Chapter 29
Nyssa
The floor keeps shuddering under my boots. Dust skitters across the obsidian. The vein of gold ahead pulses faster, out of time with my heart.
“Stop,” I murmur. Nothing happens.
Dreven’s gaze shoots to mine.
“Again,” he says, trying not to make it sound like an order. I think.
“Stop.”
The shuddering abates, and I smile at him with a nod, but then it returns. Tenfold.
“Earth!” Dreven bellows. “Show yourself.”
“It’s not Merse,” Fireman says as a creature made out of rock lumbers into view.
“Something is coming,” Rockman grates out.
“Something is already here,” I point out. “The Devourer.”
Earth shakes his massive boulder of a head. “Not the Devourer. Older.”
I frown and catch Dreven’s eye again. “Something else is here?”
Earth’s granite face doesn’t do nuance, but the way he braces tells me he isn’t being dramatic. “The First Law,” he rumbles. “Before gods. Before crowns.”
Brilliant. Exactly what I needed. An even bigger problem.
The gold vein at our feet brightens, then splits. The floor parts in a clean line. No rubble. No mess. A slab rises from the seam, black as pitch and carved with rows and rows of marks like tallies. Each stroke glows faintly white, then fades. The air tightens until my ears pop.
Tabitha exhales sharply. “The Ledger.”
Dreven draws close. “Of course.”
“What, dare I ask, is the Ledger?”
“Original law,” Tabitha says to me, her voice clipped. “It measures imbalance. It calls for payment.”
The slab turns its attention across us. I don’t know how. It just does. A line etches itself near the top. It glows, then fixes. A voice follows, flat and absolute, as if it has never needed to shout to be heard.
Breaches: three. Crown: misapplied. Dominion: disputed. Debt: incalculable.
“Misapplied?” I snap. “Try correctly worn.”
The sigil tilts, considering me like a clipboard with a grudge. Bearer: living. Status: Between. Legitimacy: unratified.
Dreven’s power tightens. “It will strip you if you let it.”
“Like hell,” I say, stepping forward until the glow prickles my skin. “You want legitimacy? How do I prove it? I am Nyssa Vale. I hold Wraith and Radiant. Shadow sits in my seam. The Crown is mine by taking and by right of work done. I have caged what eats you. This realm obeys me.”
The fog draws a breath. The gold underfoot brightens. The snake in my spine wakes, coils, waits.
Silence. Then: Authority: pending.
It moves. Not fast; inevitable. Lines reach toward my sternum like a pen choosing where to write. “Err, new rule. No touching without consent.”
Your rules are useless now.
“Okay, well, that’s not good.” It also explains why the realm didn’t listen to me before.
Order will be restored.
All eyes swivel to Tabitha.
She squirms. “I swear this has nothing to do with me.”
“Wait?” I say, hand up. “Do we trust her or not?”
“Yeah,” Dastian says reluctantly. “She isn’t possessed.”
Heed!
All eyes go back to the slab.
The Judge is coming. Await.
I gulp. “The Judge?” I really don’t like the sound of that. Judges are usually very… judgy.
“When?” Dreven demands.
When you least expect it.
Of course. Because why the hell would it be now when we are all ready and assembled waiting for it?
The slab vanishes, and the rumbling quietens down.
“I don’t like this,” Voren says.
“Me either. Like we don’t have enough to worry about.”
“The Realm going into contention is very unexpected,” Dreven states, sounding extremely put out by this.
“You think?” I snap as some of the gods who aren’t my guys quietly slip off into the fog. “Great. I guess we don’t have that option?”
“Nope,” Dastian says. “More’s the pity.”
“So, we wait,” I say, still giving Tabitha the stink-eye. “What else do you know about this First Law?”
Tabitha presses her lips together like she’s bracing for a dental appointment. “The First Law predates us and your Order. It is not kind. It is not cruel. It balances. When power steps outside its lane, it demands proof, sets a measure, and takes payment if the proof fails.”
“Payment how?” I ask. “Because I’m all cashed out.”
“Stripping. Binding. Substitution.” Her gaze flicks to my chest like she can see the Crown braided through my soul. “It can tear a mantle free. It can fuse you to the realm as a ward. Or it can demand that another pay your debt.”
“Another,” Dastian repeats, eyes a flinty amber. “Like who, exactly?”
Tabitha purses her lips. “A champion.”
I look at the floor where the vein split. It’s closed, but the echo sits in my bones. “And the Judge?”
“It will test. They are always the same in intent, never the same in shape.”
“Which are?” Voren asks.
She shrugs. “It has never reached that before.”
“What’s the bet it will this time?” I ask bitterly.
“I’m not taking that bet,” Voren says, probably before Dastian can.
“It’s fine,” Dreven says, his eyes boring into mine. “We know who you are. Now you have to know it, Nyssa. Now more than ever, you need to know it.”
“That’s all well and good, but that slab thing said I have no authority here…
.” My eyes go wide. “… which means the box… the Devourer…” I set off at a run.
If I am just some girl interfering in divine politics, that box won’t hold, regardless of the gods’ magic.
It was tied to me, and I am no longer tied to this realm.
“Nyssa! Wait!”
The fog clears as I make a path to somewhere I recognise. It doesn’t matter where at this point. I just need some kind of landmark to get to the box.
As I sprint headlong across the realm, a massive explosion rips through the fog ahead and punches the floor up under my feet. I hit my knees and skid, palms burning.
“Shit!” I roar as the void of utter nothing swoops out of the crater the explosion caused and straight towards me.
I flatten myself to the ground, staring up at it as it flies over me, touching my face with its icy cold abyss.
Making a noise that is half-strangled cry and half-whimper, I wince as it brushes over me, but largely ignores me, probably not sensing any power in me now that the First Law has been imposed and this realm doesn’t listen to me anymore.
It pours over me like night made liquid and then chooses elsewhere.
“Do not move,” Dreven’s voice reaches me over my pathetic noise.
“Really?” I grit out. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Duck!” Dastian yells and comes skidding past me on his stomach as Voren goes to the left.
This thing is monstrous and enormous. Fragment my arse.
I resist the urge to close my eyes and wait it out until it has cleared the airspace over my head. “Unholy shit,” I grunt as Dreven crouches next to me.
“Are you okay? Did it touch you?”
“It brushed my face,” I say, reaching up.
His hand goes to my cheek, cupping it, warming it after the icy blast. I catch his wrist and push his hand away. “I’m fine,” I lie, and push to my feet. My face stings where the cold skimmed it, but I’ve got more important problems than freezer burn.
The void-thing tears across the sky and then disappears.
“Oh, that’s not good,” I mutter.
“Captain Obvious, ladies and gentlemen,” Dastian mutters.
I ignore his sarcasm and start running back towards the fissure. That thing is loose on the mortal realm, and I think it’s done waiting for the appetiser before the Pantheon as the main course.