Chapter Forty
The Eye Of The Fifth
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Gallena’s Temple, Phaenon.
Kyra.
Naal’s still, sleeping form lay resting under a neatly folded sheet.
Kyra crept up to the four-poster bed, grateful that the floor below was stone and not wood, that there was no accompanying creak with each step she took.
What if Naal woke up? What the fuck would Kyra even say to her? How would she explain this? Why hadn’t she thought of that?
It had been surprising enough that there were no wards in her quarters to alert her of intrusion.
But then, would Naal ever expect anyone in this temple to commit this sort of treachery? Perhaps that was her downfall. Too quick to trust those closest to her.
With immense difficulty, Kyra swallowed the guilt that threatened to envelop her, and carefully, so very carefully, touched her fingers to Naal’s temple.
Earth magic surged instantly, knowing what it needed to do, where it needed to go, tethering Kyra’s mind to Naal’s.
It was nothing like falling into Kawai’s memory.
There were walls up every which way she turned, walls put in place for exactly this reason. To stop anyone from entering her mind unwantedly. Kyra was willing to bet that it would be impossible for an imperi to control Naal, if this defence was anything to go by.
But Kyra’s power was not like an imperi’s. Naal herself had told her that. Nor was she a mere reader of minds, if those with the gift were truthful about their calling.
She was the Earth Warden. The power within her was strong. So strong, in fact, that even the monster was subdued in this moment.
It grew stronger each time she used it. Bolder. If anyone could slip through those walls, she could.
Naal heaved a heavy breath.
Could she sense Kyra’s presence in her mind? Or did the intrusion present itself as a mere dream?
Kyra willed spectre-like hands to graze her wards, feeling for a discrepancy, a weakness that might allow her to pass.
They were as solid as the ground her physical body stood on, built hundreds of years ago and fortified with Naal’s wisdom as each year had passed.
But if the walls had been created by mental stone, a resemblance of the earth itself-
Kyra could break through.
She imagined it. Crumbling before her mind's-eye to nothing but ash and dust, stepping through the hole she’d made to find what she sought-
Then, exactly as she had imagined, it happened.
Those walls disintegrated into dust. She’d broken through Naal’s ward.
Kyra didn’t give herself time to think about what the fuck she had just done before throwing herself into the swirl of memories-
Show me the Eye, she told her magic. Show me where Naal has it hidden.
Kyra didn’t dare linger on any one memory as she combed through the pages of Naal’s life. It was a violation that she was even here in the first place.
Rifling through eight-hundred years of living, eight hundred years of memories, she begged her magic, Show me the Eye.
Then she landed right where she needed to be. She saw what she needed to see. And even through the memory, witnessing the stone had a feeling of hopelessness slinking over her like a cold morning frost.
Kyra withdrew from Naal’s memory, slowly this time. There was no Kawai to catch her if she should fall.
Darkness greeted her, and she half expected Naal to have woken, staring up at her with betrayal etched into every line of her wise face.
But the Air Warden slept on. Dreaming of the Eye of the Fifth, no doubt.
Heart in her throat, Kyra backed out of the room, not letting her gaze drop from Naal’s resting body. When she was safely on the other side of the door, she let out the breath that had gripped her the moment she’d seen the memory she’d been so desperate to see.
The Eye had been here the whole time. Fuck, she’d even looked upon it. Had felt the doom of its contents work its way under her skin as she’d beheld a room of despair and pain.
A literal eye, masquerading as one of Gallena’s own, watching over the crypts of the temple. Hidden in plain sight.
Kyra had to hand it to Naal: it was a stroke of genius. Who would question the piercing black gaze of the Air Mother? Who would ever know that Dohra and her miraqni lay squirming in their stony prison, embedded on the face of the Mother that was so revered?
And who would ever have fucking guessed that Naal Westerra had stolen the Eye of the Fifth from the Four Mothers tomb in the first place?
The crypts were empty, save the dead. No longer needed as a makeshift infirmary, for all citizens of Phaenon had been moved back to the city that was being quickly rebuilt.
Luck was on her side, it would seem.
Kyra stood at Gallena’s feet, staring up at the Air Mother’s unmoving face.
Unmoving… but even in the flicker of flame-light, Kyra felt she was being watched. Judged. As if Gallena was glaring at her with the same disappointment she’d imagined on Naal’s face.
It was so quiet in the crypts. Eerily quiet. Her own breath resounded in her ears.
She began to climb.
Swinging herself from the statue’s left arm and ignoring the throb in her slowly healing ankle, Kyra landed on Gallena’s palm with the grace of the lone wolf from the pits. The quick and nimble Warrior Queen of the Arc.
Except now she wasn’t stealing lives. She really was just stealing.
Rosary would have laughed to see her like this. Not fighting, but doing exactly what Kyra had mocked her for doing, over and over again. The thought of Rosary boosted her determination, for she knew her friend would have stood watch, no questions asked, if she’d been here.
Fingers gripping stone, she climbed up Gallena’s arm until she was standing on the Air Mother’s shoulder.
The infamous crystal was in reach. The Eye of the Fifth, right there, within her grasp.
She didn’t need to recall Naal’s memory to tell her which eye was the one she needed. The right one was dead. No more than solid, banal rock.
The left was alive. Teeming with chaotic emptiness.
Kyra looked into the depths of the Eye. There was nothing to be seen but shining, crystalised blackness. But what she felt…
The chasm of the Void. Threatening. Terrifying. And dark, but not like true darkness. Just… nothing. Desolate and utterly empty.
Suppressing a shiver, Kyra reached her hand out. The bargain would be fulfilled soon. And then she would never have to think about the Eye of the Fifth again.
Her fingers clasped around the cold stone.
Hissing whispers resounded in her head. No discernible words were uttered, but they pressed on her consciousness like a smothering blanket.
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. The stone had turned ice-cold in her hand, and terror rooted her in place.
Those voices were unrelenting, and Kyra knew what they belonged to.
The miraqni.
And through them came another voice, a female voice, as lovely as the dawn.
You have finally come for me, Earth Daughter.
The Void Mother. In her head. Her bones, her soul.
The lovely voice laughed softly. I knew you would come, she crooned. I was waiting for you, Kyraena Daeiros. They have been waiting for you for a very long time.
All of Kyra’s senses went black. She could not see, hear, touch or smell anything. There was nothing but that voice, everywhere and nowhere.
I shall let you go now. The smile on that voice drenched Kyra’s whole being with fear. But I expect I’ll be seeing you soon. Goodbye, Earth Warden.
Kyra’s breath came fast then, rasping and terrified. She stared down at the Eye of the Fifth and yearned to throw it, wanting it as far away as possible.
She was in way over her head.
Swallowing her revulsion, she forced her fingers to tighten around the stone.
Something shifted in the shadows.
Kyra stilled, heart pounding as her eyes widened and darted around the various vaults of Phaenon’s crypts, half expecting the Void Mother to step into the light.
Silver wings beat the lifeless air, and before Kyra could back away or hide, a female landed below her, that usually kept, red hair free and curling about her shoulders.
‘Sleepwalking?’ Zuriel asked calmly, though there was nothing calm in the intensity of her glare.
‘Yes,’ Kyra replied, casually leaning against Gallena’s shoulder, willing her racing pulse to calm. ‘Don’t wake me; it’s bad luck.’
Zuriel’s nostrils flared. ‘What are you doing up there?’
‘Cleaning.’
‘You are impertinent. Why-’ her voice suddenly cut as her gaze found Gallena’s face. Her own fell. ‘What have you done?’
Kyra’s heart missed a beat. Zuriel knew what it was she held in her hand. She needn’t have asked the question: she knew exactly what she’d done.
Before Kyra’s tongue could even untie itself long enough to come up with a response, any response, Zuriel had beat those great wings and now stood at the end of Gallena’s arm. Blocking her escape.
‘You traitor,’ Zuriel snarled. ‘I told Naal from the start that you weren’t to be trusted.
You are a juvenile player in this great game.
A murderer. I told Naal, over and over, how can you trust a girl who has spent the latter half of her life killing for money?
You have no honour. I saw that glaring in your eyes from the moment I met you. ’
‘You don’t know one fucking thing about me, Zuriel,’ Kyra said coldly.
‘But she trusted you anyway, against my judgement,’ Zuriel continued. ‘And now here you stand. Betraying that trust.’
She might have explained her situation to Zuriel.
Might have begged her to understand why she so desperately needed the Eye, that this betrayal was not a switching of sides, or whatever the fuck Zuriel thought it was.
But anger had rocked all logic from her.
Instead, she said darkly, ‘Get out of my way.’
Zuriel outstretched her hand. ‘Give me the Eye, Kyra.’
‘No.’
‘Give me the Eye.’
Zuriel surged toward her with furious intent, and Kyra had a split second to decide what to do. She knew she was outmatched. Zuriel was a century old warrior, trained by Naal herself, who flew and fought with the most skilled legion in the world.
But she, Kyra, was the fucking Warrior Queen of the Arc.
Maybe Zuriel was right; there was no honour in her heart. If she thought she was nothing more than a dirty mercenary, then that’s exactly what she would become.
And this… this was for Oslan.
Her dagger was in her hand in a flash.
Zuriel collided into her, forearm pinning her throat against the Air Mother’s stone face, whilst the other hand desperately scraped for the Eye clamped in Kyra’s fingers.
By the Void, she was so strong.
Kyra choked, trying to drag in a breath through her restricted windpipe. But Zuriel was like stone herself. Completely immovable. She knew the Eternal wouldn’t kill her, but a few more seconds and she’d be unconscious.
Zuriel let out a cry as Kyra sliced her dagger along her waist. A flesh wound, nothing more, but enough to make her recoil away in pain. ‘You bitch!’
Taking the chance, Kyra shoved Zuriel with all her might from Gallena’s shoulder and slid down the Goddess’ arm, readying to swing herself to the ground.
Air was beaten out of her lungs again as Zuriel slammed into her, knocking her from the great statue and onto the cold hard floor of the crypts. Stars erupted in Kyra’s eyes, and her breath would not come quick enough.
With embarrassing ease, Zuriel kicked her dagger away and pinned her other arm to the floor with her knee. And there was nothing Kyra could do, even as she bucked and struggled against the Eternal, as Zuriel Westerra prized the Eye of the Fifth from her hand.
No. No, no, no…
‘You will answer for this,’ Zuriel panted. Her eyes shone with triumph. ‘Maybe there will be a double trial for you and the traitor prince? Two faithless Wardens, that must be a historical first.’
‘No,’ Kyra whimpered, unable to stop her eyes from filling with tears.
She’d failed her brother.
Oslan would die a slave.
She’d failed.
Zuriel stood, looking down upon her with complete disdain. ‘You’re going to get up and come quietly. Naal will decide what to do with you now.’
Kyra watched as Zuriel pocketed the Eye of the Fifth.
And saw red.
A bloody, furious, unyielding red.
Rage became her.
She screamed, raw and deafening enough to wake the dead as undiluted power shot from her chest. A terrible crunch of bones echoed through the air as Zuriel was catapulted away from her. She landed in a heap on the floor on the other side of the crypts, limbs twisted unnaturally.
Utterly still.
That red haze faded as quickly as it had come, replaced instead by horror. The earthly power that had risen with her fury ebbed away too. ‘Zuriel…’ she breathed, sprinting to the spot where the Eternal lay unconscious.
What had she done?
Shaking fingers fumbled at Zuriel’s throat, searching for a pulse-
She was alive.
Kyra hung her head, sagging with relief as a sob retched out of her. She was alive. Thank the Mothers, she was alive. Tears spilled onto her cheeks.
What the fuck had she just done?
Zuriel’s bones were broken. Snapped. Crushed. The power within her had called to the earthly matter in Zuriel’s body and destroyed as much of it as it possibly could. But the Eternal’s heartbeat was strong. She would live. She would heal. It was likely she already was.
Kyra sat next to Zuriel, mind racing.
Someone would come running soon. There was no chance her scream had gone unheard, nor the blast of power that had shook the very temple gone unnoticed. There would be questions. Too many questions. Kyra might even be thrown in the ice cell with the Fire Warden for her crimes.
Violation of Naal’s mind. Thievery. Assault.
Two faithless Wardens.
She took a steadying breath, shoving a dreadful rising guilt deep down into a pit of darkness in her soul.
Then, slowly, she fished the Eye of the Fifth from Zuriel’s pocket.
Icy on her skin, it seemed to pulsate with an excited, perverse energy.
As if the prisoner within had known what she had done to obtain it.
Kyra swiped at her wet face with the back of her hand. Maida would fix Zuriel up. She would heal. She would be fine.
But Oslan… Oslan would die if she did not leave right now.
‘I’m sorry, Zuriel…’ Kyra whispered thickly, looking down at the Eternal’s face, her spiralling red hair tangled around her. ‘Forgive me.’
Her dagger lay discarded on the other side of the room. She picked it up and sheathed it once more.
Then she ran.