Chapter 14 #2
“I made a mistake,” he said. “And I’ve been paying for that mistake for a thousand years. What I did fractured the Red Ray. The part of the Valalumir that held the power to call their souls back. I separated it from the part that could heal the body.”
“You said the other night that I was meant to heal. That’s what the Red Ray does.”
Auriel nodded. “I did. And you are meant to heal. Heal the world. But I made the work harder for you—for everyone. Every day we went into battle together, and we fought, and every chance you had, you would use your strength, and you would use the Valalumir, and the light you carried inside to heal akadim.”
“How?” I asked.
“With the Valalumir itself,” he said. “After the Drowning though, when it shattered into seven pieces, that was when we learned it was the red shard that was most important. But it had weakened. When the light was whole, it could heal hundreds at a time. It restored thousands of souls. Anyone could wield it. But when it fractured and became crystal, and the light became part of you, it made you part of it. You became the only one. You became the fire.” You’re the fire.
“And if I had the red shard now?” I asked. “Could I heal the akadim? Could I heal Rhyan?”
“Yes,” Auriel said. “You could.” “Do you know where it is?” I asked.
Auriel nodded. “I do.”
I started to stand—ready to go get it this second. Wherever it was. I didn’t care.
But Auriel held my hand, and I sat back down.
“It’s not that simple. I gave it away. Before I died.
For its protection.” He sighed. “After I buried Asherah, I knew Mercurial had betrayed me.” He stood and walked over to the small table, picking up Asherah’s chest plate, staring intently at the linked Valalumir stars made of gold.
In the center of each star was a diamond mixed with blood inside, giving it the appearance of starfire. It was my blood—Asherah’s and Auriel’s.
“No one should have been able to open your tomb,” he said, his voice shaking.
“Tombs were never meant to be opened.” He shook his head, his eyes on me now, green and full of fire.
“But more importantly, you were guarding the indigo shard—even in death. I was positive when I’d constructed the tomb that no one could unlock it.
I expected that my soul would reincarnate.
But no one would have a drop of my blood. Nor would they have the key.”
“Except Mercurial,” I said.
“Except Mercurial. Because he stole this.” Auriel held the chest plate up, then cradled it to his heart, his eyes sad and wistful.
“Every precaution I took was to prevent this day from coming. To stop what I’d foreseen.
I didn’t know when. I didn’t know how long it would take.
But I knew one day, Moriel would return.
I knew his soul would reincarnate, and he would remember.
And when he did, I knew he’d allow nothing to come between him and the indigo shard. ”
“That was my fault,” I said. “We opened the tomb. We thought the red shard was inside.”
“I know you did. I know,” he said quietly.
“That was also because of me. When I left the North, I knew I needed to find another way to protect the red shard. Your shard—the most precious to me of all. Tombs could be opened. Items stolen. I wouldn’t bury it with me.
My only other option to guarantee its safety was to hide it somewhere, and with someone who would never die.
Someone strong. Someone who would never ever hand it over to anyone else—whether they asked, begged, pleaded, or bargained.
Even if they were an incarnation of my soul in the future. ”
“Who?” I asked. “Who would agree to such a thing?”
“The Queen of Khemet. Queen Ma’Nia.”
“The Afeyan Queen? The Queen of the Moon Court?” I asked.
The sun revealed my secrets, so I hid them with the moon. That was what Auriel had written on my tomb—on Asherah’s tomb.
My heart thudded, and suddenly I remembered hearing Asherah’s voice months ago.
Do not head for the stars. What you seek is with the moon.
Asherah had told me herself. And Mercurial had confirmed it.
But in all the chaos of the last month, we’d been unable to seek it out.
Unable to escape, to go South. And now …
now I was realizing that what Mercurial had asked me to do, all of this time, was impossible.
I was never going to claim the red shard. Not on my own.
Not without Auriel.
I started to breathe heavy, my chest tightening, something burning inside me. A fire. A fire unlike anything I’d felt before—not from Mercurial’s torture. Not from his contract.
And not from the light burning inside of me. Raging.
“What is it?” Auriel asked.
I placed my hand over my chest, barely breathing. “When Mercurial put the light inside of me, when we made our bargain, this was what he wanted from me. What I’ve known I’d have to do since that night. Fulfill a favor. Claim my full power. Claim the red shard.”
Auriel nodded slowly.
“And all this time …” Fresh tears burned my eyes. “All this time, the task was impossible. Because Ma’Nia would have never handed me the shard. Nor Rhyan. That was the bargain you made, right? Only you? Only you—your hand could take it back from her.”
Auriel’s chest rose and fell, his eyes turning red, as he looked away, the wheels turning in his mind. “Fucking realms.”
I forced myself to keep breathing, to try and stop myself from panicking, from realizing fully all the pieces coming together.
“Auriel?” I cried. “You said you couldn’t have come here if I hadn’t called you—if I hadn’t been in such despair, so in need of you.”
“That was the only way—and it was still a long shot that I even made it. Only because of who you were to me. Your soul. And mine. Because we’re mekarim.”
“You also said that if Rhyan’s soul was still here—you wouldn’t have been able to come. That you couldn’t be here at the same time as him.”
He frowned. “Yes.”
“By the Gods. He did this. Mercurial. He made this happen. He knew he had to draw you out. And there was only one way to do it. All this time, he’s been taunting us, teasing us.
Acting as if we haven’t been listening, haven’t been fulfilling our duties.
” My vision blurred. “But that Godsdamned fucking Afeyan! He’s been using us like puppets the entire time. Pushing us together—forcing us apart.”
Auriel’s eyes widened. “He knew. Fuck. He knew the bargain I’d made.”
I nodded. “He planned it all along. Mercurial!”
Light flashed in the basement, a thousand Valalumir stars sparkled around the ceiling, rotating in small circles. Mercurial’s aura.
And then he appeared right before us, his body nearly naked, blue skin taut over smooth fine muscles. A silver loincloth between his legs, golden sandals wrapped to his knees. His cat eyes peeked out from behind his falcon head. “So, you finally figured it out.”
“Mercurial!” Auriel seethed, his hands flexing.
“Ah, old friend. I’ve been talking to your newest one these last few months. It’s a pleasure after all these years to see you again in your original form, and—” His eyes dipped down Auriel’s body. “Back in your original flesh.”
Auriel was across the room in seconds, his hands around Mercurial’s neck.
But the Afeyan vanished and reappeared on the other side of the basement. “Uh-uh-uh.” He waggled his finger back and forth. “You’re going to need to listen to me, if you want to help Rhyan.”
“Don’t you dare!” I yelled. “Don’t you dare speak his name!” It was him! He’d killed him. He’d made him akadim, he’d set us up from the start.
Mercurial laughed. The blue feathers around his face elongated into silky, black hair that fell to his waist. He shook his head, and his falcon features were replaced with his usual more human-like features.
“You knew!” I shouted. “You did this! You did this to him!”
His nostrils flared. “I did what I had to.” He raised his eyebrows, peering again at Auriel. “As you can see, my little plan worked.”
“Little plan!” I screamed, moving forward without realizing it. I was seeing red, my hands twitching, fingers desperate to wrap around the hilt of my sword. I only had one goal. Stick the blade through Mercurial’s belly, and watch him bleed out.
He laughed, the sound bell-like, and disturbing. “You will kill me, my remembered Goddess,” he said. “You swore you would. But not today.” He lifted his hand, and pulled all the stars back through his palm. “You’d better go,” he said. “Quick. There’s company at the door.”
And just like that, a violent knock sounded above us.
I froze.
“More soturi?” I hissed. “I don’t understand, why are they back already?”
Mercurial smirked. “Why bother to come here at all?”
I glared at the Afeya—of course he’d answer a question with a question. “I know they’re looking for me. But they already questioned Sean and Branwyn.”
“Hmmm, so they did. Personally,” he twirled his hair between his fingers, “I don’t think they liked their answers very much.
Besides, old Seany boy isn’t exactly a native of this country—nor without a criminal record.
A false one created by Devon, but a record nonetheless.
One your current Arkturion would be more than happy to dig up. ”
The Bastardmaker. Fuck. But I had my answer. “It’s because he’s Glemarian. Because Rhyan was,” I gritted my teeth. “And because he was associated with me.” They’d be in danger as long as I remained here.
Mercurial nodded slowly, a feline smile spreading across his face.
“Exactly. And, they’ll be a bit more thorough than the last time—since they’re out of leads and ghost sightings of you across the city.
They’ll come down here this time,” he said.
“Tear the place to shreds. Having been named a forsworn traitor by the Emperor himself, your Arkturion’s big brother, I’d run if I were you, Goddess. ”
The knock sounded again, and I could hear footsteps coming down the stairs, light, and airy. Branwyn’s.
“Where’s Sean?” I asked, my heart thundering.
Mercurial laughed again. “Oh, Sean’s not here. He left in the middle of the night.”
“What! No! He wouldn’t. He was supposed to—”
“Wait for you to give him an answer?” Mercurial laughed. “No. Sean’s many things, but like Rhyan, when he senses a problem, he can be a little … impulsive. Couldn’t wait for you. Anyway, I think we both know what you would’ve decided.”
“No,” I breathed. “No.”
Mercurial shook his head. “Sean will find him. I promise you that. He’s one of the best trackers in the Empire.
In fact,” he examined his fingernails, changing the color from a cold silver gray, to a vibrant yellow.
He flashed them at me, then blew the color off.
“Sean was the only one capable of tracking Rhyan down when he was forsworn in the wild.” He laughed.
“Your little Emperor should have had him hunting vorakh, instead of Lord Tristan.”
I gritted my teeth.
Branwyn opened the door. I could hear the creak from above.
“Move aside, woman,” shouted a soturion.
“Excuse me,” Branwyn said.
“I said, move!”
My eyes widened as I realized that if Sean was gone, Branwyn was alone, and unprotected. And if the soturi were from Ka Kormac she was in danger. Not just for harboring us. But for existing.
“How many?” I asked Mercurial. “How many are up there?”
Mercurial closed his eyes slowly, and tapped his chin. “Five. I think you can handle that.”
I looked at Auriel, and he nodded. “Just give me a sword.”
Mercurial laughed. “I’m surprised. Not trying to ask me for any favors. For any help. For Branwyn’s protection. Or to get word to Sean?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ll do it myself. If you think I’m going to willingly work with you ever again, then you gravely miscalculated.”
“Choosing to work with me isn’t an option. You’re bound.”
“And Rhyan’s gone!” I shouted. “Considering my bargain with you was to protect him, to keep our relationship hidden, I’d say we’re done.”
He stepped forward, his hand on my heart.
Auriel started forward, rage in his eyes, but with a wave of his hand, Mercurial created a protection barrier blocking Auriel from reaching us.
“You feel that heat? That pulse? It’s not just the Valalumir inside of you! My contract remains. You think Rhyan’s temporary death ended it? No. It does not. We’re not finished here. We’re not until I say we are,” he seethed.
My eyes narrowed as I stared the Afeya down.
“One day I’m going to find out. I’m going to learn the truth about who you’re working for; who you serve.
And they won’t be able to save you.” My voice hardened.
“For what you did to us—to him—I will kill you.” I pressed my fist to my heart, pressed again, and flattened my hand across my chest. “Me sha, me ka.”
I expected Mercurial to look surprised or offended.
But he only nodded. “Oh, don’t worry, I already told you.
I know you will. In fact. I’ve always known you’d be the end of me.
” He tilted his head, the movement bird-like, before his eyes flashed.
“Now go. Save Branwyn. Oh, and Auriel?” The Afeya turned and waved his hand, releasing the barrier between them. “A word of advice.”
Auriel stumbled forward. “Advice is the last fucking thing I need from you,” he seethed.
“Tsk tsk,” Mercurial tutted. “Dare I remind you that one of us has been here the past millennia, our memories intact, and one of us has been napping in a tomb?”
“You know if you’re looking for rest, I can arrange that,” Auriel said through gritted teeth, his grip tight on my dagger.
“You really are the exception to the idea of things getting better with age,” Mercurial said with a sniff.
“I simply wanted to tell you that Queen Ma’Nia may need some convincing before she agrees to hand the shard back over to you.
Or even open the door when you arrive. After all, it’s been a millennium, and she’s grown quite used to the power she siphons from it.
You’d do well to remind her of the cure.
Remind her of the existence of that knowledge.
You know her feelings on that. Better than anyone.
” He winked, his body vanishing. His eyelashes floated in the void, before he vanished completely.
In the hallway above, Branwyn screamed.