Chapter 53 #2
Sparrow twisted her body towards the commotion, her face paling as she saw the two dead fae.
Other beings, a female gargoyle closer to the doors, and a fae male began roaring in pain as invisible gashes appeared across their bodies, their blood now staining the white marble tiles.
The fae looked down in shock, his hands unsuccessfully trying to hold his life blood inside, before collapsing.
The shields disappeared. Sparrow shouted to those assembled, pointing to the open throne room doors, her hands still faintly glowing green, “Get out now! Wane, take every being you can–run.” Fae began waning out of the room, grabbing as many beings they could possibly carry with them.
Gargoyles and fae that could not wane, rushed towards safety, pulling their companions along.
A few brave fae waned back in to carry more out.
Adara’s grim smile remained as another being dropped dead, a male gargoyle that looked as if his throat had been slashed by the sharpest blade.
“Adara, stop.” I took another step up the stairs.
“My spell should work with or without the necessary sacrifice,” she murmured, mere feet in front of me.
Her dim eyes fixated on the chaos below, though I saw the kernel of uncertainty flicker in the depths of her expression.
Three steps and I could take her out. But with Keerian so close… If she tried to harm him…
She cocked her head, as if she could hear my thoughts, coolly looking me over before turning her head ever so slowly to take in Sparrow, still healing Merrick.
“Does she know the god that blessed her?” Adara asked me, completely catching me off guard.
“I–No. She doesn’t know. Why,” I deadpanned, slowly creeping up the next step as Adara continued watching Sparrow’s attempts to heal Merrick with blatant curiosity. I prayed he was alive. My gut knew from the silence through our mind connection that it was grim.
“The spells…work in wondrous ways,” Adara said simply, tearing her gaze away from Sparrow as a silver dagger appeared in her pale hands.
She rolled her shoulders back. “They showed me how to mirror your illusion magic by telling me exactly which god blessed you with your acat. From there…I could build anything. Create anything–even a soul tie.” The dagger was plain but deadly, with a long blade wrapped in a white marble handle.
I flicked my eyes from it to Keerian. He was still bound to the throne, my magic frantically beating against Adara’s own.
His green eyes widened as he looked from Adara, to the blade, to me.
My heart cracked.
Adara gently wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger, inspecting it as if she was nothing more than a customer at a sword shop.
“Mother and Father… They never told anyone which god blessed you. I inherited Father’s water magic.
Decidedly from Beyos, himself. But it’s a pathetic skill, really.
I’m not even that good with it. My power was always a disappointment.
Father could command the tides, and I could barely conjure enough water to fill a bath.
” The dagger gleamed in the light from the hundreds of candles nestled in the chandelier overhead.
“But you…you came out different than me. I always knew when we were children… And when we both received our acatis…your entire arm was tattooed while I only got small, easily unnoticed tattoos on my shoulder. It hurt.”
“You sound like us as children now, Adara,” I snapped, pushing Goldriel into my pocket of space where I could keep it close.
At this distance, my nails could attack more effectively than the long staff.
“Do you know how upset I was when only you got our father’s water magic?
The magic that we used to whisper about when we were young?
How we planned to build waterfalls around every side of the castle?
How we wanted to create a giant pool for a kraken in the gardens when we both inherited his power?
I used to try and try for hours to conjure up water like you could. ”
“But then you did. With your illusions,” Adara hissed.
“Don’t leave out that part. How thrilled Father was when he saw you conjure up more water than I ever could.
When you created a waterfall down the very stairs you now stand upon.
” Adara took a sidestep. It was small, I would have missed it if I hadn’t been carefully watching her.
A step closer to Keerian. “But then he realized it was an illusion–it wasn’t his gift.
And he was angry. But more than that–he was afraid.
Do you know which goddess can create illusions?
There have only been whispers of your brand of magic through the telling of time.
And I bet you didn’t know that your lineage god has the exact same horns as you. ”
“No one knows what the gods and goddesses truly looked like, Adara. How can you know what goddess I got my fucking horns from?”
Adara merely gave me a smug smile.
I became aware of a thudding in my ears, as if my breaking heart already knew what Adara would say. The goddess whose stories of bloody conquest were turned into an old wives’ tale to scare misbehaving children. Which goddess was so reverently feared and spoken of only in whispers.
Which goddess had gone down in history revealing that death itself was the grandest illusion of all.
“The goddess that blessed you, dear sister, is the Goddess of Death. Phades.”