Chapter 28
A valley steeped in death: That’s where my willow awaited me.
My insides twisted as I surveyed the treeless wasteland, the stench of parched soil in the air.
This place? This place was not intended for the living.
I felt it in my bones, in my teeth, clear down in my marrow.
I edged toward the willow, set to hide beneath its branches, but it—it moved.
I took another step closer and it shuddered farther away, the same way the trees surrounding Chaos’s death had.
My chest tightened. That can’t be good …
I leapt forward this time, the ground beneath me shaking as my feet touched back down.
An unnatural, heavy quake ricocheted into the empty space.
I turned in search of the cause and my heart sank into my toes.
Another Ancient Lore.
The beast galumphed through the outskirts of the barren land, searching. No … hunting. It hunched over clenched knuckles like an ape, though it in no way resembled a harmless primate. The ground shook with each step it took, and I had nowhere to run.
“Please,” I begged the willow, taking a step toward its illuminated branches. This time it stayed put, and I receded into its branches knowing full well I’d be found.
It’s okay, you’re okay. Maybe it’ll move on …
But in case it didn’t, I needed to know what I was up against. I peeked out to find the beast had drifted closer.
Foot-long claws protruded from its hands, an overbite of slender teeth matching their intensity.
My stomach twisted. I’d thought Chaos was foul, but this?
Hideous. It was massive, its skin stretched far past capacity, every bone and joint protruding as if they might burst through the skin at the slightest turn.
The creature froze and time stood still as its head panned across the open space … settling on me.
Shit …
It reached me in a couple wide leaps, a feral expression on its face similar to what a lion might look like after a summer of hunger. It threw me to the ground, grinding me under its weight, and the flesh on my palms peeled back against the hard dirt. I was pinned.
The fragrance of rotten milk hung on its breath as it leaned down to whisper, “Gotcha.”
I searched the area in frantic bursts, but of course there were no rocks, no sticks, nothing to defend myself with. I was at the beast’s mercy.
“She thought she could run,” it snickered. “Thought she could hide. But she thought wrong.”
I closed my eyes, attempting to focus my magic as I’d done with Chaos, but every attempt failed. Please, help me, I begged, but was returned with only silence. Why wouldn’t my light listen? A click, click, click tickled my ears and I looked up in horror.
There, dangling on a bloodied nail bed, hung my talisman, the beast’s nasty talon clicking against it. “Missing something is she?”
I lunged.
“Ah, ah!” It yanked my pendant from reach. “She is rude. How dare she interrupt my meal.”
Blackened and decayed teeth encased my vision, and I braced my hands against the monstrosity’s forehead, awaiting the inevitable crunch of jaws around my skull.
Its body stilled beneath my hold, every ounce of fight leaving it.
I peeked between squinted lids to find the creature’s once disturbed smile to be little more than a thin line, all emotion drained from its face.
It just sat there, mindless. An unnatural light shimmered across my ring, and I grinned.
The protection spell, it’d worked after all!
Move quickly. A blessed item won’t hold a Lore for long, my omnipotent helper called.
This was it—my chance for answers. I slid out from under the beast, but made sure not to break contact, keeping the ring pressed to its temple as I asked my first question. “What do you want with me?”
“Not me. Us,” it muttered.
“Us? Who is us?”
“The Lores. In retribution for our brother Chaos and to honor our queen.” Its claws clenched in the dirt, attempting to fight through the spell.
I knew damn well why the Lores wanted me, but Bethesda? “Why does your queen want me?”
“You are the thing that threatens her new world order.”
I swallowed hard. “Me? How?”
“I know not.” The creature’s pupils flickered.
“I said, how? How am I going to effect a new world order?”
Again, it repeated, “I know not.”
Your hold is waning, pick your questions carefully.
In time with my silent helper’s words, my attention caught a step behind the hunched Lore, on a white wisp. He’d come to protect me, to save me again. My muscles relaxed, his name slipping through my lips. “Leeran.”
“Deception,” the beast corrected.
I reeled back to the monster. “What did you just say?”
“Deception. Not Leeran.”
No … it couldn’t be. My nails dug into my palms. “Explain.”
Its pupils flickered. “Deception: brother to Chaos, myself, and the other Ancient Lores born before humanity.”
Chills shot up the back of my neck. No … no! He’d shown me visions of our past and the life we lived together. He’d—he’d saved me! There’s no way he could be Deception, I would have seen it, felt it or—my vision blurred with hot tears.
You have to go now. The spell is deteriorating!
But my feet wouldn’t run; my body wouldn’t move. I’d become a prisoner in my own head. How had I let this happen? How hadn’t I seen it? The white wisp drew closer, light rolling through it as it prepared to take its true form. Or rather, its alternate facade.
What small breakthroughs I’d made in the past few days turned to utter regret. I’d been fooled, tricked, and now there I was, set to be not one Lore’s meal but two. And so, I asked the one question I had left in me as the spell faded, holding on to whatever minimal power I still possessed.
Fingers buried in the monster’s stretched flesh, I asked in a hush, “What’s your name?”
“Famine.” With that, it returned to the fuming tyrant it was, leapt forward, and—
A piercing cry shattered the open air, Famine kicking and screaming in a withering ball of anguish. “It hurts, it hurts!”
My talisman fell to the dirt at its feet.
“Finish him,” a familiar voice yelled.
I shot my head up, my mouth turning to sandpaper. “Cillian?”
“You have to finish him, now!”
I dove for the moonstone, wound its chain up around my fingers, and focused on the light building in my center.
Fire devoured my hands and with a well-placed punch against Famine’s iron jaw, the Lore exploded into bits of smoking flesh.
The beast riled, charred flaps of skin hanging from the half of its head still intact.
It lunged again, but sloppily enough that I could slide in behind it.
Light in my hand solidified, my fist landed directly between the monstrosity’s shoulder blades, sending it crumpling to the ground, motionless.
Dead. I fell to my knees, heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Essence, my helper reminded me.
I didn’t dare to look Cillian’s way. Didn’t ask how or why.
Instead, I shuffled my feet through the bloodied mess, pushed the bits and chunks aside until I found the heart.
Beating—though barely—I grasped it in my hands and squeezed, a thick ooze pouring out between my fingers until nothing but the stone remained.
Cobalt blue and illuminated: the essence of Famine.
The same cries I’d heard upon Chaos’s death echoed through the Shroud.
“Fey,” Cillian said, gently this time. “You have to wake up.”
Still, I avoided his gaze, shock setting in and turning my veins to ice.
“Fey …”
“Give me a second, all right? It’s not that easy!” I snapped.
The air settled. The Lores’ cries halted, a new sound carrying on the wind … are those … wings?
A murder of crows circled the open field and descended one by one, knitting themselves together before my eyes. On instinct, I dug my heels in and tossed Cillian the essence stone. He didn’t question me, tucking the stone in his pocket before turning to face the incoming threat.
It was then I felt her: the Ancient Lores’ queen, built of feather and talon.
Cloaked in her usual violet garb, she sauntered between Cillian and I. Slow as a leeching fog, she swept about Famine’s remains, and though her face remained indecipherable behind her hood, I didn’t doubt the rage I’d find there. I could feel it radiating off her, the wind heating in kind.
She leaned down not ten feet from my position, dipped her hand in the hollow spot where Famine’s heart once laid, and sheets of ash began to peel off her cloak.
The embers rose, obscuring her almost entirely from view.
Heat built and built in the air, the sensation like coals burning in my lungs.
On my skin. In my blood. Her head snapped in my direction as she seemingly called the ash back to her, each piece funneling up her cloaked sleeves.
“You!” She seethed. “You have disgraced my soldiers for the last time.”
A wraith-like shriek escaped her, making both Cillian and I clap our hands over our ears, eyes locked on one another as Bethesda’s cloak shifted into solid, violet flame.
Cillian broke into a mad dash, trying to get to me, but a simple look from her sent him crashing to his knees.
She swept toward him and hovered above, ready to strike a killing blow.
Seeing him there, a stone’s throw away from death, awoke something in me. My magic cried out. The elements in me solidified, turned to flame as strong and sharp as iron in my hand. I was behind her in a second, pressing the blade to her chest. “Don’t move.”
A sick and twisted laugh shook her shoulders. “You dare challenge me? Have you never heard the saying, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? I will eat you alive!”
Faster than I could decipher, react, or recoil, her fiery hand latched around my forearm, forcing me to drop my sword.
With a single touch, my blood boiled in my veins, visions of teeth, death, and destruction encasing my vision and cutting me off from the world around me. Shrouded in darkness, I riled.
“You will return the bloodstone to me,” she snarled from somewhere outside the chaos.
“Should you continue to deny me what is mine, I will see to your torture. Rest assured if you disobey my orders, the mark I leave with you shall see you devoured by your own madness. You will be left with nothing, for you are nothing. The last thing you’ll see before darkness claims your soul will be me: Bethesda, Queen of Lore. ”
With a final squeeze, she threw me to the ground and flitted off in a burst of wings and shadow. In her wake she left but one thing.
A vertical eye branded atop my arm.