Chapter 54
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
DRYSTAN
Final passage sits at the center, beneath the water and lights.
– High Priest Helmar’s Journal.
Drystan – Borva, Votruvia
“What’s wrong?” Lyvia rushed to my side as I caught my footing in the sitting room of Eghan House, and I took several deep breaths as I relayed the situation in Lotrennia. A familiar determination drew her brows together, and she nodded, clearly communicating with Tiberius.
“We need rubellines and the rest of the múritinne rings,” she signed as we rushed from the room and to Astraeus’s armory. “I’ll get Kellan, and we’ll be ready—”
I gripped her arm, halting her.
“Selvina and Nishanth,” I corrected her.
She frowned. Kellan appeared around the corner, his brows drawn.
“Well, yes, but—”
“I’m taking them first,” I cut in. “We’ll need their healing powers. And the Embodied are after you.”
Lyvia’s hands clapped around her arms as she crossed them. Her lips fell open as if I’d slapped her. I tilted my head and forced my features to soften in empathy.
“Think. We need to be smart about this,” I replied.
Her hands balled into fists as she dropped them to her sides.
“Tiberius and I are not going to stay behind while the rest of you fight! And what about the Obscura? We need as many Bellators as we can to fight against them.”
Her hand movements were calm, but I could tell her voice had risen by the strong movements of her jaw. Astraeus’s hand appeared on her arm as he stepped forward. His dark eyes cut to mine in cautious understanding.
“You don’t need to stay behind,” he cut in, dropping his hand from her arm.
“But we need to be careful. Ganmira and Renova picked up on your power as soon as you used the Transcindiel last time. They’ll know you’re in Lotrennia the second your shield forms. Let the others go, scope out the situation, and we’ll bring you and Tiberius back. ”
My lips drew back in a grimace. Though it wasn’t a bad plan, I had a terrible feeling something was going to happen to Lyvia.
“What of Lord Pavel and the fleets? We have Votruvian and Sultiran ships at our disposal. Should we send them to Lotrennia?” Lyvia asked.
I looked to Astraeus, whose brows had narrowed in thought. He ran a hand through his hair.
“If war is coming to Lotrennia, we should be there,” he answered, staring out to the Crimson Sea in the distance. “But it will take weeks for them to arrive.”
A belt of inadequacy wrapped itself around my chest, and my shoulders tensed as I recalled Olienna’s words from Mount Telum last year. She said Faron, the last Bellator to wield the Advetis, could transport entire armies across time and space. I could barely make it with a few extra bodies…
Lyvia’s hand appeared on my arm. Her brows angled upward in concern, and I quickly zipped up the crack that allowed my emotions to flood down the bond to her. I pulled my gaze away before her empathy made it worse.
“We don’t know how long this war will last,” Astraeus cut in, “and if it’s starting in Lotrennia, Votruvian ships will make their way there. I’d wager Pavel’s fleet will join.”
I nodded, crossing my arms.
“Selvina is with Mother Eghan in the healer’s quarters,” Lyvia said, releasing her hand from my arm.
“I’ll send for the rings and will meet you by the stables with as many rubellines as we can manage,” Astraeus signed before turning in the opposite direction at the wide stairs.
The tiny bits of matter that formed my physical body screamed in protest as I forced four bodies through time and space.
My mind split against the overwhelming squeeze of the shift.
My arms shook as I maintained my grip, Astraeus’s large hand clamped over mine as his sharp power zapped through me, fueling the drastic drain of the Advetis.
Pink evening light glowed against the horizon and met with a line of dark red treetops as we arrived above the elven city of Ayla and the Gilded Fortress.
Nishanth’s snowy white wings splayed wide, pumping against a northern gust. I loosened my grip around Selvina’s strong waist, and my fingers unraveled from her caeluma’s thick feathers.
We soared over the treetops, Selvina signing with one hand what Aquila now relayed to Nishanth, the two hawks communicating in their own way.
“North of here!”
A blast of brilliant white light erupted where a line of trees unraveled gold and red leaves, and Nishanth banked. She dropped Astraeus and me before a group of War Slayers arming themselves to the teeth. They gave us a quick update as we dropped a load of rubelline arrows and spear tips.
Astraeus gripped my hand, and a moment later, we were inside the Living Library. I frantically scanned the fifth-floor stacks for Isla and the master of spells.
Khato looked up, his tawny eyes alert and fierce despite the deep worry lines etched in his dark skin.
“They’re heading for Ayla,” I relayed as I rushed in.
Isla’s face popped around the corner as I handed Khato a múritinne ring. He held the ring between two fingers and adjusted his spectacles, nodding briefly before slipping it on his finger.
“Get the rest of these to the mystics.” He nodded to Isla. “If what you say is true, and Sintarrak is not only after the Bellator powers, but also his fellow Embodied, we’re putting a rather large target on Lotrennia.”
My gut flipped.
“Five Bellators and two Embodied,” I agreed. “And if he’s already killed the rest of the gods, then he already has the power to heal and to travel through space. He could be here at any moment.”
Something rumbled through the floor of the Living Library, and I reached for Isla’s arm as we looked around wildly. Books dove from the shelves the ancient tree had formed, disappearing as they hit the ground, as if the tree were safeguarding its wealth of knowledge.
Color leached from the old master of spells’ face as he watched them vanish, and he snapped his head up.
My hand had found its way to Isla’s, and I glanced down to find her face pinned on mine.
I waited for her to loosen her grip, but she squeezed, something curious and soft sitting in the depths of her amber eyes.
“They’re coming. Bring as many fighters, múritinne rings, and rubelline weapons as you can manage,” Khato instructed, moving quickly through the stacks and back to the pulley-like vines stretching across the center of the massive tree.
We hurried into the baskets before they dropped to the first level.
We strode through the massive rotunda and down the entry hall of the colossal organism, where flashes of light and hurried shadows marched past the opening.
Twilight crept through the clouds, and Lotrennian soldiers marched through the dim avenues of Ayla.
Heads whipped upward, shields and spears following.
My hand tightened on Isla’s, and I followed their gazes to the skies, where massive, silver-winged creatures flew.
My gut heaved as one swooped down, reaching sharp talons around a soldier’s arm and lifting him to the sky.
The elven warriors reacted, and they moved into practiced, precise formations.
Archers sprinted to higher ground, and foot soldiers raised shields before thrusting them at the near-invisible creatures.
“Pixies?” Isla asked, her brows furrowed.
“No longer.” Khato frowned, shaking his head. “That is surely Ganmira and Renova’s work, turning creatures of our realm against us.”
Civilian elves rushed through the chaos, and children clung to their mothers as the monstrous pixies attacked from above.
“Bring Lyvia and Tiberius to the Eye of the Wood.” The master of spells turned to Astraeus and me. “Tell them to stay hidden and to keep her powers leashed until we have them cornered. Only when we’re certain we have an upper hand can they appear.”
Lord Astraeus stilled, something lethal dripping in his gaze as he cut it to the master of spells.
“—not using her— bait,” he bit out, my eyes tracking the movement of his lips and catching only a few words as his arms remained pinned to his side, shoulders rigid.
I snapped my face at the master of spells, sure the pirate lord had misunderstood. Khato’s bristly gray brows turned down.
“We will do whatever we need to protect the people of this realm,” Khato snapped back, hand movements fluid. “Your air oath with the Bonder might have ended with your death, but I doubt you’ve forgotten the words you swore.”
The pirate lord’s lips peeled over his teeth in a snarl as his brows drew down.
“We need something to distract them,” Khato continued, nodding to where Isla and I stood. “They are focused on Lyvia’s power. Take her to the Eye of the Wood, and Aquila or Nishanth will tell Tiberius when and where they should appear.”
“Lyvia will be the only one deciding when and where she shall appear,” Astraeus growled as he signed. He turned toward me, hand outstretched.
My throat bobbed as I turned to Isla, realizing her hand still gripped my own. She squeezed once more before I dropped it. I gave the pirate a grim nod, and we disappeared.
I stumbled up the rocks leading to Eghan House on our third pass, my head aching from the whiplash of the back-to-back trips.
We’d shifted the great distance from Lotrennia to Votruvia and back five times now, taking weapons and warriors with us, Vulcan, Raek, and Aeriden among them.
The pirate lord fueled me up after each pass.
I’d only been able to transport a few winged horses, and we had one last trip to make.
The Advetis seemed to sigh in exhaustion at the thought.
The dry scent of hay and distant salt of the Crimson Sea shoved up my nose as I gained my bearings. Astraeus asked me to land near the stables, and he wiped the back of his hand over his lips and nose, the beads of blood smearing across his skin.
I paused, frowning as I surveyed him with a long look. While his Conduit abilities allowed him to transfer power to and from others, I didn’t know what it took from him.
“Are you all right?” I asked, scanning him.
The pirate lord gave me a grim nod and trudged up the stony steps.
Mother Eghan wrung her hands in the doorway.
The old woman’s brows were scrunched as she listened for our arrival.
The young healer stood slightly behind her.
Naomi focused on Astraeus as he neared, but I could tell even from behind, the pirate kept his eyes on his mother as he reached his hand out.
I caught the last few words on Mother Eghan’s lips as I neared.
“—wary of the cost.”
Astraeus must have replied, because Mother Eghan’s reddish gray brows pulled together, displeased with his response.
We strode around the back of the house, where Lyvia paced around Tiberius’s hulking form.
She’d suited up in dark brown fighting leathers.
Her arms were bare, and the snaking lines of her shadows lingered beneath her skin, ready to break free.
Her black hair roped around her head in a line of braids tied tightly to her scalp.
Enya’s intricate blade sat strapped to her back, and I caught the flash of gold from Honor’s hilt at her waist.
A dark line of paint stretched from temple to temple, crossing over her eyes and eyebrows.
It looked similar to the War Slayer’s paint Kresida and Nerissa wore, but Astraeus had dragged his fingers through it, running five long smudges down the center of her face, marking her as a Votruvian warrior.
I’d seen it on the pirate lord during the Battle of Odessa.
Though Astraeus had done a decent job of masking his concern, Lyvia had nodded vigorously to Khato’s plan on using her as bait. The pirate had developed a fierce sort of obsession with protecting her.
She rushed to where we stood, and her gaze snapped to Kellan, scanning him.
“You’re draining,” she said, her eyes wide and throat bobbing as she shook her head.
His thumb brushed against her cheek as he muttered reassurances.
I tore my eyes away and looked to the pasture in the distance.
Tempest jerked her head upright and watched me.
I’d decided she would stay behind. Even with Astraeus’s power-ups, I had barely enough in me to bring the rest of them to Lotrennia.
My stomach plunged as a deep-rooted inadequacy reared at the sight of her. At my failure. Why hadn’t she become mine? I’d been so certain… I’d grown up at Cantor Manor with the agrippa herd. Wouldn’t it make sense a part-agrippa would become my caeluma?
As if reading my thoughts, Tiberius clomped forward and nudged me with his giant, velvety nose. I patted his silky, broad withers as I gave Lyvia and Astraeus a moment of privacy.
Lyvia’s eyes were red when I turned around, but she hadn’t let a tear fall. I snapped my face at Astraeus.
“I’m fine,” he replied, his lips drawing a thin line. “But this will have to be the last time I fuel you up. At least for a few hours.”
Lyvia’s throat bobbed, and I didn’t need a Bellator bond in place to know my best friend was sick with worry. I reached for her hand, squeezing it in my grip and nodding.
“I’ll only pull from it when I absolutely need it,” I reassured them both, my own incompetence digging claws into me.
Had Faron been able to transport this much mass, this far, without help?
Or was it simply because I was so weak? My throat bobbed as the intrusive thoughts forced their way into my mind.
Lyvia wiped the worry from her face and gave us both a confident nod.
“Let’s kill the gods.”