Chapter 60
CHAPTER SIXTY
NERISSA
I have yet to find the records on the original pantheon of gods you requested. And I don’t think it was the Living Library that hid them this time.
– Unopened correspondence from Khato to Carina.
Nerissa – Pyracantha, Lotrennia
Idug my nails into my palms, willing my hands to stop shaking as I crouched in the shadows of the trees bordering Pyracantha.
The pain was too dull to erase the haunting memory of Renova and Ganmira sinking their teeth into my flesh, and I dragged myself away from the nightmare my mind couldn’t forget.
The unholy shriek that echoed from the thorns of the prison moments ago crawled over my skin.
I thought of Lyvia, but an overwhelming sense of dread threatened to suffocate my concern for her.
Get your shit together, Nerissa.
I’d been through worse, hadn’t I? I’d spent sixteen years in Mount Telum’s dungeons. I’d been tortured. I’d endured plenty, and Selvina had healed the wounds from the goddesses as soon as we’d arrived back in Ayla. I made it. I’d survived.
As Bayne rallied the War Slayers, Isla had gathered the remaining mystics of Lotrennia and distributed the múritinne rings that she and Drystan had created in Votruvia.
Drystan brought additional fighters, rubelline weapons, and even winged horses from Astraeus’s homeland, but we’d yet to see the Embodied.
Ganmira and Renova had retreated when Bayne and Aquila saved me, and we hadn’t heard a thing in the hours that passed, until the roar and then the spine-tingling shriek.
At least Kresida had gotten Lida and those pups away.
I hadn’t had time to dwell on the return of the sacred wolves of Lotrennia.
Were the pups the only two left? The Embodied had fed on the mother… And then on me…
Something about their attack tortured my psyche.
Had I lost something more than just my blood?
My soul screamed in the moment, as if the part that made me an elf had been ripped to shreds…
It had folded in on itself, curled into a small, aching ball.
The Soleia flames had tried to comfort it, reaching a tendril of warmth to that soft, injured part inside of me, but it had retreated so far that a void arrived in its wake.
You’re bleeding, Aquila spoke softly into my mind.
I slowly unballed my fists, peeling my fingernails out of my aching palm. The cooling air slid over my bloody hands before I wiped them on my leathers. My eyes cut to where Bayne and Queen Antares knelt a few feet away, and I prayed neither of them scented it.
I’m so sorry we didn’t get there sooner, Aquila continued. I will never forgive myself.
I’m fine, I murmured. You saved me. Quit hovering.
I am your caeluma, he said after a moment, an aching pain wavering with the defeated pride in his voice, I am a part of you, and I…
He trailed off as a wave of deep regret slipped through his emotional barrier.
I can feel what they did to you. I will spend the rest of my existence making it up to you.
I managed to send a line of reassurance to him, despite my fingers still shaking.
You sure about that, old man? I asked. You live for thousands of years. That’s a lot of favors, I tried to joke.
Though I couldn’t see where he perched in the dark canopy above, I sensed the ruffling of his long feathers. The image eased the pain in my heart for just a moment.
You can start by flying to that little shop with the morning pastries when this is all over, I finally said.
I’ve been demoted to a pastry bird? he asked, yet his ancient voice held a note of humor.
Yep, I replied, a small smile in my mind’s voice. Pastries and wine. And lots of time in the sun.
He huffed into my mind. I suppose that sounds like a nice way to spend the next thousand years.
I blew a slow breath through my nose, pulling my attention back to where Tiberius stood before the entrance of the prison.
Where were they? Lyvia’s caeluma had used his Transcindiel power to create his shield, and now, we waited.
Minutes ticked by. Dawn wasn’t far off, yet it was so dark.
The two moons of Vael had provided little in the way of illumination.
From opposite the clearing, a singular blue orb materialized in the darkness of the trees, and my blood stilled.
Ganmira is here, I whispered into my mind, certain that Renova’s bright white body wouldn’t camouflage as easily.
Aquila relayed the message to Nishanth and Tiberius, and the caelumas communicated to their respective Bellators.
My eyes flicked to Bayne and Queen Antares, and they nodded their understanding.
Ganmira’s body slipped through the trees, her movement barely perceptible as she blended perfectly into the shadows, but Tiberius turned to face where she approached.
“It is time, Animal, to return what your elf has stolen,” she whispered, moving silently through the mossy undergrowth.
Tiberius’s ears flattened, and his body tensed, despite the thick shield that encased him. The Embodied’s too-long legs stretched over a thick, downed tree, and she slipped her thin foot onto a pile of crunched leaves.
My stomach lurched as she neared. Just a few more steps… I cut my gaze to where Raek waited to trigger the rubelline-lined trap as soon as she crossed into its path.
“Your rider is surely dead by now,” Ganmira continued, inching closer to where we needed her. “My sister feeds on her as we speak. And I must admit, I am looking forward to tasting you.”
One more step…
Ganmira’s face snapped up as a crack slapped through the silence of the trees. My heart thundered, and I searched for the source of the sound, feeling for my Bellator bond with Drystan. It had to have been him… What the fuck was he thinking?
My mouth parted as slim, aged hands suddenly appeared on both sides of Ganmira’s face. The feminine fingers pressed into what little flesh made up her cheeks. The Embodied stilled, and her human-like facial features tightened in terror.
My hand slapped over my mouth as the figure behind Ganmira tilted her head, and Marian’s face came into view.
Liquid silver swam in Marian’s irises, and her mouth twisted into a sickening smile I’d never seen on my crewmate’s face before.
“Hello, beautiful Sister,” she hissed, the sound spitty and distorted. Two slabs of muscle slipped from her mouth as she spoke.
Bile burned my throat.
I’d never heard Marian speak before. She hadn’t said a word after Oslo had rescued her from a tribute ship in Stynguard twenty-five years ago.
The Sultiran soldiers had punished her and her husband for speaking out after he’d left the Order of the Death Scholars.
My stomach flipped over itself as the evidence of her torture slipped through her mouth—the forked tongue of a snake, the university emblem, a mocking nod to the existence she left behind as a Life Scholar. My heart broke for her…
But this wasn’t Marian.
The múritinne ring on my finger seemed to sparkle in the presence of those silver eyes. I’d seen them once before, at Maadon, during our time with the Rhashtai. The Impostor. The Messenger god, who started this whole war thousands of years ago.
Sintarrak.
Before the Vael Lacrima had been opened, he’d simply been watching Lyvia.
He’d been able to see through the eyes of others but not take over their minds.
We’d known he’d returned when the gate opened.
He’d gone after Olienna first. He’d tortured her mind before he’d destroyed it, and then, he’d disappeared.
If he’d taken over Marian’s body, did that mean he’d been in Sultira this entire time? And how had nobody noticed? My stomach lurched as my thoughts spun to Evony… To Ronan. Oh gods, were they okay?
Movement drew my eyes to where Queen Antares and Bayne crouched near me, and I frowned as I caught Antares slip her hand into Bayne’s. Her pale face was a mask of raw terror.
Bayne flinched. His lip curled as if caught off guard by the act, but he didn’t remove his hand from hers. A hot rage pounced at the sight, and I reined in the urge to snarl. I pulled my attention back to the Embodied, and my stomach lurched.
Ganmira’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and the goddess’s strange skin began to shrivel, her limited flesh sinking into her long bones.
Sintarrak stretched Marian’s lips over her teeth as he smiled, silver eyes flashing wildly in greed.
Marian’s hands contorted over Ganmira’s shrinking cheeks.
Her fingers ripped through the thinning skin as the goddess fell to her knees.
Sintarrak flung Marian’s face to the sky, and he let out an unholy cry as Ganmira’s strange body began to shake.
A soft glow of… something… emanated from Marian’s body, and my mind raced.
Sintarrak fathered the race of the Starlings…
The demigods who stole some of the power from the Embodied, leading to the creation of the Bellators.
And we’d learned now that they also had the ability to transfer power, as evidenced by Lord Astraeus’s Conduit abilities…
Oh my gods… He was transferring Ganmira’s power to himself.
I stole a quick look at Bayne, and my brother’s mouth had parted in horror.
His green eyes were wide, and his brows pinched up.
A terrifying pop rippled through the clearing as Sintarrak directed Marian’s hands to snap the neck of the goddess.
Ganmira’s shriveled body slipped silently to the mossy ground.
What the hell were we going to do?
We kill Sintarrak, we kill Marian. Bayne’s eyes softened as he seemed to come to the same conclusion, and for the first time since his soulbinding, I saw a glimpse of the captain of the Evecta, not the king of Lotrennia, as he calculated the damning fate of one of his own.
I inched closer to him when I froze. Where had Queen Antares gone?
Bayne’s head whipped around. A sick, twisting sensation swarmed my gut, and my eyes cut to Tiberius. The caeluma had slowly backed away from the two gods, still beyond the rubelline trap we had set.
Sintarrak turned Marian’s eyes on Tiberius and cocked her head.
Shadows twitched beyond the entrance of Pyracantha, and I prayed Lyvia had dealt with Renova…
That she was now waiting just beyond, ready to intervene.
Marian took one step closer to the trap when Queen Antares’s piercing voice called across the valley.
“Sintarrak!”
Silver flashed, and a crack ripped through the small clearing. Marian’s body disappeared and reappeared several feet away, her hands now gripping the queen’s slim, ivory throat.
Bayne moved, but I snatched his arm.
Queen Antares’s petal pink lips tilted into a small smile as Sintarrak gazed at her. Silver eyes swept over the queen’s strong form. Sintarrak pinched Marian’s brown brows as he examined her.
“Welcome to Vael, my god,” the queen rasped through Sintarrak’s tight grip.
My blood stilled as rage and shock collided. Sintarrak lightened his grip on her throat, and Marian’s hand snatched the queen’s wrist, gazing at her fisted hand.
Marian’s head turned jerkily to the side as the silver eyes examined the múritinne ring on the queen’s finger. Sintarrak curled Marian’s lips up in a slippery snarl.
“A gift for the god of gods,” Queen Antares crooned, her grin widening as she opened her closed fist.
The refracting colors of a second, thick múritinne ring shimmered as it dropped from her palm and onto the ground. Sintarrak watched it fall and pulled Marian’s lips into a sinister smile before he snapped her face in our direction.
My mind spun in slow motion as I worked out which ring the queen had presented. The answer came too slowly for my limbs to move in time to reach for my brother, to urge him to run…
He’d spent the last seventeen months amassing more and more power after his vision at the Waters of Ascendiel. He’d been soulbound to a mystic, a sacrifice to amplify his power. He was a Bellator, and he was now the strongest, most powerful he’d ever been.
Marian blinked once, and when her eyes opened, they were brown.
Her brows pinched in confusion as she looked around in shock.
A crack ripped through the clearing, and a dry wind brushed against my cheek as Drystan appeared next to me.
His hands gripped my arm, just as a tremor racked through Bayne’s body.
Drystan’s grip tightened, and my stomach threatened to bottom out as my brother turned toward me.
Menacing flames of silver replaced the calm, confident Ravindra green of his eyes.
A sickening squeezing sensation tightened the air around me, and the world spun out from under my feet as Drystan pulled me through time and space.