Chapter 42 Aura #2
“Should the Manchineels steal him from us, then let your son have my firstborn.” The strange words tumble out of Aura’s mouth as if they are not her own.
Her final seidr as a witch manifests.
“Aura, no!” She hears her mother chastise her from above.
No righteousness emanates from Isabel, nor is there a smugness in getting her way. Instead, relief floods her features as she nods. “Thank you.”
Isabel helps the Seer to her feet as they move toward the door.
“You could at least free us.” Aura confronts Isabel, who shakes her head with a grin.
“Even Lavinia forgets that there is more to the prophecy of freeing Skalor. To make equal upon a field of sunless roses, a willing sacrifice must be taken.”
The door clangs shut as it locks.
Aura spends the rest of the day chatting with Avina, who remains in disbelief that she has aided Isabel in any way.
Yet, Aura cannot shake the words whispered by the Seer–those concerning her and her children’s future, no matter how distant those days may be.
Several footsteps echo in the stairwell, but this time, they pass by Aura in favor of the stairs and Avina.
“Good evening, little Queen. Please forgive my lateness. I was waiting for a courier to bring me news.” Lavinia’s cheerful voice echoes through the tower, yet Aura remains on the shaky chair to catch every word.
“It seems the day of reckoning has occurred between my son and the great King Sigvid Thordsson.” Lavinia pauses, and Aura’s heart pounds with anticipation. “It seems Calder has conquered your husband.”
“Sigvid is…dead?”
“It would seem so, little Queen.”
She lies!
Aura teeters on the chair when its old bones can no longer support her weight, and she crashes onto the floor, looking up through the crack spread across her back.
Avina clutches her head, and even from below, she can see her nails digging into her temples. Wails from the most bottomless pits of the Abyss tear at Aura’s heart as her mother wrongly mourns.
“Don’t listen to her, Mum! She is a manipulator!”
“Now, now, little Sigvidsson. The adults are speaking.” Lavinia kneels beside Avina, brushing her curls aside. “So much pain you must feel. Betraying his respect. When his soul descended into the Depths, do you think he forgave you?” Lavinia presses her lips to Avina’s forehead before standing.
“To think your soul is bound for the Golden Citadel. You shall never see him again.”
As Lavinia sweeps from the room, Aura is already to her feet, struggling to get her short arms to reach the ceiling.
“Mother, she is an evil bitch! She has yet to truly confirm Father’s death. I know he is alive! Think, Mum, you are the daughter of Maeve. Use your wisdom!”
Exhaustion fills her mother’s tormented gaze.
Unlike before, when her mother was trapped in Scarwood Citadel without a window or bed for two weeks, Lavinia has developed a far more sinister plan of torture.
She and her handmaidens have been starving Avina until she can hardly think straight, and then tormenting her mentally.
Aura has endured agony witnessing this, and she recognizes it as the breaking point for her mother.
“Mum, please, I need you to trust in your heart that nothing can kill him!”
Avina nods through the despair as Aura’s door is unlocked, and the appearance of her captor forces her to release her grip on the ceiling.
“Hello, little Sigvidsson. I thought it prudent to remind you that if your witch seidr comes out to play, I will hurt your sweet mother. As you can hear and see, she is not doing too well.”
Lavinia strides forward until she is nose to nose with Aura, lowering her voice. “I chose not to chain her in place. Despite leaving her in an empty room, we both know she struggles with a melancholy that could overwhelm her. I would hate to see her take her own life.”
Aura slaps Lavinia so hard that the guards rush forward, restraining her.
“You fucking bitch! My father is going to tear the flesh from your bones!”
“Ooh! Look at that fire. Unfortunately, I am not here to dance with you, little Sigvidsson.”
Lavinia snaps, and her guards release her, leaving the room. At the door, Lavinia tosses her thick locks over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “Enjoy your evening with the God of Power.”
Aura’s face pales, and her heart rate kicks until she is sure she cannot breathe.
God of Power? But Lavinia said that I am here to motivate Calder. Why would Makt come to see me?
The sconces flicker and die, leaving her in darkness except for the faint moonlight trickling in through the window slits. Only her fury at Lavinia’s treatment of her mother keeps her alert and unafraid.
“Aura…” A cold breath tickles her ear, and she whirls around to face nothing.
“I can see why my son is drawn to you, love.”
“Fire. Power. Beauty.”
Aura stumbles into the center of the room, her knuckles whitening as she exerts every ounce of self-control to refrain from tapping into her seidr.
“Imagine what I can offer you—the power I can bestow at your feet.”
She turns around, now facing a ghostly Makt. She gasps at his wild appearance, from his hair to his leather armor that resembles that of a Salt Warrior. However, it's his smile that twists her stomach in knots. That curve of his lips is menacing, promising pain.
Nothing about Makt reminds her of Calder.
“Consider, for a moment, what the halvgud of strength and wisdom could produce if introduced to the seidr of power. My sons used to contemplate such breeding centuries ago. If only Briny and Maeve had ever allowed such a union.”
She shakes her head, backing away as he stalks toward her. “I will never join you.”
His laugh fills the space. “I've heard that too often, but it all ends the same. And I’m not even asking you to spread your legs. Though I wouldn’t say no to that either.”
Bile fills her mouth as the memory of Crystal’s words paints the broader image of him and his poor daughters.
“Calder and I will never agree to be your vessel!”
Makt backs her against the door. His ethereal hand swipes through her chest, leaving her shivering.
“You underestimate the power of fear. I can take the body of the guard outside your mother’s prison and then take her until she rips in half.
You would agree to be my vessel then. To save her the fate of my axe hacking her to pieces. ”
“You are a monster!”
“I know what motivates mortals! You forget, child, there are several halvguds I can play with, and almost all of them are now in Skalor. Don’t you think I can wrench a 'yes' from your beastly Father? I don’t need to read runes to know he would die before another man touches his little Queen.” He mocks her father’s diminutive name for her mother.
“Don’t think the Abyss doesn’t have legions of men who wouldn’t enjoy playing with Avina Bloodstone. ”
“Leave her out of this!”
He barks a laugh. “Avina is the perfect tool. But I don’t wish to possess your body or your mother’s. I want the one I created to escape this unholy prison where I have been wrongfully caged! The one destined for my essence. I want my son!”
“He will never agree!”
This time, Makt vanishes through the door. She leans her head against the wood grain, struggling to catch her breath, when the door opens against her back.
The guard enters, grasps her neck, and tosses her onto the cot. He straddles her waist before she can rise and pins her arms to the straw-covered board.
“I think he will. His weakness is his affection for you, love. Know this: I will defile you, Aura, and he will do anything to save your soul.”
“He knows better. He must save Skalor from you!”
The guard licks her cheek, leaving her retching. “I will barely have to touch you for him to become my vessel. He will come for you, and that will be the end.”
Makt releases her, traipsing out the door and slamming it behind him.
Aura leaps to her feet, watching him leave with a strange sense of peace as his words mingle with Isabel’s.
To make equal upon a field of sunless roses, a willing sacrifice must be taken.
Suddenly, the prophecy fully forms in Aura’s mind. Each part fits together like a puzzle, and she understands she has two parts to play to save Skalor. Melting the Iss Drengr’s heart and one more.
I am the willing sacrifice.