27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

A ya stared at Honoria and Marisol's books heaped in the corner of the living room, trying—and failing—to ignore the conversation she had with Elaine. To forget the look in her eyes, how willing Elaine was to sacrifice herself.

She knew exactly what that look meant and it fucking terrified her.

Her nails bit four half-moons into her palm, droplets of blood blooming along her skin. Ideas came and went, some returning with lingering persistence. They took root, burrowing until one claimed dominion and she knew what she had to do. Blood pounded in her ears, a drum beckoning her out of the house and into the woods.

Deep shadows enveloped her, a blanket of comfort against her nerves.

The warm afternoon breeze brushed against her skin. Tiny pillars of sunlight lanced through the leaves, dancing among the shifting shadows, fractured across the leaf litter. The damp, earthen notes perfumed every breath, and tangled with hints of the wildflowers. Little birds flittered among the branches, little flashes of movement giving Aya comfort. A reminder she wasn't alone, and these were her woods, where she belonged, where she could trust herself.

And it was instinct that led her to her favorite clearing. She knelt among the softened earth and damp grass. Her wings spread out lazily behind her, soaking in the sun. She closed her eyes, turning her focus in. A single name breathed from her lips, swept into the woods to be devoured by the wind and rustling leaves.

"Akaria."

The breeze turned icy, but no answer came. She called out once more, and this time, let the shadows flare from her body. A burst of energy shot out into the woods, carrying her words.

"We need to talk."

Sunlight vanished in a blink around her, the clearing turning dark. Her eyes flew open. Shadows stretched out from the tree line, beckoning with it, a single ghostly figure.

The Goddess of Death had arrived.

Aya stilled. She'd expected to be drawn into a vision, not to see a specter of the goddess before her. A lump formed in her throat.

"I don't have long," Akaria said, glancing toward the sky. "Much attention is on this place now."

"I can accept your deal, but I need something in return."

"Oh?" A little interest sparked in Akaria's voice.

Aya rose to her feet, absently brushing her pants clean. "When we free your lover, I'm going to need more power. Enough to bring everyone back all at once."

Akaria tilted her head in the way one might examine a puzzle. "Your family will not train you?"

Shame burned her cheeks, the truth like poison upon her lips. Fear was her companion when it came to her family, eager to rub salt into old wounds. She wanted to reconnect with them, the ache burning deep in her bones, but the idea of being spurned, losing them a second time, left her shying away.

"It's complicated." Aya peered into woods as her mother's face burst through her mind. Tiny barbs pricked her heart.

"Pain is—"

Ice speared Aya's chest. "If you want my help to free your lover, I advise you not to finish that sentence."

"Bold," Akaria crooned. "Few would be so against a goddess."

"Yeah, well, my opinions of deities can't be any lower, so…" It was then Aya fixed her focus back upon the goddess and straightened up, refusing to show an inch of weakness before her. "What is your decision?"

A smile pulled at Akaria's mouth, but it didn't quite touch her eyes as she spoke. "I accept. When Aurora is freed, I shall grant my strength to you for an hour and once you have resurrected the people of Purgatory, I shall return all necromancers killed in the great attack to you. Your family included."

Aya carefully concealed her face as she lifted out a dagger and slashed her palm. As blood dribbled onto the grass, she held out her hand. If Sabra or Tobias or even Elaine knew what she had planned, the gamble she was taking, they would scold her. But if she was going to keep them safe, then she had to bide her tongue, not willing to risk that the wrong person figured out what she had planned.

"You have a deal."

Akaria's ghostly hand slid over hers and light exploded behind Aya's eyes.

She began to scream.

She stumbled back to the house and quickly washed her wound under the pump outside. The sting flared along her palm as she hurried inside to Tobias's old office. She moved straight to the back of the room where she knew the bandages were stashed. In her clumsy attempt, she knocked against some tiny vials. They rattled across the table. Curses spilled from her lips as she scrambled to catch them before they hit the ground. More blood dripped across the floor.

So much for not making a mess.

"Do I even want to ask?" Tobias drawled.

She glanced up. He leaned against the door frame, the edge of his mouth twisted into a bemused smirk. A beat of silence passed between them. Aya straightened up, warmth crowding her cheeks. She reached for the bandage—his hand closed over it first, the other taking hold of her bloodied one.

"What happened?"

"I accepted Akaria's deal."

The scraps of the truth she could tell, all whilst carefully omitting the rest.

"I see." Tobias stared at her for a moment before he pushed forward with a sigh. "Sit on the table."

Feeling like a scolded child, she did as she was told. Whenever he used that voice, she wasn't able to argue with him. She pressed the bandage to her palm, watching him warily as he moved about the room. Piece by piece, he laid out what he needed to stitch her palm up. When he finished, he returned with a bottle of what stunk of cheap, clear alcohol.

Without argument, she held out her palm. Tobias moved with a steadiness she envied, ensuring he cleaned the needle first before he set to work on the wound.

"Never thought that I would see the day you would strike a deal with a goddess," Tobias murmured as he slid the needle in and out of her skin. "Didn't think you'd trust them."

"I don't."

Tobias peered at her from beneath his lashes. "Hmm."

A quiet understanding dawned between them. Tobias remained quiet as he finished and quietly packed up his equipment. Her heart pounded in her chest. Had she shown too much?

"Are you sure about this?" Tobias leaned against his bench and gazed at her with a piercing intensity she swore cut through all her defenses. "What about Elaine—"

"Cannot know for the moment."

"But you will tell her, right?"

"Of course."

They both knew she was lying.

Aya returned with Tobias and Alexios, along with several dozen vampires, to the ruins. The bodies were carefully extracted, one by one, and gently placed upon wagons. Restless horses pawed at the ground, as if they, too, sensed the death in the air. Aya remained at the edge of the room, out of everyone's way, as they emptied out the chamber.

Once the last body was removed from the room, she took her chance to wander freely. No one lingered around or asked why she was staying behind. This time, she was glad they were scared of her.

Without the bodies, the stone tables looked odd. Incomplete. She paused as she beheld a symbol emblazoned on each. The sigil of Vesmir. What the symbol of the royal family was doing in Purgatory baffled her. How were they entangled into all of this? The questions twisted within her as she pressed her palm onto the mark. No magic answered. It was just that, a sigil carved in stone. Perhaps decorative now, having lost whatever magic it might've once held long ago.

All for a resurrection.

She wondered who.

"I made some inquiries," said Alexios.

Aya flinched. She was sure he'd left with the others.

"You didn't—"

Tobias was by his side, smiling softly, though it was Alexios who spoke. "I was just as curious as you. Now, records going back to the early days of Purgatory are thin at best. Depending on who you ask, there is debate about who the original locals were. Some say syrens, others humans. One even said a handful of banshees were."

"Not vampires?" she replied wryly.

Alexios threw her an arched look, as if the idea offended him. "My people would not be so careless with their records."

She knew that, had seen the extensive library Calix kept. Thousands of books and scrolls, documenting everything from family lines of those like him who were born vampires, and those who were turned. It had been one of the things he valued more than nearly anything else.

"So where does that leave us on who might've been resurrected?" Tobias muttered. "Because someone mutilated all these bodies for what we're assuming is to find Aurora's resting place. Given we're all still very much alive, either they found her and can't get to her, or the person they brought back has no idea."

"Either gives us time," said Aya, pushing off the wall. She tried not to think about the deal she'd struck, or the uneasy feeling that Akaria was playing a very different game. One somehow entangled with the room she was stuck in and the knowledge someone other than a necromancer brought someone back. Pieces on a board, sliding into place.

But who was the other player? Who worked with Honoria and Marisol?

An idea sparked in her chest, loathe as she was to try it. Poison pooled in her mouth, bitter and sliding down her throat until it twisted into knots. She released a soft string of curses, her gaze unfocused for a moment. Blinking several times, she realized the other two were watching her.

"I might be able to figure out who they brought back. Maybe." She waved a frustrated hand. "I need to speak with my people."

The pair shared a long look. Aya read it instantly.

"I'll be fine."

"What if they don't want to see you?" Tobias said. "It didn't sound like they would—"

She slanted him a hard look. "I'll handle it."

It was the last place she wanted to be.

As the thread in her chest guided her to the afterlife, Aya tried to ignore the anxiety clawing at her ribs. She could do this. It was fine. Her parents only believed she'd betrayed her entire people by falling in love with a witch. Simple. An easy fix.

The darkness bled away.

She was once more in the sprawling meadow, warm sunshine alighting over her. The looming forest where her people dwelled rose up. They were close. She sensed their energy, heard the faint laughter of children echoing among the trees. Happiness she had no part of. A world long broken away from her.

It was a mistake coming.

She started to turn.

"Aya?"

Her heart froze in her chest. Icy fear flooded her veins. The sound of her mother's voice—strangely lacking the hostility she braced for—slid over her skin, stealing a breath from her lips. She scarcely dared to move. Running felt cowardly, turning felt terrifying. She didn't know what was worse.

"T-this was a mistake," she stammered and took a step.

One word stopped her.

"Stay."

Then another, even softer.

"Please."

Aya slowly turned, her heart finally moving. A beat that became a storm, a war drum against her ribs, a song rippling through her whole body. Her wings bristled, itching to take her far from the woods, from her mother's unreadable dark amber eyes.

A mournful breeze whistled through the grass, brushing the blades against her skin. The meadow became a shifting sea of green, and Aya imagined herself being swept away. That she'd let it, because it was easier to bear than the uncertainty roaring through her mind. She'd spoken such fiery, defiant words for Elaine, but now before her mother, she froze. The words caught on her lips. She had become a wild beast, cornered, uncertain.

As if by her command, the shadows stretched out from the forest. Her mother's gaze snapped toward the advancing darkness, answering Aya's instinctive call. A strange expression passed over her, her mouth a tight line.

"You came back," said her mother, regarding her once more. A coldness slid into her eyes. "But this isn't just to talk about your witch, is it?"

Aya flinched at the venom in her mother's tone.

She released a long, steady breath, forcing her heart to slow. "Akaria and I have struck a deal. To serve our goddess, I must learn to see into the past. Someone who is not one of us has resurrected a soul long dead. I need to learn who."

Her mother's lips parted, and Aya read the instant ‘no' before the words were uttered. To her surprise, her mother's mouth closed, and she looked away.

"Akaria called you?"

"She seeks—"

"This is a deal struck, honest and true?"

Aya flinched at the coldness and quickly nodded.

Her mother turned and gestured for her to follow. "Then I suggest you follow."