing his father to take the estate. Delicious. Don’t you worry, I’ll rip into Lucien’s mind and give the man nightmares that will make his ancestors squirm in the sands.” She eagerly swung out her foot to scamper off, but she paused to ask.
“And what will you do? I assume you have a plan.”
I spoke hurriedly, wary of approaching footsteps.
“I will mask myself as you and search the kitchen. Perhaps see if I can confirm the tea petals are supplied by Lucien.”
“Why wear a mask?”
“If my speculations are true, he cannot know I’ve been searching the kitchen.”
“Ah, yes, yes, you are the face not to be seen. I knew you wouldn’t let this place change you,” she said, her fist knocking my shoulder with a devious smile.
“Two Veras, one estate,” she muttered.
“How exciting.”
“Stay in the shadows, Vera. Do not let others see you. I will be as quick as I can.”
Vera clenched my arm. Her words spilled like venom.
“And, when we’re done with Lucien, we’re going after the Raven.”
I did not argue—not yet.
“We will appease the gods then search for our brothers and sisters,” she continued.
“Together. You and I, always.” She gave our benediction with a dangerous smile—“Gods watch over you, sister.”
“And you, sister,” I said, guilt and sorrow looming in my belly. Together, always.
I watched Vera’s fleeing silhouette fall into the shadows, unsure if I really held any of the gods’ undying gaze. Deceit declared himself—me being marked by Shadow was unknown to the other deities in the Everlaides. So, how much of myself did the gods truly know? How often did the gods watch over me? Be what it may, with unfailing certainty, I knew one god did watch mankind through me. Always there with biting nails and clawing teeth.
What is your plan, child? I had seen Deceit enough, I could envision him imprisoned beneath the dome of my skull, wallowing in the dark, plucking thoughts and fraying their roots between his weathered fingers.
Can you not tell?
A hundred frantic thoughts are materializing in your mind. The god spoke like an angry drunk, ready to heave out old brandy. I stopped scraping for clarity after seeing the lord’s damn face three times.
I did not indulge Deceit’s annoyance. Lucien tried to take my life. I need to know why. What is the brew, why does he carry poison, and who is the second man?
Deceit’s splintering smile was shards within me. Delaying the inevitable?
Lucien holds the deed to the estate. Either way, he needs to die.
The god spoke in a harsh hush. Of course, my princess.