14. GLAMOURS AND GODS
“It was you?” I was half in disbelief and half in awe. “You stole the talisman during Lumeri?”
“I did,” Silas said.
A sudden realization hit me. “I-I saw you in the crowd.”
Niall looked at me with a raised brow. “You saw him?”
I nodded. I thought I’d glimpsed his golden hair and familiar face that night, but I’d written it off as my mind playing tricks on me.
“I made sure you were safe, and kept an eye on you from afar until I made my move. Once I had the talisman, I had to lie low with it for a while, so I took it to Neveshir while things calmed. I knew you had garnered the High Lord of Calledan’s watchful eye, and that he would take care of you in the meantime.
I could sense something between the two of you as I watched you dance that evening.
Mates are a thing to treasure.” Silas leaned forward and nodded to Niall, placing the talisman in his hands.
It was a simple, gold band, formulated to sit across the forehead of its bearer. There was nothing extraordinary about it—no exquisite detail or texture.
Yet, it felt other-worldly.
“How did you extract it?” Niall asked, trying not to seem as fascinated as I knew he was.
Before Silas could answer, footsteps sounded at the base of the stairs across the room as Aremis strode over to us, his eyes brimming with questions.
“Apologies for the interruption,” he said as he embraced Niall with a hard clap on the back. “Glad to have you back, Brother.” He smiled down at me next. “All of you.” Then his attention turned to the new Dionach, giving him a once-over.
“This is Auren’s Dionach, Silas,” Niall explained. The last part he tacked on with obvious skepticism.
Aremis flicked his eyes over to Remic, then back.
“Aremis is my second-in-command,” Niall told Silas.
Silas dipped his head in acknowledgement, but when he lifted it again, his brows were pinched. “You’re not like the others,” he said warily.
Aremis took a seat in a large leather chair next to Niall.
“No, I am not,” was all he deigned to reply.
He addressed Niall next. “Fallon’s awake, and Maeson is still working on Roirdan’s injury.
She says . . .” His voice trailed off at the sight of what Niall held in his hand. “Is that what I think it is?”
“The relic,” Niall confirmed.
Aremis’s eyes filled with awe as he beheld it. “How is this in our possession?”
I pointed to Silas. “He was just getting to that, actually.”
Silas inclined his head toward the golden band. “Karios tasked me with its retrieval and told me where it was being held.”
“And where, exactly, was it?” Niall asked.
“At the base of Lord Killian’s library. There was a chamber on the bottom level—hidden to the naked eye—where several objects of value were housed. The talisman was one of them.”
I snorted in disbelief. “There’s no way it was that easy.”
Silas shrugged. “Karios had his hand in this. Who are we to question him?”
“And no one saw you take it?” Aremis asked with genuine curiosity.
“Not with the distraction.”
“The urn . . .” I recalled the commotion. “You caused the urn to fall to create a diversion, and then you slipped away.”
Silas nodded.
Niall leaned into my ear. “Told you it wasn’t me.”
I had half a mind to smack his arm, but I opted for nudging him with my shoulder instead, keeping my eyes on the talisman, afraid to let it out of my sight.
“But there is something you should know,” Silas continued. “While no one saw me take it, I saw someone while I was down there.”
“Who?” Niall asked.
“I don’t know. They were wearing a dark, hooded cloak.
Whoever it was had already negated the wards.
They ported away the moment they saw me.
I assumed they thought I was one of Killian’s guards.
My wings were glamoured, and I had my swords—an easy misjudgment to make in the dark.
Regardless, they left the chamber wide open, so I didn’t hesitate. ”
“Old Magic,” Aremis said.
I turned toward him. “You think someone used Old Magic to break through the spell Killian had around the chamber?”
“I don’t think, I know.”
“He’s right,” Niall said, seeming to come to the same conclusion Aremis had. “When we were at Killian’s mandatory dinner, Vanir suggested Old Magic had been used to bypass the wards . . . And Ramil had been quick to shoot down the suggestion . . .”
“He was missing for a large portion of Lumeri,” Aremis reasoned. “It had to have been either him or his advisor.”
“Ferhan,” Niall concluded. “Makes sense either way.”
Aremis met Silas’s gaze. “You intervened at what seems to have been the perfect time. If the relic had fallen into Ramil’s hands, we would all be in a very different predicament right now.”
“Just doing my job,” Silas said.
“So I have a Dionach, we have the talisman of Lyceius, the prince isn’t the same as he once was, and the queen—” I stopped myself and glanced at Silas before speaking any further. He gave me a nod, leaving me the choice of whether or not to bring Aremis into this.
“And the queen is a witch,” I finally finished. “Why do I feel like this is suddenly happening all too fast?”
Aremis narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I’m sorry, did you just say the queen is a witch?”
“We’ll explain that later,” Niall said.
“Right . . . Well, in the meantime, we need to keep that safe,” Aremis said, nodding toward the relic.
I stared down at it. “How?”
Niall leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, holding the band up in front of him.
“My mother was particularly skilled with glamours. She glamoured this entire Keep one evening, after an argument she had with my father. When he tried to port back after leaving in a fit of rage, he couldn’t find the place at all.
It was as if it no longer existed.” He chuckled to himself.
“All that to say: I’m not called ‘Lord of Glamours’ for nothing. ”
“I’ve never heard anyone call you that,” Remic stated flatly.
I nearly laughed. “It’s a term of endearment from dear ole Vanir.”
“And a true one at that,” Niall tacked on. “What better way to hide something than to conceal it as if it didn’t exist in the first place?” He waved his hand over the talisman and it vanished from sight.
I put my hand in his open, empty palm, feeling nothing but calloused skin. “How did you—”
He clenched his fist and rolled his wrist, and the talisman appeared in his grasp once more. “That’s a proper glamour,” he said smugly. “Most can cast a simple glamour—it’s quite easy to do. But to truly conceal . . . that’s another thing entirely.”
I touched the talisman to make sure it was actually there, and it zinged my fingertips. With a gasp, I yanked my hand back, but I instantly had the urge to touch it again—to snatch the band right out of his grip.
My power stirred and whirled within me, opening an eye to see what had summoned its attention.
I was now wholly attuned to the relic’s presence. It seemed to be calling to me . . . begging to be claimed . . .
I wrung my hands together, ill at ease.
“What is it?” Niall asked.
“It feels . . . alive. Like it’s pulling at my power.”
Niall eyed the talisman warily, as if it were sentient. Then, he slid it into his own pocket of space.
I shook my head out, no longer feeling the pull deep within. “That was strange.”
“Just confirmation that it will answer to you when the time is right,” he said quietly.
I was startled as Maeson called out for us from the stairs. “Niall, Auren, we need you up here.”
“Go,” Aremis urged. “We’ll be here.”
Niall rose, clapping Aremis on his shoulder, and we headed for the stairs.
We entered the level above the main area, and Niall directed me down a long hallway that sat across from the corridor containing our bedchambers.
Several orbs guided our way, moving steadily alongside us until we came to a large set of double doors.
They opened upon our approach, and I didn’t know where to look first.
The room was well lit, with multiple decorative tapestries hanging from the walls, but my focus went to the two groups of healers that were stationed separately on either side of the chamber.
One group surrounded Roirdan, who was propped up in a bed that looked much too small for him.
The other group, and Morah, tended to Fallon, who was lying on a bed of his own.
Wooden tables stacked with bottled herbs and elixirs of all sorts lined each bedside.
Pestles and mortars were strewn about on both surfaces, while a steaming cauldron sat on Fallon’s table, wafting a strange, scented smoke into the air.
Maeson ushered us to Roirdan first.
“How is he?” I asked.
“Not good. The poison is spreading fast, and everything we’ve tried has failed to stop it. I can’t draw it out either. Whatever it is, it seems to have latched onto his veins.”
Roirdan groaned and shifted, as if talking about his affliction made it worse. I approached him and sucked in a breath at what I saw. His entire right arm had webs of black ink creeping underneath his tanned skin.
His jaw was clenched in pain as he opened his eyes to see us. “Remind me to never get near those fucking cats again,” he grunted.
I couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh. “Those were definitely not cats.”
“Looked like fucking cats,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut once more.
Niall shook his head, trying to hide his grin. He inspected Roirdan’s arm and raised a brow. “Does it hurt?”
Roirdan gritted his teeth and popped open an eye to shoot Niall a look. “What do you think?”
“I think it accents your shroud perfectly.”
Roirdan glared at him.
Niall laughed softly. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Yeah I’m usually the one to do that, but whatever this is, it feels like it’s eating away at my insides.” He hissed again and looked down at where the venom was creeping along his veins toward his shoulder.
Niall’s shadows spooled out and danced over Roirdan’s arm, assessing for themselves as if they were sentient things. One tendril reached out, but when it touched his skin, it recoiled back.
“Fuck,” Niall said under his breath. “That shit’s vile.”
I leaned in to look at it up close.
The black lines that shot out from the tear in his flesh reminded me of the same inky blackness from the nightmare I had not too long ago.
“Maeson . . .” I said. “Didn’t you say that the Alatyr has protective properties?”
Maeson looked up at me. “Yes, but that was pertaining to the Elder that wears it.”
“Didn’t you also say that the wearer can use it to call for help using Old Magic?”
Her eyes danced, wondering where I was going with this. “Yes . . . but that would require an Elder.”
I twisted my mouth up to the side, thinking out loud to myself. “Worth trying, right?”
“Anything is worth trying at this point,” Roirdan answered through clenched teeth.
“Sorscha?” I called out.
The house-fae appeared, eager and willing to do my bidding.
“Can you summon Amarna for me please? Quickly.”
Sorscha nodded and popped away. It only took a few moments before she reappeared with the Elder by her side.
“You called, my lady?” Amarna smiled, but it quickly fell when she realized what was happening around her. “Gracious fates, what has happened?” She rushed to Roirdan’s side and ran her hands over his arm, careful not to touch him.
“He’s been poisoned by some sort of venom,” I explained. “We were in Benmoor and Ramil summoned these creatures—”
“Cats,” Roirdan corrected me.
I gave him a pointed look before I continued. “Their teeth were coated in a yellow venom.”
Amarna shook her head as she assessed, using her magic to try and glean anything she could.
“I was thinking we could use the Alatyr to help him—to remove the venom.” It was a long shot, but we had to try something.
Amarna’s eyes flickered. “Mmm, yes, dear, there are ways in which the Alatyr could help. But I’m afraid I do not possess the depth of power needed for what you have in mind. Coaxing a dark force out of a living being takes significant power. And there is no guarantee—”
“I can do it,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Auren.” Niall stepped up and put a protective hand on my arm. “You spent much of your power in Benmoor. If you continue to use more you could risk a burnout.”
“I have to try. Roirdan would do the same for me.”
“Let me do it then. I didn’t use nearly as much—”
“No.” I pushed him back. “You’re still recovering as well.”
Amarna instantly frowned and looked over him with concern before turning back to me.
“My dear, even if you could perform this task, each Alatyr is bound to an Elder. I’m afraid you would need an Alatyr that was no longer tethered to—” Her words fell short, and her black eyes went wide as I reached into the pocket of space where I had placed the stone necklace, and pulled it forth.
Maeson’s jaw dropped open. “How did you—”
“I took it from Ramil when you were holding him back with your wall of fire.”
Amarna reached for the stone, and I coiled it into her small palm. “Then it really is true. Afsin no longer lives.” She clutched it to her chest in what looked like a silent prayer before handing it back to me.
Roirdan sucked in a harsh breath, his chest bowing off the bed in pain.
“What’s your plan, Auren?” Maeson asked.
I tried to ignore the worry in her voice. This needed to work. I wasn’t sure how much further the venom would spread before it rendered Roirdan unconscious from pain, or worse . . .
With the amulet in hand, I climbed up onto the foot of the bed, and knelt between Roirdan’s feet.
“I’m going to summon a god.”