Chapter 30

Dravyn

The stairs that led into the prison hold reeked of sewage and sweat.

The same escort who had brought me to my brother also accompanied me now, announcing my presence and purpose to every other guard we passed—of which there were dozens. He trailed me to the lowest point, falling farther and farther behind as we descended, as though reluctant to venture so deep underground.

Fresh air soon became a distant memory, warmth along with it, and the foul stench grew so overpowering it nearly took my breath away.

At the bottom of the stone steps, my escort rallied his courage and soldiered ahead once more, leading me to the very last of several barred cells.

A single torch flickered on the wall outside of this last cell, enough to light a path into the dismal chamber yet illuminating nothing inside of it. My vision adjusted well enough to the dark, however, allowing me to make out Cillian's shape huddled against the far back wall.

He stirred at the sound of the guard's keys clinking and rattling against the lock, lifting his head in a slow, dazed motion.

I commanded the torch beside me to glow brighter, until the firelight reached nearly to Cillian's boots. The divine symbols blazing on my body brightened the area even further with every breath I took and every bit of power I exhaled. My escort backed away as light and heat rolled off me, nearly tripping in his haste to put space between us.

Cillian stood, hand grappling against the wall for balance as he watched me approach.

"You're alone." His voice cracked out of him, brittle and dry, as though it had been some time since his last sip of water. "Karys was not interested in another chat with me, I take it?"

"I'm sure she would be, if such a thing were possible."

"…What do you mean?" There was a touch of genuine concern in his tone. It tempered the irritation that had been smoldering in my veins since I'd stepped foot into this city; despite his mistakes, he'd always seemed to be one of the few whose affection towards Karys rang true.

Hopefully, he was feeling affectionate enough that this next part would not require force.

"Where is she?" he asked.

"That's what you're going to tell me ," I said, slipping inside the cell and dragging the barred door shut behind me. My escort was no longer anywhere to be seen. Coward .

Cillian blinked rapidly as I stalked closer, trying to find my face in the sudden onslaught of light and shadows.

"She disappeared in the chaos at Mindoth," I informed him.

"Many were lost in that chaos."

"She didn't get lost. She was taken. By one of your allies."

He leaned more fully against the wall, dragging the shackles binding his wrists and ankles into view. The sound of scraping metal echoed in the emptiness around us.

"You must have at least some idea of where they could have taken her. And why."

A shuddering breath slipped through his parched lips. "The why is obvious enough, isn't it?" he muttered.

I narrowed my gaze, silently ordering him to keep speaking.

"She's a threat."

"Why? Because she's found favor with the gods, whereas most of your kind continue to do all they can to stoke the hostility between us?"

"Most of our leaders see her as a traitor. One who might be able to convince too many of us to stop fighting for power and status. A few have held out hope that we might be able to turn her back to our side—myself, Andrel, her sister—but others grow tired of the wrinkles she's put in our plans. Her sister wanted a chance to prove that Karys was still loyal to us. So when Karys appeared on the edge of the Galithian Training Grounds the other night, I…" He hesitated.

"You told her sister she was there." My jaw clenched. "You helped them set a trap for her, didn't you?"

He stood up straighter, the metal around his ankles grating harshly against the stone. "Savna truly wanted to protect her. From the destruction happening in Mindoth, and from the grumblings and increasing vitriol our kind had started to spit toward her."

"And do you think her sister will succeed in changing those grumbling minds?"

He considered the question as he shifted his hands, twisting his wrists around and trying to redistribute the weight of his chains. "I want her to, if only because the alternative would be…"

I stepped even closer, heat flaring around me and making him wince. "The alternative would be what ?"

I expected him to wither as I pressed nearer. But he looked me directly in the eyes and said, "Our kind have never been lenient with traitors."

" Traitors ," I growled. "Because if she does not conform exactly to your ideals, then she must be a traitor and a grave threat to your kind. There is no in-between."

He smiled grimly. "We understand one another, at last."

We fell silent.

The quiet deepened as the seconds passed, until I became unnervingly aware of every sound—from the pitter-patter of scurrying rat feet to the distant, nervous heartbeats of the guard who continued to keep out of my sight.

The torch outside settled as I contemplated my next words and studied Cillian. Now that I stood so close, his dire state was even more apparent.

I was not sure what my brother's soldiers had put him through, but he looked as though he had barely survived it.

His body sagged under the weight of his shackles. His breathing was ragged and uneven. His face seemed to be growing more pallid with every passing second. And all the violence I was capable of suddenly seemed useless, as did coercing with threats.

In my experience, it was difficult to threaten people who had little left to lose.

"Karys told me you were always the voice of reason amongst her old friends," I tried instead.

He didn't reply, too busy staring at his reflection in the tarnished metal cup that lay at his feet. "This isn't about me."

"No, it's about her. And you helped her escape once before. So clearly you have not forgotten about the friendship you once shared. Which is why you will tell me where she is."

He kept his eyes on his tarnished reflection, but I saw them flash with brief awareness and concern—a break in his stubbornness.

"What will it take?"

His gaze flickered to me, questioning.

"You must have a price in mind."

He lifted his hands, studying the chains attached to them as if seeing them for the first time. I expected him to barter for his freedom. It would have been easy enough for me to break him out; however impressively deep these palace depths might have been, everything around us had still been built by mortals. And I had strength enough to destroy it all, even though I was currently weaker than normal.

"Your price," I growled.

"Answers."

This was unexpected.

I swept my gaze around every corner of the cell, expecting a trick.

Cillian's face was perfectly impassive when I looked back at him.

"…Fine," I relented. "Though I warn you: What little patience I possess is very close to being used up." I rolled the tension from my shoulders and asked, "What do you wish to know?"

He hesitated an instant before deciding on his first question: "Is it true that she wields the same divine fire as you?"

"Yes."

"A goddess, then?"

"In every sense of the word."

"So what does that make you?"

I regarded him calmly despite the heat that surged through my veins.

"The gods do not share their specific powers, do they?" he pressed. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"There's more to her powers than what I gave her. What she ultimately becomes remains to be seen."

"So she doesn't truly serve you, as so many of our kind fear?"

The heat surged into my palm. I clenched my fist, preventing a flame from igniting. "I poured my magic into her in order to convince the Moraki to spare her after Andrel nearly killed her—to let her ascend rather than perish. And I wanted her to be my equal, so I gave more than what one of the Marr would typically use to create a servant spirit. Her power is equal to mine, even if it hasn't fully taken shape."

He was quiet for a time, seemingly struggling to wrap his mind around all of this information. "She explained it to me, once. The way the divine courts are structured and balanced. I didn't think adding another goddess—another equal—would allow them to maintain that balance."

"The Moraki had their reasons for allowing her to become what she did. I can't say what those reasons are. Or what will ultimately become of either of us."

His eyes darted up to mine, more awake, more calculating than they had been since the beginning of our conversation. "She could very well be a pawn in some great and terrible scheme of theirs. Both of you could be."

The idea was not new, and it had brought dread with it every time it crossed my mind; it was no better hearing it out loud, spoken by another.

He let the statement hang in the air, staring at the ceiling, unblinking.

"If I had to guess," he said after a long pause, "I'd say you'll find her somewhere near her old home. About twenty miles southeast of the Nightvale Wood. Her sister has been returning to it often, lately…"

He trailed off as though he intended to say more.

Before he could, his breath seized in a violent cough that lasted several seconds.

The movement sapped more of what little energy he possessed, leaving him slumping against the wall by the time he was finished, pulling the chains of his shackles taut.

Silence overtook us once again, lasting for several beats before I finally cleared my throat and offered my thanks.

Another coughing fit was his only reply at first.

Something about the sound and suddenness of that hacking set off alarm bells in the back of my mind.

After several seconds, he settled enough to mumble out more information. "I know Savna and some of her inner circle have been experimenting with different types of wards, but I can't say what they've put around that old home of hers, or how they'll try to keep you from reaching Karys if that is where she was taken to."

"Whatever they've done won't stop me. If that's where she is, I'll find a way to reach her."

With some effort, he met my gaze again and gave a slow nod. His eyes brightened for just a moment, back to their usual, otherworldly green, glistening with an emotion I couldn't readily name.

An unspoken understanding felt as if it was passing between us.

He stifled another cough—or was perhaps too weak to expel it. Over and over this happened: deep, ragged, would-be coughs rocking his body until he was forced to slump fully against the wall, to sink to the ground before losing his balance.

"Are you all right?"

Commotion outside his cell answered me before he could.

I ran for the door and peered out.

Countless guards raced down the steps in the distance, pouring into the hallways and darting from cell to cell, shouting questions and commands at one another.

More coughing that sounded eerily similar to Cillian's began to echo throughout the dungeon, occasionally pierced by moans and groans and agonized cries.

Then, somewhere far in the distance, I heard a guard shout, "The water! There's poison in the water!"

I turned around to find Cillian clutching the same metal cup he'd been using to study his reflection. Turning it upside down. Watching a single drop of water fall to the cold stone.

Realization sank into me, the weight of it threatening my balance.

Cillian only laughed, shaking his head. "I should have known he would take measures to make certain no captives could spill secrets." He bared his teeth in an uncharacteristically wild, rebellious expression. "He'll be furious about even the little bit of information I've managed to give you tonight."

I didn't have to ask who he was referring to; it was becoming more and more clear who the greatest source of poison among their kind was.

I stepped back to his side, kneeling to pick up the metal cup, lifting it toward my face and inhaling. A faint scent of something earthy and bitter clung to it.

"Do me a favor, won't you?" Cillian asked, back to his usual stoic appearance.

I remained crouched before him, listening, watching sweat bead on his face and trying to ignore the disaster steadily building behind me.

"Tell her…tell her I'm sorry." As the words finished slurring from his mouth, he slumped forward. I tried to prop him back upright. Breaths still trembled through his lips, but his eyes were turning empty, unseeing.

My thoughts raced. He had helped Karys in the past. He had also betrayed her in Mindoth. But now he had told me where to find her…

He was, like so many caught up in all the wars building around us, neither good nor bad. Perhaps poison was a fitting end for him. Perhaps it wasn't. Weighing souls and their endings wasn't really within my dominion.

The only thing I was certain of was that Karys would be devastated by news of his death.

I didn't think beyond this.

I grabbed his arm and poured all the energy I had into summoning a ribbon of fire that circled around both our bodies, binding us together. As the guard who had led me to the cell came rushing back into view, the ribbon of fire split into multiple strands, engulfing Cillian and me more completely, lifting us off our feet.

The guard watched helplessly as I rose from the ground. He yelled something, but it was lost in the roar of wind and flame. It didn't matter, anyway.

I was leaving.

And I was taking Cillian with me.

We traveled as fire, then smoke, then nothingness through the aether, eventually reappearing near the spot on the shoreline where I'd emerged into this realm. The concentration of my own magic in this spot helped pull me back, as did the pull of Mairu and her magic. The goddess had returned here some hours ago, as planned, waiting and watching in case I needed backup.

Even though these things made our travel relatively easy, Cillian still looked far worse by the time we fully materialized beside the river.

His face was a putrid shade of yellow. Foam dribbled from one corner of his mouth. His fingers clenched and unclenched slowly, desperately, as if trying to grab hold of something that would tether him to this living world. The prison shackles still encircled his wrists and ankles, tight enough that the magic had carried them as if they were a part of his attire—though the chains had been seared off during the process.

I was feeling only marginally better. I'd had no choice but to use magic to get us here, but now I paid for it with a disorienting rush of weakness—a reminder that I was still recovering, still separated from Karys, still not at my full power.

Nevertheless, I kept moving, carrying Cillian's limp body along the river's edge, trying to decide where I would take him—and what the hell I could possibly do for him—next.

Mairu caught sight of us and stormed over, her eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "What do you think you're doing?"

"He's dying. Poisoned by his own kind."

"And that's our problem?"

"I'm afraid it is."

"He turned Karys away when she asked for his help at Mindoth. Have you forgotten that?"

"No. Nor have I forgotten how he helped her before. And he's given me information tonight. We owe him a debt."

She pursed her lips.

"Karys would not want him to die."

Her mouth opened. Closed. She gave a curt nod. "Maybe Zachar can help," she suggested, begrudgingly. "He could put him in suspension until we figure out an antidote, and he might even be able to identify the poison they used. He's good at that sort of thing. I could go fetch him from Nerithyl. It might take some coaxing to get him here, but he's more likely to come than Armaros. I think the Healing God is growing tired of us…"

As she continued to rattle off thoughts and potential plans, I looked down at the burden draped in my arms.

His body had gone very still.

I jostled him until his eyes finally shot open and words trembled out: "Tell her…make sure you tell her…"

No less than a full minute passed, the seconds marked by shallow breath after shallow breath. Warmth seeped from his skin. His fingers continued clenching, unclenching, clenching, unclenching…

"That you're sorry?" I finished for him.

He blinked once, then shut his eyes with a small sigh.

Carefully, I knelt and laid him in the damp grass at the riverside. Even when I tried to infuse warmth into his body, his skin remained pale. Cold.

The wind rattled the trees around us. The city in the distance slept on, still and dark, seemingly oblivious to its restless leaders and budding wars and palace dungeons filled with death.

Were others outside the dungeon at risk as well?

I thought of my brother, alone in his study save for his countless guards. Could all of those guards be trusted?

Who had poisoned the water?

The world felt balanced on the cusp of disaster, like one more gust of wind might tip it into catastrophe.

Mairu had fallen silent, I realized. The plans she'd been making hung unfinished in the air as she stepped closer.

"Dravyn? Is he…" She trailed off with a sharp inhale—a sound that confirmed the fear already digging its roots into my chest.

It was part of her magic, to be able to sense even the faintest energies of living things…and her expression told me she no longer felt anything from Cillian.

I tried to jostle him awake once more, but there was no response this time.

He was gone.