Chapter 43 #2
The red eyes morph into slits like shards of ice. The voice that fills my mind is hollow and feels like spiders walking down my spine. The gods cannot rise if the Heirs remain.
An infuriated growl makes the hair stand on the back of my neck as the harsher voice speaks up again. The gods must die!
There’s a conflict of ice and lava within me. I speak directly to the eyes like ice, my voice shaking as much as my hands. “And who are you?”
I am Winter.
The younger, flaming voice laughs. You are nothing. Then to me: Stop the oppressors who seek to return the gods to their former glory. It will destroy the mortal realm.
It will refresh the mortal realm, says the icy voice. Balance will be restored.
Save the Heirs. The fiery voice reverberates, and I swear heat singes my skin.
I wrap my arms around my body as the fingers of Winter caresses my face before heat streaks across it. When the time comes, Winter cannot save you, mortal. It is Fury that will give you strength. And when the time comes, call to me.
“Stop!” I shout, turning to face the ever-changing figure. But there’s nothing there. No one there.
I stumble over to my desk and open the drawer, grabbing a vial of clear valbane with shaky hands. As it slips down my throat, I try to forget the voices. I have a mission to carry out.
Bring back the Shadow Wielder.
My heart catches in my throat as I remember the curly-haired woman from my dreams. She doesn’t seem evil, but she terrifies me nevertheless. She knows about the stone. She knows about the calling that I constantly push away.
The guards in the hallway ignore me as I hurry through the corridors.
I don’t stop until I’m standing outside a door with gold lettering that spells Library.
I push the door open and stand there, staring.
I’ve seen many luxurious private libraries, but this one is far grander than any of those.
My eyes roam over the floor-to-ceiling shelves and the foliage painted high up, close to the domed ceiling.
Once I’m able to snap myself out of the awe, I move farther into the library.
I browse the shelves, looking for a book about the pantheon.
Until, at last, I find one and pull it from the shelf.
I flip through the pages with the book braced against my forearm until I land on an illustration of a figure in armor, a fiery axe, and eyes that seem to blaze despite it being drawn only in black ink. Below the image is a word written in bold lettering.
Damarlach. The goddess of war and blacksmithing. Of revenge and fury.
I flip through a few more pages and come upon the image of a cloaked figure.
Magdin. Goddess of winter; the veiled one.
What do the gods want with me? Cold terror wraps around my throat, squeezing, and it’s as though I cannot breathe.
I drop the book and run out of the library, needing to get outside, needing the grass beneath my feet to ground me.
Two damn goddesses have been speaking to me?
Fighting over me? I’m stopped as I make it to a door that leads outside.
The guard stares down at me. “Sorry, Miss, we cannot let you out of the fortress.”
I can’t seem to calm my breathing as I turn away.
I’m not even sure where I’m going until I’m nearing the infirmary.
Neris. I just need to talk to Neris. But as I barge into that room, I nearly run into an older woman with dark eyes and greying hair.
She steps back, and my knees weaken, forcing me to press my hand against the wall to remain upright.
“Radika?” I whisper.
She holds a finger to her lips, then studies me for a moment before she says, “Ah, Gwyneth. I see you’ve joined the Zenith.”
“What are you doing here?”
She winks at me and steps toward the door. “I gave Neris one last healing before she was discharged from the infirmary.”
I glance around her and notice the empty bed. No other patients are in sight. “Where is she?”
“Settling into her new room, I’d imagine.”
My heart picks up speed. “Do the gods still speak directly to mortals?” I blurt out.
A smile tugs her lips upward as she faces me again. “I think you already know the answer. They may not be strong enough to walk among us in the flesh, but they find ways to communicate.”
My stomach flips uncomfortably. I have so many questions I want to ask about the gods, but I cannot push past the shock of this woman standing here in Paramount Castle. Why is she here? How is she here? Given that the Zenith also uses vanishing rings, was she a member of the Zenith? All this time?
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out something, which she slips into my hand. “Neris has her own now. These are for you.”
“How—?” I start to ask. But what question do I even begin with? How is she always in the right place at the right time? She’d been there when Neris collapsed years ago. She’d been there when I’d just barely survived the Cleanse. And now here she is again as I’m desperate for my elixirs.
She swiftly makes an exit before I can ask anything. The door is still swinging when I slowly open my fingers and stare at the small drawstring satchel in my palm. I open it, several vials of purple elixir clanging against each other.
Did she know this would happen? I try to wrap my brain around everything I know about Radika.
I once thought her to be a simple potion maker.
A healer of sorts. But she’s already revealed her identity as a Sorceress.
Perhaps she has the gift of divination? Something used for scrying?
My head aches and my pulse refuses to slow down.
I need to head back to my room and just breathe for a moment.
I’m halfway across the castle when Lynx steps in front of me, forcing me to come to a halt and tripling my pulse again. “The sovereign has summoned you and the others,” she says. “It’s time.”