Chapter 89
“Really? Not even the smallest of hints?” Quentin stomped on a twisting vine, smiling at the way it snapped under his boot. “Such as…where we might be going?”
Krilene shook her pale head. “No. You will understand when we get there.”
Quentin grumbled. He offered his hand to Delaynie as she stepped over the pesky underbrush. She gave him a soft smile, her face paler than usual.
She was still weak, still shaky on her legs, but managing. Whatever that drink was that Krilene had given her, it had done wonders. She’d gone from unsteady and heaving to being able to traipse through the jungles.
They hadn’t talked about her new gift. But that wasn’t exactly easy to do, not when a goddess was always within earshot.
There would be a time. They would be able to unpack all this. And maybe, just maybe, figure out what was next for them.
Krilene led them on a winding path through the Kizar jungles. Quentin had no idea what time it was or how long they’d been walking, but he knew the sun hadn’t yet set. The canopy was thick, but a few rays punctured the foliage, dappling the mossy ground with just enough light to see.
“You said this will all depend on me being strong enough,” Quentin said, desperate to fill the silence with more than just birdsong and the chirping of insects. “What if I’m not?”
He wasn’t even sure what Krilene meant. Or what he meant in asking the question. And really, did the answer even matter?
Krilene glanced back over her shoulder, smiling. “I have a feeling you will be.” She shrugged. “Or you won’t. I am immortal. It all matters very little to me, beyond convenience.”
“Great,” Quentin mumbled. “How incredibly reassuring of you.”
Delaynie giggled, and he couldn’t help but return her smile.
After that, he let the birds win. They traveled without speaking for a while longer—again, it was impossible to tell time beneath the trees.
Just when he was about to claw down all the hanging vines that swung in his face with his bare fucking hands, the forest broke.
The canopy opened abruptly, spitting them out onto a beautiful white-sand beach.
The Mirrored Sea glittered in jewel-toned blues and greens, fluffy white clouds hanging heavily in the pale sky.
On the beach, as if rising out of the sands, was a resplendent building. It was built from cream and white stone, its walls and pillars inlaid with seashells and glimmering with mother-of-pearl. The waves lapped at its steps, seafoam the color of Krilene’s eyes sticking to the stone.
A brilliant, terrifying smile spread across the goddess’s face. “We’re here,” she said with a sigh. “My temple. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Delaynie’s shoulder brushed Quentin’s. “Yes,” she said. “It is.”
Quentin only nodded. A feeling trickled down his spine. This place was beautiful; he had eyes, just as the others did. But his instincts had woken up, prodding him to awareness.
Something waited in this place.
Quentin had kept himself alive his entire life with those instincts. Not once had he disregarded them. He had no intentions of starting now.
“What’s inside your temple, Krilene?”
The goddess’s eyes were piercing, nearly glowing beside the ocean. Quentin swore the tides rose a fraction, the crashing of the waves drumming a bit harder on the sands.
“I suppose you’ll have to see for yourself, Armature.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Or are you not strong enough to even enter?”
Gods, she had to say it like that, didn’t she? “Fine.” He worked a muscle in his jaw. “Lead the way, then.”
Krilene tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I would be happy to.” She sashayed forward, steps light as if floating. Quentin and Delaynie were slower to follow, their feet sinking into the satiny sand.
“I think I’m over all these gods and their superiority complexes,” Quentin said, more to himself than anything.
Delaynie chuckled softly. “That must be the perk of living for an eternity,” she said. “Always new people on the continent to impress, even if your tricks are old.”
“Delaynie Albellane.” Quentin tsked, catching her hand as she wobbled in the deep sands. “Speaking blasphemy before a goddess’s own temple. I thought you were raised better than that.”
“I was.” Delaynie gave him a sheepish grin. “But maybe I’m having fun being corrupted.”
“Please stop flirting,” Krilene said. She stood on the first steps to her temple, arms crossed as the water parted around her feet, brushing her robes like a cat. “As endearing as I’m sure you are, we don’t have much time. We’re already late as it is.”
“Late for what?” They finally reached the steps, the water swallowing their boots. Quentin groaned, hopping up a few more steps until he was out of the tide, but the damage was done—water squelched in his boots, annoying and uncomfortable.
Krilene, of course, didn’t answer him. She simply brushed past him as he helped Delaynie up, placing her palm on the great stone doors.
They swung open on silent, invisible hinges, cool air rushing out to greet them.
Krilene swept inside without a breath of hesitation. With a final shared glance, Quentin and Delaynie followed.
The temple was just as beautiful inside as it was out.
More of the same pale stone encased the cavernous room, seashells of every shape and color set into intricate designs on the floor.
Great pillars rose up to the ceiling, which was painted the same blue green as the sea.
Mosaics of fish and kelp and every manner of sea creature wound and danced through the room, like they’d stepped below the waves.
Of course, Krilene was not only the Goddess of the Sea.
Inlaid along the pillars were beautiful, golden casts of splendid weapons. From swords to bows to daggers—all were represented. There was even a great tri-pointed spear, mother-of-pearl wrapping around its handle, sapphires set into the prongs.
“My favorite trident,” Krilene said with a dreamy sigh, staring at the weapon. “A gift from Ydros, back when the world was young.” She shook her head. “Maybe another day.” The goddess brushed past the pillar with the trident, gleaming in the evening sun.
Quentin let his stare linger on it for just a second longer before following the goddess further into the temple, Delaynie tight at his side.
When they reached the center of the room, Krilene halted. Her eyes swept the temple, piercing into the shadowed alcoves hiding beneath the high windows.
“A goddess has entered her temple,” she said, her voice ringing with the power of a crashing wave. “All those here, show yourself. Now.”
If Quentin hadn’t already been standing with the goddess, he would’ve felt the tug of those words. He’d learned enough about the gods from Mariah to know that their power on this plane was not limitless, that they could not grant wishes or command the will of mortals.
But it seemed in their temples, in the places where their power converged, they had a little bit more sway.
A group emerged from the shadows. Two were unfamiliar but wore the ornate cloaks that Quentin recognized as marking an officer of the Kizar fleet.
The third figure was very familiar.
Darius Draethos gave them a wide, smirking smile, hooking his fingers into his belt loop.
“What a gift you bring us, Lady Krilene. We’ve been searching all over the island for these two.
” His eyes flashed, tongue playing with the ring in his lip.
“They made quite a mess of things for us this morning.”
Quentin whirled, locking his stare on Krilene as he shoved Delaynie behind him. “What is this?” he snarled, not flinching as the goddess leveled her gaze on him. “You help us, just to betray us, anyway? To trick us into captivity?”
Krilene held his gaze steadily for a long moment before shaking her head. “No tricks, Armature. I needed you all here, together, for this. My temple is the most neutral place on the island, a place where I demand and maintain power to myself.”
A fourth figure strode from the darkness. The sunlight gleamed on his long fiery hair, his arms folded behind his back. Varyn Draethos, Pirate Lord of the Kizar Islands, halted in front of his son, but his eyes were not on Quentin.
They were leveled on Krilene, something baleful gleaming in the green. A muscle feathered in his tense jaw.
“Then speak. You know I don’t have patience for your riddles.”
Krilene turned her smile on him, saccharine sweet but with a biting edge that made even Quentin flinch. “None in your line ever have, Lord of the Seas. And none of you ever cease to remind me.”
Varyn rolled his eyes. Quentin wondered—not for the first time—why Krilene tolerated such dismissiveness from a mortal she could quite literally swallow whole.
The thought died when she continued speaking.
“I simply thought you would all want to know who he”—she pointed at Quentin— “truly is.”
His skin ignited as everyone in the room turned their gazes to him.
Quentin shifted his stance, further blocking Delaynie behind him. “What are you talking about?”
The goddess’s smile lost its sweetness. All that was left was a biting edge, showing too many teeth, and everything about it had Quentin’s instincts screaming danger.
He glanced sharply at the group of pirates. Darius’s face had leeched of color, eyes wide as they bounced between Krilene, Quentin, and his father.
Varyn simply stood deathly still, as if he were one of the pillars towering in the great temple room.
“Quentin of Verith.” Krilene’s voice rang out, filled once again with her wild, fluidic power. “I knew who you were the moment you set sail upon the seas. It is why I brought you here. Why I sank your ship and sent Darius to fetch you from the wreckage.
“You are the second-born bastard son of Varyn Draethos. By the laws of the sea, you may challenge your father at a time of your choosing, but before the year has turned, to claim all his rights, titles, and assets. It is either that, or your death.” Krilene’s eyes flashed with magic, shifting for a moment into a dragon’s slits.
“Welcome to the family.”