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Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

MAEVYTH

“ W ake up, Maevyth ,” Aleysia whispered. “ You must wake up .”

I opened my eyes to find my sister standing over me, her closely-shorn hair a startling confusion in my half-awakened state. As I focused on her, scanning over the bruises and cuts and bites on her naked body, a niggling dread sat on the outskirts of my thoughts.

The Banishing Ceremony. Running through the woods. The archway.

Rapid images flashed through my mind like an all-too-vivid nightmare.

I trailed my gaze over my surroundings, visually swallowing the gray water-stained walls, stony dirt floor, bars that closed me in. A cage. Beside me stood a nightstand with a flickering lamp that illuminated the teary gaze of my sister.

“ Come with me .”

“How are you here?” I pushed to a sitting position, my mind hammering out the memories from the night before. The last detail I could recall was riding horseback toward a castle. An ominous castle. A man wearing a hooded cowl and leather mask.

“I crossed in the night. Come.” She waved, urging me up out of bed. “He intends to kill you, Sister.” She reached out her hand for me, and I glanced down, noticing the blood and gashes on her palm.

Something wasn’t right, though, and as my mind untangled itself from sleep, it became clearer what failed to make sense. Aleysia couldn’t have found me. The trek to the castle was long and rife with terrible creatures.

It was then the dread I’d feared moments ago rushed over me, settling deep into my bones. “I’m hallucinating you.” Tears welled in my eyes, blurring her form. “Oh, god, Aleysia. He … he … killed you.” Bottom lip quivering, I took her hand and, even through the numbing chill that wracked my own body, felt the icy-cold bite of her skin. “My poor sister.”

Her grip tightened over mine, and I glanced up to see her eyes flip from their usual bright blue to orbs of black onyx. She gave a hard yank, pulling me into her, and opened her mouth to show sharpened teeth.

I kicked back on a scream, and she exploded into white vapor. When the shock finally faded, a suffocating ache settled in my chest, a wretched misery that longed to drown me. Tears wavered in my eyes as I forced myself to absorb the meaning of her visit. A soul-shattering grief withered the air, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t draw in enough oxygen to banish the feeling of my lungs filling with a stifling anguish.

He killed her.

“Must’ve been quite a dream.” The unfamiliar voice came from the left of me, and I startled, my spine hitting the stone wall as I jerked back.

Gathering myself, I crawled on hands and knees toward the end of the bed and found a young woman with long, silvery hair sitting on the floor across from the cell, her back pressed against the wall. Youth glowed in her alabaster skin tone that shimmered with a silvery overtone, and eyes like the shallow blue of the Abyssius Sea. A long, burgundy, velvet dress pooled around her, the hem hiked up to her shins by her bent knees. In one hand she held a bright red apple, and a small paring knife in the other.

Blinking away tears, I studied her, trying to recall if I’d seen her at any point the night before. “Where am I? And who are you?” I couldn’t help but stare at the apple. In spite of my confusion and heartbreak, the hunger in my belly refused to be ignored.

“You speak Nyxterosi.” She carved a piece of the fruit and popped it into her mouth. “That’s interesting,” she said around a mouthful. “My name is Rykaia, and you’re at the luxurious Castle Eidolon, home of pain, suffering, and utter decay.”

“There was a man who brought me … with a mask.”

“Ah, yes, my brother. The feared Lord Rydainn—or tyrant beast, as I like to call him.”

Her brother . I lurched forward, kicking my feet over the edge of the bed. “Can you get me out of this cell? I don’t know why he brought me here, but I have to return to the woods.”

“You are mortal, then. Balls of Castero … I knew that smell was unusual. Quite delicious. Were I the cannibal type, I might be inclined to have a taste.” She waved the knife in front of her. “Fortunately for you, I’m not that type. To answer your question, no. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

My hope for escape withered, and I glanced around, noting a lock on the cage. “There isn’t a key to unlock the cell?”

“Well, yes.” She pointed, and I followed the path of her gaze to the stone wall, where a ring of keys hung from a nail. Completely out of reach.

“Won’t you hand it to me? I can let myself out.”

“I’m afraid not.” She carved another slice of the apple and popped it into her mouth. “See, I’ve been sentenced to remain at this tomb of rot, and unfortunately for you, I’m thoroughly intrigued by your presence,” she said, her words garbled in bits of apple. “Zevander doesn’t bring women back to the castle. Ever .” Brows raised, she sighed. “Besides that, the moment I put the key in that hole, my brother will be alerted, and seven hells will break. It’s a terrible circumstance, I know. I’ve been in that very cell before.”

“Your brother locked you in here?” Another sweep of the cell showed a box-like structure, like a standing closet, with a narrow door that had me questioning what might be inside. Granted, it was a bit fancier than most dungeons, definitely fancier than the one the guards had thrown me into, but it certainly wasn’t where I’d have my sister sleep.

Aleysia.

I forced the image of her face out of my head. No time for tears or mourning when my escape took priority.

“I told you he was a tyrant beast.” She crunched another bite of the apple, my stomach grumbling for a taste.

A chill spiraled through me, a slight mist expelling past my lips, and I wrapped my arms around my body, shivering. The lingering fright of my nightmare certainly didn’t help my trembling.

“Gets a little cold down here. Worse in the dead of winter. Like an icebox.”

“Who is Castero?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the pang in my stomach and the tremor in my bones. “You mentioned the name earlier.”

She snorted and bit off the end of the apple–the bit that most tended to toss away—and took half the core, too. Seeds, and all. “Oh! Just a saying. He was an ancient warrior who, according to historians, slayed ten drakes at once.” Pausing, she stared as if thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure if his balls were actually significant. I’d love to find a resource to confirm.”

A long gargly noise echoed from the left, sounding like a snarling animal. “What is that awful sound?”

“Dolion. My brother’s other prisoner. Snores like he’s trying to inhale a small child, doesn’t he?”

As much as I wanted to laugh at that, I could only muster a clipped smile.

Another bite of the apple, and she polished off the core, leaving only the tip that still carried the stem.

At that point, I’d have probably eaten the whole thing too, considering my stomach had begun to feel like it was consuming itself.

“Seems Zevander is racking them up these days. Ordinarily, these cells stand empty, aside from the times I’m locked in one.”

“That must be incredibly terrifying and lonely down here.”

“I’m not typically conscious.” She gave a dismissive shrug. “So … the dream. Was it a good one, or a bad one?”

Her question sent me spiraling back to the last few minutes, just before Aleysia had tried to attack me, and I winced at the blackness of her eyes. How soulless she’d looked. “It was no dream. I apparently see the dead.”

“Well, you weren’t seeing much of anything with your eyes still closed, I’m sure.”

I perked up at that. “My eyes were closed?”

“Up until you kicked out at the invisible air monster.” She lifted her booted foot as if to demonstrate.

“Perhaps it was just a dream. An awful dream.” Maybe Aleysia was still alive.

“Gods, what an awful thing that must be … seeing the dead. Are they intact when you see them? I mean, say someone was chopped entirely. Would you be visited by a pile of severed limbs? Or the person as a whole?”

As she asked the question, I found myself silently questioning the state of her mind. “I’ve … never encountered a pile of severed limbs.”

Nodding, she smiled. “Makes sense. How could you have conversations with severed limbs, after all?”

“Did I speak aloud in my dreaming?”

“Yes. You dreamed of your sister.”

I wouldn’t have willingly offered up that detail, as I had no idea what her brother’s intentions were with me. “I need to return to her. She’s in trouble.”

“Pity you found yourself trapped in here. My brother isn’t known for being all that merciful.” Eyes narrowed, she rested her elbows on her knees. “Which begs the question … what are you doing here?”

“I don’t know … I was attacked and woke up on his horse. The last thing I remember before blacking out was an exceptionally …” I hesitated to say for fear of sounding as ridiculous as it was in my head. “Large scorpion.” The croaking howl of a dying animal erupted from the pit of my gut, echoing through the cell like a final war cry, and I threw my arms around my mid-section, cheeks burning. “Forgive me. I’m starving.”

Rykaia chuckled, and the sound of scraping metal alerted me to a tray she dragged from the other side of her. “I brought some food. I hope you don’t mind, but I stole the apple. Took forever for you to wake.” She slid the tray beneath the narrow gap between the bars and the floor, and while I should’ve been more cautious taking food from a complete stranger, the much greater instinct to keep from starving to death wouldn’t allow it.

I shamelessly dove for what looked like a hearty stew, the steam from which gave off a delicious savory scent, and fresh bread.

“You’ll have to remind Zevander to feed you. He seems to forget that living creatures eat. It’s why we don’t have any plants, or animals, aside from the damn drakes that inhabit the grounds.”

“You have drakes?” I said around an ungracious mouthful of food, some of which I accidentally spat, before swallowing it back. One bite warmed my insides, drowning the cold that vibrated my muscles. The savory flavor exploded on my tongue, and my eyes nearly rolled back at the heavenly taste. The thin stews back home had little meat, too much water, and a lot more onions. This was the most delicious meal I’d ever eaten in my life. “Like the lizard dragons without wings?”

“Yes, and they are vicious. Unless you’re Zevander, or one of the other miscreants roaming the grounds.”

“Miscreants?”

“Yes. The men my brother was imprisoned with.”

“Imprisoned?” I gulped back a large bite of stew, nearly choking on the word. Had they broken out and taken me with them?

“Ah, you’re awake!” A masculine voice drew my attention to a dark-skinned man, with white hair and a thick white beard, peeking in from outside the opposite end of my cell.

“And so are you,” Rykaia said with little enthusiasm. “I thought it’d gotten rather quiet in here.”

He dropped his gaze and cleared his throat. “My apologies for the snoring. It’s an aging thing.”

“Come now, Dolion. What are you? Four-hundred? Five?”

Surely, it couldn’t have been age that they were discussing.

Hands clasped in front of him, he bowed. “Six-hundred-thirty. But thank you for the compliment.”

“You’re six-hundred-thirty years old.” I couldn’t hide the air of disbelief coloring my tone.

“Give, or take, yes.”

“How?”

Brows raised, he shrugged. “Well, I’d like to think that I take good care of myself. For the most part. I do like a bit of mors mead, which is … punishing, I’m afraid. And ale. Can’t seem to give up the ale.”

“No. I mean how is it possible? We’re lucky to live until the age of eighty, where I’m from.”

“Eighty?” Rykaia snorted. “That’s practically infantile.”

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two-hundred-six.”

Two-hundred-six? The girl looked like she couldn’t have been much older than me. “You … definitely do not look two-hundred-six years old.”

“Ah, gods bless. You are a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m no expert on the matter, a scholar would be much more informational, but as I understand, time moves a bit differently here than in Mortasia.”

I sopped up some of the broth with a piece of bread and popped it into my mouth. “I thought you were a prisoner, as well?”

“Yes, well, I suppose, technically, I am. You’re actually not a prisoner, Miss …” His brows kicked up as if he wanted me to answer.

“Maevyth.”

“Maevyth. And might I say, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”

“If I’m no prisoner, then you’ll let me go?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that. It’s complicated. Perhaps a bit overwhelming, if I tried to explain it all at once.” Hands behind his back, he paced outside my cell. “I’m sure this is all very new and confusing.”

“It’s frustrating.” I soaked up another bite of stew to stifle the anger stirring inside of me all over again. “Someone I care about is in grave danger as we speak.”

“Her sister,” Rykaia supplied, to which Dolion gave a sympathetic nod that pinched to a pensive expression.

“You’ve a sister?”

“Yes. Step-sister, but we may as well be blood. We tried to cross through an archway in the woods. I made it through, but …” The quiver in my voice warned me to stop before I broke into tears. “She didn’t.”

“She attempted to step through?” he asked.

“No. She never had the chance.”

Dolion huffed and lowered his gaze. “If it’s any comfort to you, had she tried, she’d have fallen to her death in the great chasm.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I made it through just fine.”

“Her blood isn’t your blood.” Inhaling deeply, he frowned and paced again. “I can respect and sympathize with your worry, miss. But you are here, at Castle Eidolon, because you happen to be in grave danger yourself.” Dolion cleared his throat and held up a finger, when I shot him a frown at his words. “If you’ll excuse me one moment.”

“Wait. How am I in danger?”

“I’ll answer that in a moment,” he said, and slipped away, as if it weren’t the single most important thought in my head right then.

“Look,” Rykaia said, pushing to her feet. “Those woods are guarded all hours of the day. There’s no way you’d get past the cavalry, and if you did? You’d still have to get through the Umbravale, somehow. But before all of that, you’d have to get past my brother. He does not . Bring. Anyone. To Eidolon. The fact you’re here does not bode well for your freedom.”

“What could he possibly want from me?”

“That is a question I’ve mulled for hours now.”

“Can I speak with him?”

Lips flattened, she shook her head. “Afraid not. The king has requested his presence this afternoon. He’s on his way to Costelwick as we speak.”

I had no idea what Costelwick was, or where it might be in relation to where I was right then.

Dolion appeared again, a brown bag clutched in his hand. “Suffice it to say, the Lord of Eidolon plans to keep you here for a bit. In the meantime, perhaps you might kill the hours with a book?”

A book? “I don’t want to read. I can’t read while the person I love may very well be suffering her last breaths. I want to go home.”

“Perhaps you want a bath, too.” Rykaia waved her hand in front of her face and pinched her nose. “No offense. The oranges are starting to smell a little ripe ,” she said in a nasally tone.

“I empathize with you.” Dolion pressed his palms together. “Truly. And perhaps Lord Rydainn might be so kind as to track her down for you.”

Rykaia snorted and shook her head. “Zevander is not a man of favors.”

“No, I suppose he’s not. But there are other ways.” Staring off thoughtfully, he scratched at his beard. “Would you happen to have something belonging to your sister?”

“What kind of something?”

“Anything really. A lock of hair, a piece of clothing, jewelry. Anything you may have gotten a hold of.”

I had none of those things, and the more I thought about that, the more my heart ached. Had she, in fact, perished, I had nothing by which to remember her. “No. I don’t have anything.”

“Ah, that is a shame. I can attempt with her name, but it’s never accurate that way.”

“What isn’t accurate?”

“A scrying mirror. It’s much better with something belonging to the person you seek to find.”

Poking my spoon at the last couple of bites of stew, I shook my head. “So, I guess I’m stuck here. Reading books, while my sister’s fate remains unknown.”

“I wouldn’t consider reading books in solitary the worst scenario.” Rykaia tucked the small knife she’d used to carve the apple into the belt of her dress. “Well, I’m going to scrounge up a bit more to eat. I’ll come back to check on you in a bit.” With that, she set off down a long corridor that led to a shadowy end.

“The book in question is not just any book, miss.” Dolion reached into the brown bag, before pushing an odd wooden book, with spindles that looked like bone along the spine, through the gap in the bars. The aged cover, garnished in black feathers, boasted one silvery pale eye set beneath a bony protruding ridge that gave it the fierce appearance of an angry dragon. Or bird. Yes, perhaps it looked more like a raven. It reminded me very much of Raivox, who I’d also lost in those woods.

The eye was divided by small diagonal slits that converged in the center at a pitch-black pupil. Along the edges, symbols had been carved in deep black grooves with small peg holes. Just outside of that, a strange pattern that reminded me of a maze lined either edge of the entire structure.

Book in hand, I sat on the edge of the bed and attempted to lift the cover, but it wouldn’t budge. I turned the book over in my hands, examining the tightly sealed pages along the edge.

“It’s a puzzle book,” Dolion said. “Quite popular when I was a child. Every winter solstice, my grandmother would gift one to me. Each page, including the cover, is a mechanical puzzle fused with magic. You solve a puzzle, you unlock a page.”

“Is it a story?” I asked, and pried at the cover, to no avail.

“Yes. A very compelling one, I’m sure. Though, I’ve not personally been successful at opening it.”

Huffing, I set the book on the table beside me, no longer interested. “What makes you think I’d fare any better?”

“Oh, I’m certain if you worked with it, you’d be successful in opening it. Again, just a means of passing the time, until this confusion over your circumstances is cleared with Lord Rydainn.”

I very much doubted there was any confusion on Lord Rydainn’s part. In fact, my kidnapping seemed very intentional. “You said I was in grave danger. Why? From whom?”

A look of uncertainty crossed his face, as if he didn’t want to tell me. “There are mages looking for you. Powerful mages.”

“Why? Because I crossed?”

“At the moment, they’re not aware of your presence here,” he said, pacing again. “But when they do become aware, and I suspect they will, you can be sure they will go to every effort to hunt you down.”

Hunt me? “Why? What did I do?”

“It isn’t what you did, but what you possess, Maevyth.” He paused his pacing. “They believe in a prophesy. Well, one I may have started …” Brows furrowed, he rubbed a finger across his lips. “I don’t want to frighten you, but you happen to possess extraordinary abilities. Is it possible you’ve stumbled upon oddities about yourself? Things you can’t explain?”

The first to come to mind had happened just before Aleysia had taken off into the woods. “I …” I hesitated, because admitting such a thing back in Foxglove would’ve stirred suspicions of witchcraft.

“Do not fear to say. We’ve been anxious to know what wonderful gifts you possess.”

“The villagers … they wanted to hurt my sister. They approached, and the moment I threw out my hands, a pile of bones lay on the ground.”

The concern etched into Dolion’s face softened to a beaming smile. With a flick of his fingers, he urged me to the bars of the cage. “Come. I must see your palm.”

I flipped my hand over and frowned down on seeing the same strange symbol I’d seen in the sky just before The Banishing etched as a faint scar on my skin. With everything that’d happened, I hadn’t noticed it at all until right then. Rubbing my thumb over the scar failed to erase it, and I pushed to my feet. Still staring down at the marking, I crossed the cell and, with a small bit of reluctance, pushed my hand between the bars.

Dolion smiled, running his thumb over the symbol that flickered under his gentle caress. “ Osflagulle . My gods, I’ve never seen this particular magic before.”

“Magic?”

“You possess incredible power, Maevyth. This one, in particular, has not been seen in centuries.”

The excitement in his voice contrasted with the growing fear inside of me. The very real possibility that I’d lost my senses completely and was hallucinating everything.

“Who knows what others are tied to your bloodline.”

My head remained in a state of disbelief when I asked, “So, these mages that are hunting me, as you say—they want me because of these abilities?”

“They want your blood, I’m afraid.”

I’d definitely lost my mind. The more farfetched the story, the more questions I asked, because at that point, I couldn’t stop myself. “My blood? As a bat consumes blood.” It wasn’t a question on my part, it was a refusal to accept his explanation.

“No. To rebirth an ancient weapon.”

What started as a small chuckle in my throat grew to a full-blown laugh. I laughed so hard, tears welled in my eyes.

Dolion lowered his gaze and nodded. “For you, I imagine this all sounds quite unlikely.” His comment made me laugh harder, and I wiped the tears from my eyes, only then realizing how sore and aching they felt. It very much sounded ridiculous. Impossible.

“I can assure you, it’s all true.”

The laughter died in my chest, and the intense urge to break into tears stung the rims of my eyes, but just as before, I choked them back. “You can assure me,” I said in a flat tone. “So, how am I safe in this cell? It seems I should return before they discover I’m here.”

“Should they learn who you are, I’m afraid they won’t hesitate to seek you out, no matter which side of the vale you’re on. Here, the castle is guarded by a very powerful ward. There are also four of the king’s best assassins prepared to protect you. Tell me, do you have that level of protection back at home?”

I couldn’t even say I still had a home, let alone anyone willing to protect me there, besides Aleysia.

Aleysia .

While I sat entertaining these outrageous explanations, the likelihood of her being alive withered, because even if Moros hadn’t killed her that night, the governor and Sacton Crain would’ve surely seen to her execution. “Why would I possibly believe any of this?”

“Because I’m very invested in watching you live a long and prosperous life, Maevyth. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

“I don’t even know you, nor do you know me.”

“I know more than you think.”

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