Chapter 62
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Theo had been right—there was pain. Unfathomable pain that pierced her entire core where the blade had divided her flesh. It lasted maybe a heartbeat or two, then faded.
She watched her body turn into a luminescent gleam. She felt the tingle as it spread all the way down to her fingertips like the whiskers of a field mouse dusting her skin. It was a welcome reprieve after that stabbing fire the bone dagger bestowed upon her.
Her vision started to go. Images of black and speckled floaters overwhelmed her. She looked back to see if Theo and Callum were still with her. They weren’t; she was alone.
The bone dagger was gone too. She rushed her hand to her chest, feeling urgently for the deep cut. She felt only warm, intact skin.
As the brightness faded, she looked up. Her surroundings had changed. She was somewhere new. There was no cave. Instead, a vast field of golden stalks lay before her, and between those stalks, a trail.
Is this truly Ures’s realm?
It seemed too simple, too calm for a renowned war god. The cloud-filled sky let the sun begin to peek over the horizon. It was morning here.
This was not what she had expected. Where was her trial? She walked toward the trail. She wasn’t quite sure where she was supposed to go or what she was supposed to do.
She felt her chest again, wondering where her fatal wound had gone.
Then she realized something. Her brand was missing.
She patted her neck, her arms, and her chest. No marks, or scars, or bruises.
She was entirely whole, nothing carved out or marred.
She laughed in surprise as she felt the familiar smoothness over her heart.
With the death of her mortal self, Dolion’s ugliness had been erased.
This had to be a farm. Small barns lined the distance as various animals grazed the golden pastures around her.
She could see herself living in a place like this and being perfectly content.
Far away, she spotted a modest house. It was not a shack or hovel but a brick home with a slated roof.
It was older, perhaps needing a few touch-ups.
The lavish gardens in the fenced front yard made up for any mediocrity.
She caught sight of a man huddled among the flower beds of snow-white, aureate, and magenta blooms. A man who paid her no mind, down on all fours tending to his garden, knee-deep in the dirt.
She approached him cautiously, feeling the uneven gravel with each step.
He was tall with dark skin. His biceps bulged as he pressed firmly into the earth. Dense coils of flaxen hair draped around his face, the same colored beard covering a good portion of his neck.
It was only when she was a few paces away that he finally glanced up at her with eyes that matched the golden vibrance of the sun.
“Hello.” His voice was comforting.
“Hello.” She shuffled awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to say next. “My name is—”
“I know who you are,” the man said with an unreadable tone.
Helaina tried again. “I’m looking for Ures. Can you tell me where he is?”
A low chuckle vibrated in his chest as he flashed his full white smile her way. He paused his work, making himself upright as he wiped the soil from his hands on his filthy trousers.
“My dear Helaina, you are looking at him.”
She was stunned, speechless even. He wasn’t a man at all.
He was a god—her god. She couldn’t find words.
Her body instinctively dropped to its knees.
She pressed her forehead to the earth in the lowest bow she could manage.
She was certain he was going to punish her for addressing him in such a common manner.
She was dead before she even started her test.
She felt a rough hand upon her shoulder. She fisted the dirt, awaiting punishment.
“Rise, blood of my blood. You bow to no one, not in my realm.”
She inclined her head upward.
He was smiling. There was no vengeful ire or disapproval she could find, so she did as he commanded.
“Your trial is in there.” He pointed to the modest home behind them.
She raised a brow. “Inside a house?”
“Were you expecting something grander?” He crossed his arms and tilted his head, examining her. “I am happy to conjure something that requires more brawn. I saw your duel with the skin changer. A fire drake, was it? I could conjure one of those.”
“The house is fine,” she offered rapidly, remembering the scalding heat of Breyer’s attack.
He laughed. “In that case, you may ask one question before proceeding. You may not ask what is behind the door, but if there are any answers you seek within the mortal realm, ask now.”
One question? None of the Divine Allura had explained this part. She would have liked more time to think about such an opportunity.
He kneeled down and gathered his tools, then started walking toward the house.
She followed.
Ures, the beloved War God—all the pictures had depicted him as mighty and ruthless, fully encased in golden armor with the ability to wield an arsenal of weaponry. Yet here he was in clothes no better than the servants’ within Oakmire. He was nothing like she expected him to be.
He stopped in his tracks. “You have thought of your question.”
She blinked at him. Of course he knew when she decided.
“What happened . . . back then. Why do the Hell Gods hate us so much?”
He regarded her in that affectionate way.
“It was my fault, I suppose,” he mused. “Valhoor was my friend—death and war have always existed together. He and Fessa had found each other first, but she was my bonded. My disbelief and doubt didn’t allow me to realize it until he had fallen in love with her.”
“Your bonded?” she asked.
“It was Brahm’s doing. A way to keep us closely connected to our creations.
All gods have one—only one. A mortal that calls to our very soul.
One that possesses the traits we lack, the traits we need.
They make us whole. It is an inner plea that begs you to be everything they need.
Not all of us discovered ours in the time we roamed your realm.
The ones who did will tell you it is a powerful thing. An irrefutable connection.”
Bonded, a fated partnership between god and mortal.
“I had no control over it. Valhoor raged at Brahm, threatening him, demanding he undo it, make Fessa his bonded. Brahm was never the type to undo his works. The connection had been made. She was mine, and I was hers.”
Helaina felt something deep in her chest that she couldn’t explain.
Ures brushed through his thick beard as he recalled his memories.
“Valhoor went mad, killing many of Brahm’s creations.
He was a dark bringer. Letting his shadow cast throughout all that Brahm had worked so hard to build.
Everything we had worked so hard to maintain.
And he took a new lover to satiate his jealous grief . . . the goddess Drayella.”
Helaina’s legs became unsteady.
“They both went against everything we had set in motion. Lying together though it was forbidden, out of contempt for the rest of us. Drayella always hated this realm, how her creatures were considered less than Brahm’s, less than her sister Adonna’s.
She was more than happy to aid Valhoor’s cause.
” Ures released a deep exhale. “So we did the only thing we could think of. We banished two of our own, trapping them alone in their individual realms with no way of seeking us out, or our mortal creations.” There was pain in those golden eyes, maybe even a hint of betrayal.
“But before we could unite our powers and send them away, Valhoor sought his revenge. ‘A soul eclipsed in moonlight,’ he said the day he came for her. Fessa’s day of birth was on the solar eclipse, you see.
It’s why he named it as his own day of praise and celebration.
He wanted her to feel guilt, knowing that the cursed soul he placed in my bloodline would help them return and destroy the mortals we loved so dearly.
He wanted her to think it was her fault for abandoning him. ”
Helaina was certain this could never happen. Even if Drayella and Valhoor both got their hands on her, she would never destroy, never fight for them.
“Accept who you are, Helaina. The curse, the guilt, the failures. Stop trying to run from the darkest parts, stop pretending they don’t exist.” He approached her and placed his hand over her heart. “Our darkest times birth our greatest strengths.”
He broke the contact and walked up the small wooden steps to the front porch of the house. He took his rest on a wooden rocking chair, lazily rocking back and forth. Waiting for her next word. Her next move.
She paused at the base of the steps, pondering the answer to her question and the advice he offered.
“May I ask one more question?”
He nodded without argument. “I suppose the bearer of my bloodline’s curse is owed more than one truth.”
“What was it like? To be with her.” She had to know who this mortal was that stole the hearts of not one but two gods. She had to know how the love of a bonded could be worth such a price.
A twinge of pain struck those eyes. He took a deep, contemplative breath. “I would endure a thousand deaths, over and over until the end of time, in exchange for one more day with her.”
Helaina’s heart cracked. She brought her hand to her chest in an attempt to ease it.
“Can you not visit her?” Surely the powerful gods they worshipped had the power to connect with those in the ether.
He shook his head. “There are rules even a god cannot break. And there are many rules when it comes to the living, the eternal . . . and the dead. I had her in her mortal life. Until her ebony waves turned gray. Until I lay beside her as she took her final breath. I had her then; I cannot have her in death.”
He rubbed his thumb on the dry wood, glancing downward. His mind seemed to drift, and then his eyes lifted to meet hers. “Your time is up, my dear.”
The door opened before her. She could see nothing past the threshold, only blackness.
“I would wish you luck, but luck doesn’t have much to do with it, I’m afraid.”
She gave the almighty deity a last once-over.
A legend of war, appearing to be a simple farmer.
A man she could pass on the street and not give a second glance.
She found it admirable. No fancy palaces or castles in the sky, just a man and his home.
The only thing missing was the great love of his life.
She proceeded up the three steps, hearing the creaks in each floorboard. She gave one final nod to her sire from so long before her.
Then she stepped over the threshold.