36. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

E laine's head pounded like a madman against the bars of his cage, gnashing teeth, and snarling curses, desperate to be free. She drifted upward through the inky darkness. Her magic felt distant, cut off from her. She tried to call out, but something clamped hard around her throat, searing the words from her lips.

All she could do was lie there, taking in what little she could of her surroundings. Stale air dragged lazily over her lips as her chest fought to move, and she tasted something damp and rotting against her tongue. Like she was underground. Somewhere out of sight, she heard water dripping. She focused on the sound, latching onto it for a grounding force as she fought to awaken.

Footsteps scraped over stone close by. A single person by her guess. They inched closer and a faint warmth settled over her, carrying with it a familiar scent. One like death, almost akin to Aya. There was a wrongness about it, her skin crawling in response.

Where was she? The last thing she remembered was bursts of light shooting from the sky, the realization that it was Dianera who was attacking this time; the crush of the crowd as people screamed and ran, desperately trying to avoid the bolts as they struck the ground. The stench of blood choked the memory as people were ripped apart, some incinerated on impact. And every time a blast struck the ground, she stumbled, barely having time to catch her feet before another came.

Then, a hard blow against the back of her head…and…

Nothing.

Silence.

A broken whimper cleaved from the tiny part in her lips.

The footsteps inched closer, stopped. There was a rustle of fabric, a brush of a hand against her cheek, moving her hair away. A wild stroke of fury exploded upward from her chest as she jerked away. Her eyes shot open. Darkness so thick greeted her she nearly thought her eyes were still shut.

Then light whispered through, slowly defining the distant edges of what appeared to be a vast room. Tall pillars flanked the circular space, and in the middle of it, a young woman kneeling against the stone. Chains wrapped around her body, and ribbons of magic stretched from skin to the floor, glowing with a pulse. Deep magic thrummed in the room, crawling over her skin. A gasp lifted from her lips.

Her body still couldn't move as she stared at Aurora.

There she was.

"You can see her," Ingrid breathed. "Can't you?"

Elaine groaned as she forced herself to look upon the banshee. She leaned over Elaine, staring down at her with a glimmer of hope sparking there. It was wild and feral, and she felt as though she was little more than a map, a talisman to lead Ingrid to the goddess.

But it made no sense. They were in the rooms. Why couldn't Ingrid see her too? They were right there, so damn close she swore if she could move, she might close the distance in a matter of steps. That if she spoke, Aurora might lift her head and their eyes would meet.

"C-can't you?" Her throat was scraped raw, every word a battle to squeeze out.

Ingrid snorted. "Where do you think you are?"

Elaine tried to look again but the room was changed, smaller, like an office. A little window was behind Ingrid, moonlight framing her dark hair like a halo. The damp scent was gone, replaced with one of books piled high in the corner, and of some strange perfume she couldn't pin down. Where had she scented that before? She closed her eyes, hunting for the memory but it danced just out of reach. A taunting whisper she couldn't grasp.

A guttural scream clawed at her throat.

But this time as she tried to move, her body finally obeyed. She struggled to her knees, wincing as waves of pain crashed over her. Her magic was still cut off, lurking just out of reach, refusing her commands. Was this by Ingrid's hand or had the gods given up on her, finding a way to cut her off despite Purgatory's barrier?

Icy fear prickled the nape of her neck, lifting the hairs and gooseflesh. A shiver slithered down her spine. Surely not. Everyone was still alive, right? The barrier was up. Everyone was okay. Everyone had to be okay. Aya wasn't dead. Nor was Tobias or Sabra or even Alexios. Her family was alive and breathing.

"Y-you're the one Honoria and Marisol were working with," she hissed. "You're the fucking traitor."

Ingrid snorted. "I am doing what I had to. Honoria was going to find a way to bring down the barrier, with or without me. This way I found a way to ensure my people survived. Am I really the monster for simply wanting my people safe?" One brow lifted imperiously. "Can you say you wouldn't do anything to ensure those you loved were safe?"

Her mouth opened, then clamped shut, and she looked away, thinking of the vows she made to Aya. The promises of retribution and destruction if anyone came between or hurt those she cared about. A war of blood she would embark on.

Elaine shook her head. "You're wrong."

"Oh?" Ingrid tilted her head, eyes narrowing a little. "Pray tell, what am I wrong about? That you wouldn't do anything to keep those you love safe?"

Elaine took a deep breath before she found the words. "You're going to rip down the barrier and everyone will die, and you don't care. "

"There is no way to save everyone. The gods were thorough in their spell or are you so delusional in your own powers that you think you can defeat them?"

"I won't help you free her," she whispered, glowering at the floor. "I won't let you kill everyone in Purgatory."

Ingrid laughed, the sound hollow and icy, and the very sound rattled through Elaine's bones. Forcing herself to look up, she met the banshee's eyes with fiery defiance, knowing that Aya and her family were coming for her. That they would've known she was taken.

She pitied anyone who stood in Aya Sinclair's path.

"I don't need your fucking permission. You're only a god damn key." Ingrid took her face in her hands and smiled coldly. "Not only that, once I found out the goddess was speaking to you, all I had to do was wait—bide my time until I caught the moment she reached out, and then it was easy. I found her through you, and you didn't even realize it."

Elaine's eyes widened. Her lips parted, a soundless ‘ no' caught in her lips as Ingrid slammed her hand onto her chest, and pain exploded throughout her, dragging her under. Then she felt no more but the cold abyss and the sound of a goddess calling her name. Over and over again, a chant in the darkness.

Elaine…

Elaine…

Elaine…

She awoke in the arms of someone large and muscular, stinking heavily of sweat and earthy notes. A whimper stumbled free before she was able to snatch it back, and she tried to stir, to summon the fight. Something cold brushed against her cheek, and an icy lance speared down through the darkness. She cried out and the darkness claimed her once again.

Someone was calling her name. It was faded and broken, desperate in a frantic plea. She tried to reach out toward it but with every attempt, the call only faded away. Elaine tumbled down, wind roaring in her ears. She was weightless and helpless, screaming into a vast void, with no end in sight, nor beginning. No way to tell how long she had been falling.

Her body jerked hard to a stop.

The whiplash snapped her head back. Pain splintered down her body. She cried out again and struck solid ground. Every inch of her body throbbed in agony, her cheek pressed against cold, damp stone. She screamed at her body to move, forcing herself to pry her eyes open. Once more, she was back in the stone room.

Only this time, Aurora sat on the stone beside her. Her hair spilled freely over one shoulder, half-hiding her face. A worried smile pulled at her lips.

"You're here, " she breathed.

Elaine scrambled to her feet with a gasp. "No, no, no, no, I can't be here! Ingrid, she's coming for you. Oh fuck, no, no—"

"It's fine!" Aurora cut in. "She cannot reach us here."

She froze, staring at the goddess with a deepening frown. "What do you mean? Aren't we…?" She gestured to the room where she was sure the goddess was being held.

Aurora laughed. "Oh, we're not actually there." The smile slipped. "I'm afraid I can't save you. The chains still bind me."

Elaine absorbed the words as she looked again at the room. There was a bed in one corner of the room, piled high with intricate blankets and furs and embroidered pillows. A large bookshelf stretched across the wall beside it, crammed with an array of books and scrolls. Some of them were piled on the floor and several were spread open across a braided rug, along with a mug and an unlit candle.

All around were signs of a well-lived room, of books and embroidery, and even some plants somehow alive in the room lit only by the steady glow of a white witchlight above. It flickered as she moved, absorbing all the little details; from the faint scent of lilac and lemon, to the messy state of the room.

Her heart squeezed. Aurora had been trapped there for hundreds of years alone and now she watched Elaine with this childish happiness, a broad smile stretched across her mouth. Like she was simply so damn happy to have someone in her space and to talk to. Elaine pressed a hand to her mouth, stifling the wrath caught in her throat. The sheer loneliness of the room nearly buckled her knees.

Elaine knew the sentiment well from years on the run, never really able to trust anyone or to set down roots anywhere. Either from the persistent hunters on her trail, or by waiting for the next betrayal from whoever she was forced to trust.

"Why did the gods do this to you?" she whispered. When no answer came, she slowly turned, needing to know why all this mess was happening. To have the reason why all their lives were at risk. "Why are they so afraid of you?"

The smile fell from Aurora. She wrapped her arms around her slender waist and pulled away, silent as she gazed upon the books piled messily on the floor. "They weren't afraid of me. They were afraid of what I created and of history repeating itself—of another goddess like me creating what they so deeply feared."

The pieces clicked in place.

Elaine stilled. "Your child."

"I am the goddess of life," said Aurora. "It is by my very nature to breathe life into the very fabric of this world. It is what I am, and I can no more deny my nature than Vikra can fight the storms that are needed to shape the land. Or why Arcan's fire is needed to bring balance to the calm, to even the scales of this world."

"But how is a child so dangerous?"

Aurora finally turned. "It was not that child they were specifically afraid of. One of the gods beheld a vision that a descendant of mine would walk the halls of our heavenly hall, dripping with their blood. They saw their end in my own heir and could not let it stand. I didn't know until it was too late, and the damage was done. Fortunately, the gods were too late themselves, and were unable to kill me. Though they did try."

"The child protected you?"

A tiny smile pulled at the edge of Aurora's mouth. "There are some forces far older and far more powerful than even the gods, rules in which we must abide. They had not realized I had already sparked the flame within my womb, and as such were bound by our own laws. They could not kill me."

"So, they imprisoned you and Akaria let them?"

What smile was there shattered in an instant, twisting into a look of pure rage. One that rivalled Aya's own dark fury, and she realized that this was —

" Fucking hell…" Elaine staggered back, eyes wide as she stared at her own trembling hands. "The descendant…"

And she knew without a doubt what she thought was true. After all, Aya herself had said the words. That she would kill the gods themselves, that she was more than willing.

"The child they saw was…" Elaine couldn't even say Aya's name, but Aurora drifted forward anyway.

"Yes," said Aurora with a knowing nod. "The one they feared would bring about their end was, indeed, your necromancer—my last living descendant."

Elaine's body shook. She doubled over suddenly, retching violently onto the stones the food she'd eaten this morning. The last meal she'd managed with the nerves that had assailed her leading up to the ceremony. Her body shook, heaving desperately as it tried to purge her body. Tears blurred her vision.

"But if Aya is your descendant, why did you warn me about her?"

"What do you mean?"

She explained about the warnings Aurora kept giving her. When she finished, Aurora was frowning deeply, and then understanding dawned in her eyes.

"I wasn't warning you about Aya. I was warning you about Akaria."