Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
At night, the Messenger took the maiden’s form, the only sliver of his race shining in his eyes like stars. Love took root, its vines wrapping around the young maiden’s heart and mind in the sweeping, savage way only love can.
—Fabia’s Fables, “People of the Stars.”
Lord Astraeus’s wide eyes shot to mine. The slight whistle of several bowstrings whined, and I stiffened, waiting for their release.
I blinked as I spotted at least ten warriors, eerily hidden against the walls of the small chamber, camouflaged in white leathers, with matching paint adorning their hands and faces.
“Remove your hand from the resting place,” an accented voice commanded.
I picked up my hands from the lid, bringing them to my sides as I slid my gaze back to Lord Astraeus. A cold calmness had come over him as he carefully removed his hand.
Footsteps padded from far beyond as the white stone on the far side of the chamber smoothly slid away, revealing a hidden hall.
I flinched as a short figure stepped into the chamber, bones clacking as their steps slowed.
A massive skull of some great horned beast sat atop their face, obscuring it from view.
Rows of bones hung draped across a white, furred tunic and pants.
The skull rotated slowly, scanning our group, one by one. A white spear, its blade hewn from bone, lifted its point at Vienah. I caught Ronan’s eye before he moved in front of the water witch, and a blade appeared at his throat.
The ivory point of the spear slowly shifted, and I pulled my gaze back to the strange leader as they leveled it at me. The Obscura power bucked at the wall in place and the sudden arrival of a threat.
The skull tilted, as if the giant beast cocked its head, curious about its prey, and the figure slowly stepped closer to me. I willed my pounding heart to settle.
I blew a slow breath through my lips as the figure placed the ivory tip at the center of my chest. They stopped, the dark eyes somehow bright beneath the mask, and lifted a gloved hand, covered in long, curved claws, which clicked together in some unspoken command.
A sudden push of air whispered across my cheek, and my stomach turned.
“Your Holiness,” Lord Astraeus crooned from across the sarcophagus, hands still in the air, head angled down. “May I present to you Tynan’s Accepted, Lyvia of Sultira, Bonder of the Bellators, here to claim the bone of power.”
Lord Astraeus lifted his eyes to me, and a small grin appeared on his lips.
I blinked, processing his words as the room stiffened.
He held my gaze for a heartbeat before I pulled it away and settled it on the form of bones and claws in front of me.
Willing my heart to calm, I rotated my wrists, palms flipping to the low ceiling, and showcased the luminous eight-pointed matching stars on my hands.
The arrowhead poised at my neck dipped. Despite the feeling of dread it invited, I plastered a look of subservience on my face and purred, “I am at your service, Your Holiness.”
The figure before me waited several agonizing heartbeats before responding. “No.”
The word rang through the chamber in a clear, damning female voice from the small form before me. The stone ceiling let out a soft hiss, and my powers pounded wildly against the thick wall in response.
“Languidus smoke!” Kresida warned in a panic.
Ivory smog floated from the ceiling. I clamped my mouth shut and held my breath as my pulse banged against my neck.
A white, ashy substance clouded the chamber, stealing my sight.
I whipped my head back, creating a small amount of distance between my neck and that ivory spear, as I shoved the base of my palm up the shaft.
I ducked into a crouch and swiped my leg out, clipping the armed ankle of the small woman.
My shin barked in pain at contact with the sharpened bone, and the woman staggered.
Grunts and thuds echoed from across the chamber as we engaged the hidden warriors.
A shout from my right, and Ronan backed into me as he sliced through the archer behind me.
The woman in front recovered her stance and blindly thrust into the white haze.
I kept low and barreled into her, the force of my tackle knocking the wind from my chest. She toppled over, barking a curse.
I took a damning breath as instinct took over and the languid smoke snaked its way into my lungs.
My fingertips tingled as I struggled to get to my feet. The white staff of the woman’s spear shoved against my chest, and I flipped onto my back as nausea clawed its way into my gut. I attempted to shove her off with waterlogged limbs.
Fuzzy darkness encroached on my vision. I blinked rapidly, resisting the urge to succumb to the smoke. The woman shoved again, pinning me to the ground, knocking the air out of my chest, and forcing me to take one more fateful breath before darkness took me.
A hall of sparkling jewels spread before me as I put one foot in front of the other, crystals of varying blues creating a swirling stream of stones beneath my feet that led me down the center aisle.
A different view of the Crystal Castle, my semi-conscious mind realized, as once again I watched through Enya’s eyes.
A group of warriors stood at the front of the dais, many eyeing me with distrust, others, fear. A grin formed on my lips, and I snapped my teeth at them. The woman in the center tsked her tongue.
Such manners, the foreign voice chided in my head. Ordell promised you’d behave.
I resisted the urge to rake my darkness down her face, seething at her intrusion.
Ordell has a soft heart, I murmured before slamming my mental wall down, cutting off the queen who stood at the center of the dais.
Olienna.
There was something strangely familiar about her, my half-conscious self noted, as I gazed at the beautiful queen. A loud crack clapped from behind, and I whipped around to find a warrior’s dark, almond eyes glaring at me as he strode past and joined the group at the front.
Faron, Enya’s mind said. The copper of his skin gleamed with the melted snow that shook off the thick white fur slung from his shoulders.
Enya snapped my attention back as Olienna’s lips tilted into a soft grin as she stood. The fabric of her black gown rippled down the front.
Watch, Enya seemed to say. Listen.
“Welcome, Sister,” the queen said. “Thank you for coming.” She gestured to the oval table between them as the Bellators shuffled around, finding their places.
I stopped walking a few feet before my seat.
“Ordell said there would be snacks,” I said, crossing my arms before the group.
A scoff left the sensuous lips of the man to my right. His bright green eyes flared as he glanced at me before softly shaking his head.
“What a sneer to wear on the face of a gentleman, Kyson,” I crooned, clucking my tongue. “One might think I wasn’t welcome.”
Kyson watched as I placed a hand on my heart, noting the darkness slithering in my veins.
It rarely left these days, its strength growing to a level I scarcely imagined.
A flicker of apprehension crossed his features before he schooled them into cool confidence.
That look, my half-conscious self thought. The Ravindra eyes, the Ravindra look.
“One might think you were working with them, given your destructive history, Enya,” Kyson said, his clear voice ringing through the vast, crystal chamber.
The others shifted in their seats at the tone of the king of Lotrennia.
Fury lit the fuse hitched to my powers, and I let a small shadow spin into my palms, where it hovered above my skin.
Kyson’s gaze transformed from green to white flames as he took in the blatant threat. His hands curled into fists.
“Seems you’ve lost your kingdom and your wits if you think I’d ally with them,” I snapped.
Olienna opened her mouth to interject when the door to the great hall opened, and the warm scent of cinnamon drifted in with the cool breeze from the surrounding mountains. My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t let myself turn around.
“I brought snacks,” Ordell proclaimed as he strode down the hall, tossing a bag of sweets onto the round table.
Do not smile.
I chanted the command in my mind as the handsome, tawny-eyed elf shot a quick look in my direction before finding his seat among his brothers and sisters.
He ruffled his short, sandy brown hair in that I-don’t-give-a-shit way before pulling a round, sugary piece of taffy from the bag and popping it into his mouth.
“Caramel?” His lips kicked up into a smirk as he lifted an eyebrow and nodded to me.
My eyes lingered briefly on the perfect curve of his lips. “I prefer chocolate.”
A quick, barely perceptible twist of his wrist ignited a sprinkling of golden power, and the caramel in his hand took on a dark, creamy hue. He extended his palm toward me, which I ignored. I scanned the rest of the group watching me with wary interest.
Brothers and sisters in bond, not in blood.
The Band of the Bellators.
The final seven. Eight, I realized, if I were to join them.
“We don’t have much time,” Olienna said from the head of the table, her violet eyes sparkling. “By coming here, Enya, you’ve answered the call. The call to protect the innocent from all threats to this world.”
“One thousand, four hundred and fifty years,” the woman to my left said, her heavily accented voice ringing through the room. “According to the constellations.”
Her hair, as dark and deep as red wine, hung in tight curls, draping past her shoulders. I lifted a brow at the young woman.
“Lelyth has never been wrong. And we are the last,” the man nearest me said, pinning his soft brown eyes on me. He lifted a dark hand and scratched at the thick beard covering his chin. “Fifteen hundred years is a long time. Even for the elves, it is too long. We start now or never.”
I blinked at the powerful man sitting before me. My mind whirred as I began reading between the lines. Was he suggesting…
“They are coming for all of us. They want what was taken. We must decide…”
My consciousness grappled at the memory in a panic. I needed this memory. Enya reached for me as I slipped away. But I wasn’t slipping back into consciousness… I was slipping further from it…
My heart eased as I swam in eternal darkness, following the glimmering ribbons of light.
I was back in that strange in-between, back with the threads binding me to the universe.
But being in this place, gliding through it, instead of looking up into it as I did at the Waters of Ascendiel, was vast bliss.
The web was a complex, intricate thing of beauty. Threads danced, one tugging lovingly as I passed. I tugged back and poured my love into the thread bonding me with Tiberius, not knowing exactly how I knew it was him, and not caring.
I continued swimming, oblivious and indifferent to where my human body was, forgetting what Enya had been trying to tell me.
A flash of silver, and that daring, braided thread materialized in the distance, pulsing, beckoning, as if it were nearby.
I stared at it, curiosity getting the better of me, and extended my not-hand toward it.
The silver light of it, like the light of a star, shone brighter.
Was I smiling? Could I smile in this place?
I thought I might be. Somewhere, the heart inside my human body picked up a steady beat in response.
I wanted to swim inside this thread, explore it in every way, never leave it.
But my eye caught on those lovely Bellator ribbons that swayed in the water-like darkness. I leaned into the current that pulled me toward them and ran my fingers through the six. Had I been in my human body, I would have shuddered against their touch. And there it was.
That one bright one, similar to the rest, but not the same. Bayne. My fingertips grazed that connection, a wave of sunlight shuddering in response, confirming what I’d tried to tell him. It gave a sad, gentle pulse.
Somewhere far away, a resigned sigh escaped my physical lips. I knew all along this was here, hidden. Ignored. Even if Bayne thought it impossible. I reached out, and the thread brightened, as if coming fully awake for the first time.
And then it snapped.
A terrible rip cracked in my head as I was torn from that blissful state of connection and hurtled back into my physical body.