Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
As Aela drifted in darkness and into the After, she had a final coherent thought.
Fates, let it be enough.
The pressure around her intensified, and she pressed her eyes more firmly closed. Sounds of a river forced to move slowly piqued her interest.
Am I here?
Aela opened her eyes. A living river of flaming gold bisected a pitch-black mass ahead of her.
When she could tear her eyes away from the molten river, she noted faint striations of light smeared across the sky, evidence of stars long gone having succumbed to a greater force.
The dark mass squatted, its weight pulling the fabric of night around it.
A flickering star at the point of fracturing tumbled through the flaming river, its fight against the stronger pull giving out.
Aela watched in horror as the inevitable fate of her kind played out in agonizing slowness. This was where the cursed orbit drained the Zodiac Houses.
This is all that’s awaiting us? There is no afterlife?
Aela was caught in the dark mass’ pull as it dragged her toward its fiery river. The golden glow pulsated as it feasted on the raw energy of the fracturing star, mocking her with its morbid beauty.
Aela tried to gain control of her body, but her trajectory was set.
Just like the Zodiac Houses locked within their constellations, they were all doomed for the golden river.
Amidst her thrashing, a breeze carrying notes of jasmine and amber blew through her hair and nipped at her feverish skin.
She wanted to surrender to that darkness. It would take her home.
Home.
Home.
Home.
The word repeated with each beat of her heart, an anthem of her forlorn soul. Yet the word strengthened her. Her time had not come. Flicker.
Air whooshed from her lungs as Aela landed with a thud.
Expecting to see her sight torn from her as her core fractured and fed what lay in the center of the realm, she found a familiar night sky shining down on her instead as she opened her eyes.
The midnight velvet painted with swirls of aqua and magenta made her smile.
No dark mass, no fiery river of doom, and no sign of her storm remained in the sky.
Her body was splayed out in the sandpit below, and from what she could see, her impact formed a small crater.
Little by little, awareness crept back into her as a sharp ringing sounded in her ears. The celestials in the stadium seating around the arena scrambled over each other as they scurried out of their seats and clogged the tunneled exits out of the coliseum.
In the next moment, Zosma appeared above her.
“Who are you?” he snarled.
Aela ignored the spear aimed at her throat as her eyes landed on the black bands around his charred wrists.
With vivid clarity, what she thought were her last moments flashed in her mind.
Aela pushed up from the ground and knelt, easing the tip of the spear away from her throat.
Zosma allowed her to come closer and relaxed his hold on the weapon.
Her touch was cool against his burned skin as she gently traced a finger on his ruined flesh.
“What did they do to you?” she asked.
Zosma snatched his wrist from her and sat back in the hollow of sand on his heels, staring at her intently. Too many emotions flitted across his face for Aela to track.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, more to himself.
Tension bracketed his eyes as his lips formed a thin line. He avoided her gaze as he stared at his ruined wrists resting on his knees, loosely holding his spear.
“We have to fight. Consume or be fractured. That is the only way either of us will receive any kind of honor.”
“No,” Aela said as she reached for one of his wrists again.
Her grip was light, yet firm as she handled the crystal band and, guided by intuition, applied a slight pressure.
Zosma gasped as the black band that encircled his wrist snapped in two.
His skin was horribly scarred and raw underneath.
Aela grimaced and reached for his other wrist and repeated the motion.
“It doesn’t have to be this way. We don’t have to fight,” Aela said as a calm fury built inside her.
Flames flickered in Zosma’s eyes as he gaped at the broken crystal bands in the sand.
“Zosma,” an authoritative voice called from beyond the rise of the crater, interrupting them. Aela didn’t need to see who it was before she stood and planted herself in front of Zosma. The Lion combatant remained seated and silent, as he stared at his unbound wrists.
A unit of sentinels appeared above the hollow and glared down at her. She lifted her chin and refused to show any weakness under their scrutiny. The Minori, marked by their rank on their shoulders, stepped forward.
“The Prime Apparent demands you finish by consumption or fracture.”
“You can tell your Primar—Prime Apparent, we are done being participants in his blood sport,” Aela bit back.
Zosma scrambled to his feet and went to step around Aela, but she flung the back of her hand to his chest. The Minori laughed, his gang of sentinels behind him doing the same.
“Just for having the will to stand up to him, I think an audience is warranted, wouldn’t you say?” the Minori called to his sentinels. Zosma stiffened beside her.
“I accept,” Aela said in a tone she had never used. The Minori’s smile wavered before he ushered two sentinels to escort her out of the crater. Zosma reached for her and caught her hand before she moved.
“I will never forget this,” he said for her ears alone. Aela bowed her head to him briefly before climbing out of the hollow to meet the Prime Apparent of House Taurus.
After seeing Proxima to her quarters where she would remain tucked away so he could deal with the utter failure that was this cycle’s Games, Tarek strode through the Avarice palace.
His Majori were seeing to his citizens’ safety, and Tala had sent him a message that The Darkness had indeed retreated beyond his city’s wards.
Everything was being handled, but his gut still roiled with unease.
The Darkness was a lethal puzzle he had yet to crack.
It was an irritation that only heightened his annoyed state.
Tarek had lost a hefty sum on that fight.
Zosma’s victory had been all but guaranteed.
He was no Aries, but Tarek had selected him personally as a contender from the designated participants.
The Taureons needed fresh blood. Sequestered as they were, his Line was weakening.
Tarek growled at the thought and sent it skittering away into the far recesses of his mind.
He would acquire Zosma and the star who had refused to end him.
I should consume him myself for the utter embarrassment he caused.
Tarek would use this to his advantage, as he always did, turning the apparent failure into yet another brilliant machination.
He would come away from this day as the victor with hefty spoils.
The storm conjured by the unknown contender called back to an age before his time, before crystals were scarce.
A time when celestials were primed with unbridled power.
Now, his House was an echo, a shell of who they once were.
If Tarek didn’t know any better, he’d think an Aquarian star found their way into his clutches—they were unaccounted for after the War Before.
As for the other air elementals, Librella’s Line had been wiped out, and the Geminis in his service had never displayed lightning, yet they were a secretive bunch.
Tarek huffed softly under his breath as he pushed the gilded doors open into his throne room.
In the eyes of the Senate, if their reaction to Zosma’s lineage was any sign, the star who fought him in the pit would likely topple all of Stardom society.
The War Before was brutal and had reduced the celestial numbers to less than half of their original heavenly host. Some Houses had been hunted to near extinction for their allegiances. House Leo being one of them.
“Someone fetch the Lion, would you? Have him cleaned up for an audience with me. And put him in my wing,” Tarek said dismissively to the entourage that always trailed him.
An attendant dressed in white robes broke off from the herd to do his bidding.
Tarek strode confidently down the center aisle that divided his throne room.
He didn’t spare a glance to either side, ignoring his court that had gathered.
Only once he ascended the stairs of his dais and lounged upon the selenite throne did he look over his House.
He let out an audible sigh as his power reserves swelled.
Tarek looked over the high-ranking members of the Asterism seated closest to his throne and waited.
“Well?” Tarek demanded harshly. Several celestials visibly flinched. “Where are they?”
Good to the Minori’s word, Aela bypassed a cell but was bound with crystal bands and escorted through a series of interconnected tunnels, which led them through the underbelly of the city and into the bowels of the palace.
From there, it seemed her escort was trying their best to make it impossible for her to get her bearings or map an escape based on the many turns and passages they led her down.
Soon enough, Aela stood before a pair of massive golden doors engraved with earthen elements. Wild bulls frolicked in the lush flora etched into the doors, which swung open on silent hinges.
The Minori from the pit, clad in what she observed was the standard uniform—a black tactical suit that enveloped him from his neck to his boots—turned to her with a smile that was anything but kind.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep quiet and accept whatever judgment the Prime Apparent dispenses.”