Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Soon, the young maiden was a maiden no more, and the lowly messenger god who had stolen her heart had also stolen her mind.
—Fabia’s Fables, “People of the Stars.”
Atwisting formed a knot in my stomach, and my throat bobbed. “Protect what?”
“Many things,” Xenelpha replied, “What you came for, of course. The bone of the Bellator whose sacred resting place you entered.” I took a sharp inhale, my ribs aching at the movement, the incessant buzzing from the bone flaring as if in confirmation of her words.
“And where are the rest of my friends?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Friends,” she mused, tilting her head as her eyes drifted to the glowing cuff around my wrist. “Is the one who put the rubelline on your wrist a friend?”
Astraeus.
“Do you know how to get it off?”
The massive ivory skull tilted down as Xenelpha responded, “I do. Would you like me to retrieve your friend’s hand for you?”
My stomach churned. She meant to bring it to me without the rest of him, but I’d had enough of severed hands.
“The magic is tied to his skin, and his alone. He’s been quiet, that mage, with his magic.”
I blinked. Mage? I hadn’t realized Lord Astraeus possessed any magic. He hadn’t let a bit of it show, even in Odessa. Had Astraeus intentionally hidden his magic?
“What is it? And where are the people I came here with?”
“So many questions, yet you have not answered mine. Who will you be, Lyvia? Will you bring demin, destruction, or m’ando, hope? Until you can answer that, Faron’s Advetis will not yield. Even to you, Bonder.”
Advetis. The word rang through my memory like a thousand bells chiming in the wind, settling within me. Advetis, the bone seemed to whisper from behind a wall, Show me where you will take me.
“May I see the marks?” Xenelpha asked after another moment, eyes flicking to my hands.
I held them out and flipped my palms up, the luminous eight-pointed stars glowing in the blue light of the massive ice chamber. Xenelpha peered at them for several moments, unmoving.
“Twice blessed or twice cursed, I wonder,” she mused, “Either way, you must find the balance. What is it that bound them in the first place?”
I snapped my hands closed at that, sick of the riddles and tired of being a captive. I’d had enough. We were here for the bone. We would leave with the bone. I’d figure out how to harness the damned Transcindiel power if it killed me. I’d save the ashen.
“I’ll tell you who I am,” I said, straightening my spine and letting my hands fall to my sides, “I am Lyvia. The gods have hurled daggers at me, and I am sick and tired of being on the receiving end of whatever shit they’ve concocted.
I’ve come for the Advetis Bone. And I’ll be leaving here with it, along with my friends.
I will return to my caeluma and the other Bellators.
I will keep it safe until I find its master, or they find me.
We will retake Sultira. We will end Dark King Daimos. ”
Xenelpha’s eyes flashed in the shadows of the skull, and I held a breath, a sudden certainty spreading over me. The command in my voice was relieved, as if it had been subdued for too long.
A line of bright white spread beneath the mask as Xenelpha’s lips tilted into a wide grin. I braced myself as she reached into her thickly furred coat and pulled out my long, sharp dagger. Talon… Or rather, Honor’s golden gem shone in the icy chamber like an ember in the snow.
“This,” she began, as she took the blade in her gloved hand before offering me the hilt, “does not belong to you.”
I gripped the dagger, tucking it safely in my boot.
“It didn’t belong to the elf, either,” she continued, and my stomach churned at the image of Cyril’s sneering face, danger and bloodlust dripping from the tongue that flicked over his lips.
“I don’t care who it belonged to.” I straightened. “It’s mine now.”
“You may someday.” Xenelpha’s smile grew beneath her mask, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. “You and your… friends,” she continued, “may stay here for a short time. But the fate of Advetis rests on you. I will take you to the bone. Should you unlock it, you may leave with it.”
I blinked. Just like that? Why?
Xenelpha’s staff clanked four times on the ice beneath us, the sound reverberating across the vast chamber.
My knees buckled as the ice beneath us shuddered and the blaring groan of ice on ice boomed through the chamber as eight massive sections of the ceiling spun counterclockwise, lifting away from the center like a blooming flower. The same way Enya’s tomb had opened.
Darkness flooded in its absence as it opened to the night sky.
A sigh escaped my lips as thousands of stars, all varying colors, like none I’d ever seen, dotted the sky like a blanket of sparks.
The sun had set long ago, as I followed her gaze and eyed Ganmira early in her trek above, giving chase to the brilliant blue orb of Renova, already high in the sky.
“Come,” Xenelpha beckoned as she walked up the frozen steps of the amphitheater.
Towering, conical trees came into view as we ascended the steps, their large shadows like giant guards posted along the Rhashtai village.
Hundreds of small buildings, most erected straight from the ice and some as tall as their neighboring trees, spread in a zigzagging pattern.
The village was small, yet somehow grand, as I traced my eyes over the intricate designs carved on each building and the sophisticated light system connecting the street lanterns.
I followed Xenelpha through the sleeping village, catching the eye of several warriors, clad in the same bone armor, their gazes following us as we trailed the winding road in its center until we came to a domed ice structure.
Though our bond was stifled by the rubelline cuff on my wrist, I pushed against the thick wall and sent my emotions screaming toward Aquila.
Caution. Safety. The best I could manage, giving him some indication of our location and status.
A veiled sort of response hit me a few moments later.
Reassurance. My heart warmed at the faint connection.
“The rest of your party is inside,” she said, placing a small pouch of something in my hand. “This should wake them. They are your responsibility. Maadon is in one week. You may stay until its celebration. And then you must move on, with or without the bone.”
“What is Maadon?”
“A day of balance, a turning point. When darkness meets light.”
My swallow was dry. “The equinox? The autumnal equinox is in one week?” I asked, my voice hollow. Had we truly been gone almost three months? My stomach twisted.
Xenelpha nodded and turned to leave, and I asked, “What about Lord Astraeus?”
The small form stilled before turning back toward me. “The lord…” the matron mused, rubbing her chin with her thumb and forefinger. “He’s not the threat I suspected he was…”
I opened my mouth to question what the hell that meant when she paused and surveyed me.
“A word of advice. Life is but a frieze, a carving of the series of choices we make. Each etch of the chisel, each choice, a creation of who we are to become,” she said, her voice as clear and crisp as the nearing snowy morning.
My mind drifted to the elaborate etching at the base of the icy amphitheater.
“Choices shape us,” she continued, “They can transform the engraving into something of true beauty or destroy it entirely. I will leave his fate in your hands.”
The weight of her words settled as an internal conflict began to brew. My hatred for the man seemed at odds with the urge to free him. I’d see him to get this cuff off either way and decide what to do with him later.
A large, unlit fireplace sat in the center of the chilled chamber, surrounded by thick, twirling, beautiful structures of ice that spun up through the middle, opening to the ceiling to allow smoke its escape.
The remaining nine members of the party we’d entered the lake with sat bound together around the hearth, unconscious.
I knelt beside Ronan and lifted his chin.
Dried blood caked on the side of his head, his usual light curls, dark and crusty.
A nasty bruise formed beneath his left eye.
Water filled my eyes as I sniffed the small bag Xenelpha gave me.
Celosia powder, I realized, as the phantom sting snaked its way up my nose, accompanied by images of High Priest Helmar’s face.
I placed a small amount on my finger and rubbed a tiny amount on Ronan’s upper lip with the tip of my pinky.
A ragged cough filled the chamber, followed by a sneeze. Ronan’s groan was deep and sleepy.
“Wake up, lazy,” I whispered.
“Lyvia,” he murmured as I cut his bounds loose. “Where are we?” Sapphire eyes blinked as he took in our surroundings and rubbed his wrists.
“Welcome to Rhashtai, home of the Guardians of the Dead,” I murmured, moving to rouse Vienah, who was blessedly in better shape.
I kept Kresida, Raek, and the rest of Lord Astraeus’s men bound as I woke them, one by one.
Ronan and Vienah cleaned up and stood on either side of me as they all regained consciousness, tugging on their bounds.
The soft, orange gleam of morning light crept its way into the round, thin sheets of ice lining the chamber, providing window-like openings as clear as glass.
“Good morning,” I said, circling the group bound around the hearth.
“Here is how this is going to go,” I continued, looking each of them in the eye, “I am done taking orders from any of you. We are done taking orders from you. From Antares. From Astraeus.”
I stopped as I neared Ronan and Vienah.
“Where is Lord Astraeus?” Raek demanded, his sea green eyes sharp.
“Being held elsewhere,” I answered. “And the first thing I’ll be doing after our little discussion will be getting the rubelline cuffs removed from myself and Vienah.”
Raek’s eyes widened before a sneer slapped across his face.
“The Rhashtai have offered us shelter for the next week. I will decide what that looks like for the seven of you.”
“Why am I still tied up?” Kresida’s voice dripped with fury as her dark eyes found mine. I slowly made my way around the hearth and squatted before her.
“Where does your allegiance lie, War Slayer?” I asked, quietly placing the sharp tip of Honor against her chest in the dimness of dawn.
“It lies with Princess Carina Ravindra. It always has, it always will,” she said, straightening as best she could with the restraints still in place.
“Are you a liar, Kresida?” I whispered. “Have you sworn an air oath to Queen Antares?” My eyes scanned hers as they widened.
Nerissa had told me she expected as much.
And according to Ronan, it was why Nerissa had received such backlash when she promoted Vulcan to her second, years ago, as he claimed he would never swear an air oath.
Nerissa had served her uncle, and the air oath that she’d sworn as a War Slayer had ended with his death.
“While I believe your loyalty to Carina is true, I can’t be certain you’re not bound to her mother. I cannot trust you. At least not entirely.”
“Untie me,” Kresida shook with rage. “Untie me or—”
“I am done,” I snapped. “I am done being ordered around. I am done bowing to your queen. I am done being held captive.”
Ronan chuckled, earning a hiss from Kresida. I spun on my heel and stalked from the small chamber, Vienah and Ronan closely behind.
I led Ronan and Vienah through the village as people shuffled about in the early morning. Men, women, and children of all ages set to work, many of them forgoing the bones and white paint, appearing far more friendly. They casually observed us, curiously glancing in our direction as we walked by.
We stopped dead in our tracks as the tree line shook, a boom rumbling through the needles.
My jaw dropped as two ivory tusks, each longer than I was tall, crushed through the trees.
The massive creature that emerged was covered in shaggy, brown fur with one long snout that swung along the snowy ground as it stomped through the forest. A Bone Warrior sat atop its back, spear resting casually against her shoulder.
A line of downed tree trunks dragged behind the massive beast.
Ronan let out a low whistle as we watched the beast enter the village.
“Good heavens,” Vienah whispered beside me.
“I don’t think they answer to the heavens,” I murmured, though I smiled and couldn’t help but share in her awe.
“I like this new Lyvia,” Ronan muttered as we made our way to the center of the village. “Sounds like this matron gave you more than a pep talk.”
I glanced sidelong at him.
“I was being honest,” I said, eyeing the guards that trailed us despite our freedom. “I’m tired of all of it.”
“I know,” he said, voice softening. Vienah remained quiet. She didn’t know everything that had unfolded in the last year. Ronan placed a hand on my shoulder, halting me. I turned toward him, and he settled his gaze on mine. “We’ll get back. We’ll do it all.”
Something in my heart melted at the truth in his words, at the softness in his expression. “We need to find the others we left at the lake. Contact them somehow.”
My mouth quirked to the side. “Already ahead of you, Commander,” I said, throwing him a wink. Ronan’s returning smile would have sent butterflies dancing in my stomach a year ago. Now, it flooded me with the steady warmth of friendship. I turned to Vienah.
“Let’s get these taken off,” I said, holding up my wrist. While her brown eyes still held deep shadows beneath them, the smile she offered me was full of light and determination.