Vikter once told me that he believed the mist was more than just a shield that cloaked the Craven. It was what filled their lungs since no breath did. It was what seeped from their pores since they did not sweat.
It never made sense to me then, but now, after seeing the Primal mist in the Skotos Mountains and again in Iliseeum, I had to wonder if Vikter had been onto something. If this Primal mist was somehow related to what surrounded the Craven.
I would have to think about that later, when the mist wasn’t filling the end of the hall, rising halfway up the walls. Inside it, dark shapes could be seen. Many dark shapes—
Arden lunged forward, taking off for the mist. “No!” I shouted.
But it was too late. The mist swallowed him, his snarling growls lost in the skin-chilling shrieks.
“Shit!” Kieran grabbed a fallen bloodstone sword as he kicked one over to Emil. He rose.
I grabbed hold of Tasos’ collar, pushing the weaponless guard back as Emil snatched up a spear with a bloodstone blade. “Stay back,” I ordered, not trusting the guard to pick up a weapon and use it on a Craven versus one of us.
A Craven shot forward—incredibly fast, and incredibly fresh. Under the blood-smeared face, the male’s skin carried the gray pallor of death, and shadows had already formed under its crimson eyes. But the black tunic and trousers weren’t ragged. Another broke free of the mist, letting out a shrill howl. This one was a woman, dressed the same as the man. Then another and another. None were missing clumps of hair or had patches of skin missing or hanging.
All had gaping, terrible wounds at the throats.
“Mother—” Emil changed up his grip on the spear. “—fucker.” He threw it, striking the male Craven in the chest.
The creature pinwheeled, falling backward. Another took its place as I raced forward, shoving my arm under the Craven’s chin. Blood-streaked teeth snapped at me. The woman…gods, she had to be my age, maybe even younger. She would’ve been pretty if not for the dark veins spreading out from the bite on her throat, covering the side of her cheek.
And for the fact that she was basically dead.
I shoved the bloodstone into her chest just as hot, burning pain slammed into me. Pain that was not mine. Arden. Yanking the dagger free, I jumped back as Emil tossed a headless Craven aside.
Delano leapt over Emil as the Atlantian bent to retrieve a bloodstone sword, landing on a Craven’s chest. He tore into it with his claws as I desperately searched the mist for any sign of Arden. I couldn’t hear him over the godsforsaken screeching.
Heart thumping, I thrust the dagger into a Craven’s chest as I let my senses stretch out, looking for Arden’s unique imprint. It was salty like the sea and reminded me of Saion’s Cove. I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t sense him. Panic blossomed.
Kieran cursed as he cut through a Craven, twisting as another bounced off the wall, rushing him. Shooting forward, I swung my leg out and up, planting my booted foot in the Craven’s midsection. I tried not to think about how it didn’t cave under the force like a rotted Craven’s would— about how this older male with bloody smile lines creasing his face must have been alive the day before. I kicked the Craven into the wall. It screamed while I rushed it, cutting the sound off with a direct blow to the head. I spun around, stirring the mist at my hips.
“Thanks,” Kieran grunted.
“We need to find Arden.” I shot past him, sucking in a sudden breath as a Craven grabbed for me. I ducked under its arm and then twisted, jabbing the dagger through the base of the creature’s neck, severing its spinal cord. I spun, searching the thick, churning mist.
Three Craven were on their knees, crowded together on the floor, over something once silver and white but now…red.
My heart stopped. No. No. No.
Horror propelled me forward. Grasping a fistful of hair, I yanked one of the Craven back as I jammed the blade into the back of her neck. Her
slackened mouth glistened with blood. Choking on a cry, I grabbed another, throwing it aside. Kieran was there, thrusting his sword into the Craven’s head. Emil shot forward, his blade cleaving through the neck of the third Craven as I dropped to my knees beside Arden.
“Oh, gods,” I gasped, dropping the dagger. Arden was breathing too rapidly, and the wounds, the bites—
“Guard her,” Kieran instructed as he dropped to the blood-slick floor across from me.
Delano pressed against my back as Emil circled us. I sank my hands into Arden’s thick fur, feeling his chest rise and then stop. No inhale. Nothing. My heart made a tripping motion. My gaze flew to his head as the mist slowly dissipated around us. Arden’s eyes were open, pale blue and dull. His gaze fixed.
“No,” I whispered. “No. No.”
“Fuck,” Kieran exploded as he rocked forward, placing his hand on Arden’s neck. “Fuck.”
I knew what Reaver had said, but I had to try. I had to because I couldn’t be too late. Sharp, warm tingles ran down my arms, spreading across my fingers as I summoned the Primal essence. A silvery-white glow sifted through the fur—
The remaining Craven wailed, the sound higher and louder than before. Emil grunted as I felt him stumble and then catch himself. A body hit the floor beside us and then a head. Channeling the eather into Arden’s body, I focused all my will on him. Breathe. Live. Breathe. Over and over, I repeated those words, like I had with the small girl who’d been struck by the carriage. The aura spread over his body in a glittering web of eather and then sank through the matted fur and into the torn skin and tissue. I wasn’t too late. I couldn’t be. Breathe. Breathe. I funneled every wonderful and happy memory I had into my efforts. Ones of Ian and me on the beach with the people who would always be our parents. How I felt on my knees in the loamy soil as a ring was slipped onto my finger while I stared into beautiful, golden eyes. My entire world behind my closed lids became silver and white as the eather pulsed and flared deep within me—
“Poppy,” Kieran whispered. Nothing was happening.
The shrill shrieking stopped.
Heart cracking, I looked at Arden’s eyes. They remained vacant and without life. His chest didn’t move. I pushed harder, hands trembling as the mist receded and cleared. Blood. There was so much blood.
Kieran’s hand slid off Arden and folded over mine. “Poppy.” “I wanted it to work. I wanted—” A ragged cry parted my lips.
“Stop,” Kieran ordered quietly, lifting my hands—my blood-smeared hands. He pressed his lips to my knuckles. “He’s gone. You know this. He’s gone.”
I shuddered as Delano turned, nudging Arden’s paw with a whimper. Anguish built in my throat, tart and tangy. It came from them. It came from me as the fur thinned out, and pale, blood-streaked skin appeared. Arden returned to his mortal form.
Pulling my hands free, I rocked back, closing my eyes. Tears burned my throat. I didn’t know Arden as well as a few others, but in Evaemon, he’d become my shadow. I had been getting to know him. I liked him. He didn’t deserve this.
The others backed off a little, all but Kieran and Delano. They stayed with Arden and me as I knelt there, eyes closed as the sorrow—ice, ice-cold
—and that hollow place in me—chilly and dark—heated.
“These Craven were servants,” Emil said, his voice rough. “Weren’t they?”
“They were,” came Tasos’ answer. “That’s Jaciella. And Rubens. They were both alive yesterday. So was…” Tasos continued, rattling off the names of those who’d served the Ascended.
“They did this,” Kieran said quietly. His anger, hot and yet cold, reached out to me, colliding with my building fury.
Running my hand over Arden’s arm, I opened my eyes. They were dry.
Barely.
The white aura behind Kieran’s pupils glowed vividly, and that taste built in my mouth again. This time, it throbbed in my chest, in my heart, and at the very core of my being. “Locate them,” I bit out, reaching for and finding my dagger. “Find them and bring them to me.”
 |
More servants had been turned, but they’d made it out of the underground chambers, somehow avoiding the sunlight. Valyn and Hisa had dealt with several on the second and third floors of Castle Redrock.
We’d been lucky to have missed them when we entered the stairwell. Until we weren’t.
I stared at where Arden lay, shrouded in white, next to the guards and the deceased Craven. I counted them. Eighteen. The Ascended had turned eighteen mortals. Some of them looked as if they had fought back. I saw it on the bruised knuckles and broken nails. The turned mortals would be given the same honor as anyone else.
Footsteps echoed through the hall, and I turned from the bodies, seeing Emil and Valyn. “Did you find the Ascended?”
Valyn shook his head. “I believe they abandoned the city.”
Kieran cursed as Emil nodded. “The bastards turned the servants, set the trap, and left.”
My lips parted. “How can we be sure?”
“We’ve checked all the chambers down here, and the homes near the interior rise are being searched to see if any are underground,” Valyn said, his features tense. “But I believe they left.”
Every part of me focused on him, and when I reached out with my senses, the shield around him was even thicker. “What did you find?”
Neither answered for a long moment and then Valyn said, “What I can only imagine to be a message.”
“Where?”
“In the chamber at the end of the left hall,” he answered, and I started walking, Delano close behind me. Valyn caught my arm as I moved past him. “I don’t believe you want to see it.”
Dread blossomed. “But I need to.”
He held my gaze and then released my arm, saying quietly to Kieran, “She shouldn’t see this.”
Kieran didn’t try to stop me, only because he knew better.
The hall was quiet as I walked to the open chamber, softly lit by several candles I could already see placed on the floor. My steps slowed as I neared the mouth of the chamber, and I stopped as I saw inside it.
I saw legs first.
Dozens of legs, swaying gently among crates of what appeared to be wine. Slowly, I looked up. Slim calves. Bite marks at the knees, the inner thighs. I shuddered. Wrists torn open. Breasts mauled. The gauzy white of a veil. Gold chains holding the veils in place—gold chains secured to the ceiling, holding them in place.
Kieran had gone rigid beside me as Delano pressed against my legs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think or feel anything but the stirring eather, the simmering rage. These people…these girls…
I pressed a shaky hand to my stomach as I saw the words on the wall behind them, lit by rows of candles. Words written in dried, rusty-colored blood.
All you will liberate is death.
The hand of one of the girls twitched.
I took a jerky step back, and Kieran moved then, curling an arm around my shoulders. He gave me no choice, guiding me from the chamber and away from the doors. I wouldn’t have fought him because that was…
Pulling away from Kieran, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
I still saw them, the bodies drained of blood.
“Poppy.” Kieran’s voice was too soft. “They will—”
“I know,” I bit out, stomach churning. They would become Craven.
They had to be close to it already.
“We’ll take care of it.” Emil’s hoarse voice reached me. “We’ll cover their bodies and then make it quick. They will find peace soon.”
My mouth felt too wet. “Thank you.”
There was nothing but silence as I focused on shoving the essence—the rage—down. It pushed at my skin, and for the briefest moment, I imagined it erupting, leveling the castle. The city. Even then, that explosion of energy would do little to assuage the fury. I swallowed hard, closing myself down. It wasn’t easy. A tremor coursed through me.
Delano leaned against my legs, his concern gathering around me.
Poppy?
“I’m okay,” I whispered, reaching down to touch the top of his head. I took a deep breath, opening my eyes only when I…
When I felt nothing.
 |
“Why did you lie back there? To Delano?”
I stopped at the foot of the circular steps of the Temple of Theon and looked up at Kieran. Back there. In those chambers underground, where Arden had taken his last breath. Back there, where the servants had been fed upon and left to turn into Craven. Back there, where those girls had been left with that message.
Back there had left several marks.
And I had a feeling there would be more that would cut into my skin before the day was over.
“What do you mean?” I asked, noting that Valyn had already climbed the steps, speaking to one of the soldiers. I had no idea where Delano had gone.
Kieran crossed his arms. “Poppy.”
I sighed, looking up at the entrance to the Temple. Valyn had walked ahead and was speaking with Cyr now. The large circular structure only had a few long and narrow windows. “I’m…”
I felt a little sick. Not physically. I was tired. Again, not physically. And I felt like I…like I needed to bathe—no, I needed to shower. To wash away the seconds, the minutes, and the hours of this entire day. I was worried and full of concern as I stared at the smooth surface of the black doors. I was also afraid of what waited beyond. What Vonetta and the others had found.
Most of all, I…I wanted Casteel to be here with me so I could tell him how I felt. To shoulder some of the weight. To receive some of these marks. To make me smile and even laugh despite the horror of the day. To distract me and take away the aching coldness.
“I’ll be okay,” I said hoarsely.
His gaze searched my features. “What they did back there to those girls?
That message? It’s all to mess with your head. You can’t let it.” “I know.”
Except it had. Because it didn’t seem to matter that I wasn’t the one who’d killed the mortals at Massene, the wolven or the draken, the servants or those girls. They still died because of me.
I squinted as the late-afternoon sun glinted off the shadowstone. I looked beyond the Temple to where I could see the golden armor of several of the Atlantian soldiers outside a grand manor. So far, all the estates had been free of vamprys. “Do you think it’s possible that all the Ascended left?”
“I don’t know.” Kieran nudged my arm with his. “But we’re going to need to be prepared in case they’re holed up somewhere.”
“Agreed,” I whispered. “We should head in there.”
“Yeah.” Kieran followed my gaze, exhaling heavily. “We should.”
Opening my senses, I let them stretch out. I tasted the tanginess of sorrow and something heavier, almost like concern. I tasted dread. Kieran wasn’t looking forward to what might await in the Temple. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.”
My eyes narrowed.
A faint grin appeared, a hint of teasing before it disappeared again. We said nothing else as we joined Valyn at the top of the Temple stairs.
“There are tunnels under the Temple,” Valyn announced, nodding at one of the soldiers I recognized as being part of Aylard’s regiment. “Lin was just telling me about them.”
Lin’s throat worked on a swallow. “There was a hidden entryway in the chamber beyond the sanctum,” Lin explained. “It led to a tunnel system underground—a pretty extensive one. There were chambers there.”
I had a sinking feeling those tunnels connected to the ones under Redrock, which led straight out to the cliffs. We had suspected upon our first visit to Oak Ambler that they were using the tunnels to move mortals about without them being seen by others. Which could also mean that the Ascended, if any remained, could use them to travel unseen.
“They were…chambers, Your Highness. But…” Lin trailed off.
“What?” Kieran asked as I opened my senses, tasting…tartness. Unease. “What did you see?” Every muscle in my body tensed. If they found anything like what we had seen in that other chamber, I didn’t think I could
take it. “Did you find any children?”
“Not yet, but we did find men and women in white robes.” Likely Priests and Priestesses. “Where are they?”
“We have them in the sanctum.” Lin dragged a hand over his face as I came up the steps. “The tunnels and chambers are still being searched.”
My hands curled into fists as two soldiers opened the doors. We entered the receiving chamber of the Temple, passing another soldier who stood off to the side, her features stark as she stared at the wall.
Beams of narrow sunlight streaked in from the thin windows and crept across the shadowstone floors. Dozens of gold candelabra lined the walls, their flames rippling gently as we entered the mouth of the sanctum. There were no pews. Only a platform framed by thick, black columns.
They sat in front of the platform. Six of them, wearing the white robes of the Priests and Priestesses of Solis. Their heads were bowed. Two females. Four males. Those who had hair wore it either shorn or pulled back in a lacy, white cap. The shapeless robes covered their bodies except for the face, hands, and feet.
A bald head lifted, glancing past me and then bouncing back. His eyes widened as he watched my approach. “I know who you are.”
I stopped in front of him, silent as the remaining Priests and Priestesses lifted their heads. The visage of someone I hadn’t given much thought to took shape in my mind. Analia. The Priestess in Masadonia, who had been responsible for my teachings but preferred to use her hand as a form of education. There had been a singular cruelty to that woman, and I didn’t know if those before me possessed the same vicious streak. But I didn’t doubt that Analia or any who served in these Temples knew the truth about the Ascended and the Rite. “What is your name?”
“I am called Framont,” the Priest answered. “And you…you are the one they call the Queen of Flesh and Fire. We’ve been waiting for you since before you were born.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Valyn demanded, having come up behind us.
The Priest didn’t look at him. He didn’t take his eyes off me as tension compressed my spine. I had a feeling I knew what he referenced. “The prophecy.”
Framont nodded as Kieran drew closer to me. “It’s time for you to fulfill your purpose.”
“My purpose?” I repeated. “My purpose is to destroy the Blood Crown
—”
“And remake the realms as one.” His words chilled my skin. Vessa had said that I would remake the realms. An almost childlike smile crept across
his rounded face. “Yes, that is your purpose. You are the Chosen, spoken of long before your birth. You were foretold. Promised.”
“What in the utter hell is he talking about?” Cyr muttered from behind me.
Kieran sent a quick look at Valyn. “The tunnels under Redrock—they likely connect to this Temple. They should be guarded immediately.” There was intention in Kieran’s words, one heavier than what he spoke. “They lead out to the cliffs by the sea.”
Valyn picked up on the meaning. The former King pivoted on his heel. “I want all of you to make sure that Redrock is secure. Check every tunnel under the castle and seal off those pathways.”
Within moments, Valyn had cleared the Temple of all the generals and soldiers. Only Hisa remained, and that was a smart move. Although Valyn and Hisa had ferreted out any members of the Unseen from their ranks, their methods weren’t perfect. We knew that because of the attack the Unseen had launched on us on the road to Evaemon. But beyond that, anyone who heard the prophecy would assume that it was about me.
“You speak of prophecies,” I said, refocusing on the Priest. “Of the great conspirator—”
“Who is ‘birthed from the flesh and fire of the Primals,’” he finished. “And ‘will awaken as the Harbinger, the Bringer of Death and Destruction
—’”
“I have birthed nothing,” I cut him off.
The smile grew, flushing his face. “Not in a physical manner.”
“How? How has a Priest in Solis heard a prophecy spoken by a god eons ago?” Valyn pressed, even though he already knew. Isbeth. “A prophecy that only a handful of Atlantians have heard?”
“Because we have always served the True King of the Realms.” Then, and only then, did Framont look at Valyn. His smile turned into a sneer. “And the Atlantians have always served a lie.”
Valyn stiffened and then moved as if to step forward. I held up a hand, stopping him. “The True King?”
“Yes.” Framont spoke the word as if it were a benediction.
The Priests and Priestesses might believe they served the gods, but they answered to the Blood Crown—what I was sure they called the True Crown. And what they believed about the gods had been fed to them by the
Ascended. Which meant that the person Framont believed this True King to be, was who Isbeth believed it should be.
And that could only be one person.
My upper lip curled as anger pulsed through me. “The Blood Queen spoke of the True Crown in her summonses,” I explained to Valyn. “Who do you think she would believe to be the True King?”
“Malec,” Valyn seethed.
It made sense, especially since she now knew that Malec was alive. A sudden chill swept through me. What if Isbeth had discovered where Malec was entombed?
Gods couldn’t be killed in the same manner as the deities who were held under the Chambers of Nyktos, but they wouldn’t be able to feed. And according to Reaver, Malec would’ve needed to feed more than a normal god. He would’ve weakened to a point where he most likely no longer resembled anything close to who he was. I imagined at some point he would’ve lost consciousness.
What if Isbeth hadn’t used Kolis’s essence to create the storm? What if it had been Malec? That sounded impossible, but…
“Keep a close eye on them,” I said to Hisa and then motioned for Valyn to step back several feet from the Priests and Priestesses. Kieran followed, listening intently as I spoke in a low voice. “I don’t know how much of what he said is true or not. But what do you know about how Eloana entombed Malec?”
“She used old magic—what kind exactly, I don’t know—and bone chains,” he said, and I suppressed a shudder as memories of the twisted chains of sharp bones and ancient roots surfaced. Nyktos had created the method of incapacitating any being that carried eather in them, bestowing the bones of dead deities with such power. I didn’t need to think hard to remember what they had felt like digging into my skin. “The only way he could’ve escaped them is if someone removed them.”
It was possible that Isbeth had figured out where Malec was entombed. I needed to be sure. Malec was the ace up my sleeve. It was what kept Casteel alive. “We need to know exactly where Malec was entombed and any other safeguards Eloana may have put in place.”
Kieran frowned. “Even if the Blood Queen had located him, they would need to get past the Craven. Which would be difficult—even for whatever she is.”
“And after all that time? Hundreds of years?” Valyn added. “He wouldn’t be conscious. I doubt he would remember himself, let alone be able to seek retribution against Atlantia.”
“We would think that, but he…he is a god. The son of the King of Gods and his Consort. We have no idea what he would be capable of if he somehow woke and had time to recover.” And blood, lots of blood. I glanced back at those in white. Framont still smiled as if a hundred of his wishes had all come true at once. There was no telling what the Blood Queen had told the Priests and Priestesses to evoke this kind of faith. “Everything he’s saying could be nothing more than mind games. But…”
“But we need to be sure,” Valyn agreed. “I will get word to Evaemon as soon as we’re done dealing with this.”
Nodding, I turned back to the task at hand while many things picked at my thoughts. Malec possibly being this great conspirator that the prophecy warned about made sense—and yet, didn’t. For many reasons. Starting with: what could I possibly have to do with him waking? When I asked Framont, he only smiled blissfully up at me. And with no one present who could use compulsion, I knew we wouldn’t get any more information from him regarding this.
Besides, there was something that felt far more important that I needed to deal with. I shoved all the other stuff aside for now. “I want to know where the children are.”
“They’re serving the—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Don’t lie to me. I know the truth behind the Rite. I know those taken don’t serve any gods or the True King or Crown. Some are changed into things called Revenants. Some are fed upon. None of that involves an act of service.”
“But it does,” Framont whispered, a glint of eagerness in his gaze. “They serve. Just as you do. Just as you will also—”
“I would think very carefully about what you say next,” Kieran warned.
Framont glanced at him. “Will you harm me? Threaten me with death? I fear no such thing.”
“There are things far worse than death. Like her when she’s annoyed.” He jerked his chin in my direction. “She likes to stab things then. But when she gets angry? You’ll see exactly what a god is capable of.”
The Priest’s eyes darted to me, and I smiled tightly. “I do get stabby. And I’m already annoyed by a whole list of things. Where are those given
over in the Rite?”
He didn’t get a chance to answer.
“We have two more of them,” Naill announced as he entered through the side door. “And they’re not mortal. They’re Ascended.”
I locked my jaw. “You had Ascended hidden with you?”
“Ascended serve in the Temples—serve the True King,” Framont said. “They always have.”
“You didn’t know that?” Valyn asked.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t around many of them,” I told him. “Who all knew the Ascended were among you?”
“Only the trusted.” He looked up at me with a sort of wonder that was really beginning to border on creepy. “Only the Crown.”
Then the Duchess would’ve known. They were a part of the Crown.
Kieran tilted his head as Vonetta came through the doorway, leading another Priestess. “Where is the other?”
“He wasn’t very happy about being discovered,” Vonetta said with a sneer.
The Priestess Vonetta had a grip on suddenly stumbled forward into a beam of sunlight. The woman shrieked, jerking back. Faint smoke wafted from her robes, and the scent of burnt flesh hit the air. I turned to Vonetta.
“What?” Her brows rose. “I tripped.” I stared at her.
Vonetta sighed. “She tried to bite me.” Grabbing hold of the Priestess’s arm, she yanked the vampry back and shoved her toward the others. “More than once.”
“Did you find any…?” I asked.
She gave a curt shake of her head. “A few others are still down there, looking.”
“I’ll show you.” A female Priestess spoke up, and my head snapped in her direction. “I’ll take you to them.”
