Chapter 8

Iwas still reeling from the attack when we reached the portal, anger coursing through my veins as the familiar otherworldly hum and dancing blue light filled me with a different sort of dread.

I led the mule over to an empty corner and dug into the saddlebag for a handful of grain.

"I think I'll call you Smart." Smart dropped his head into my hand, nibbling out of my palm. "Now be smart and stay here while we go do something incredibly stupid."

Tristan could have died. One wrong move, one swipe of those talons would have taken his head off and there would have been nothing I could have done to stop it.

Everyone was silent as we filed inside the chamber, Raziel's hand still gently gripping my arm. He hadn't let me go since he'd steered me away from Tristan, hadn't said a word, either, as if he knew words would not make this better.

But he didn't stop me as I pulled away and approached the largest of the skulls set up on a plinth, all that ancient, forgotten power on full display.

But by whom?

Ardaric. The name, whispered in the air, was carried on the hum of the portal, and my gaze drifted over to Tavion, his lips set in a tight line as he came to stand beside me, his fingers resting lightly on my waist.

The haphazard pile of broken bones stacked beside the plinth were as yellowed as I remembered, some of them splintered at the ends as if they'd been crushed by an enormous weight.

Like an entire mountain had crashed down upon them.

"It's either Tavion and me over here"—I patted the mule and studied Amalla's skull, the dome crushed into a ruinous ring of shards, a pile of equally shattered bones arranged beside it—"or we go to the other side of the portal where Tristan and Zorander will go in. Remember, we're looking for what happened in that clearing."

This was the one detail we hadn't decided.

Who would go in, who would serve as an anchor.

"The only ones who haven't been inside one of these visions is Zor and Raz," Tavion groused. "I say it's their turn to take one for the team."

"Raziel's skull is gone," I pointed out softly with no small amount of regret. A tactical move, that diversion, but one I wish I hadn't been forced to make. "Which means Raz is an anchor by default."

"Now that we're under attack"—Zor's face was stone as he swept his eyes around the chamber—"you won't have the luxury of time. Go in, get out."

"We'll try, but that's not exactly how this works," Tavion complained, his gaze dropping to the knife Tristan held oh-so casually.

"Time for some payback." Tristan grinned. "I sharpened this before we left."

Tavion went white, and I elbowed him in the side. "Told you so."

"Pair up," Zorander ordered, positioning himself at the opening we'd come through, the mule waiting patiently by the wall, shimmering blue light reflected in its limpid brown eyes. "Tavion and Tristan, Anaria and Raz. Tristan and Raz, keep your eyes peeled for any threat inside the vision; Tavion and Anaria, find the answers we need and find them fast. I'll be your back up in case something goes wrong out here in the real world. Anything does…"

I winced when Raz pulled out his own wicked looking knife. "Raz will get you all out of there."

"I can't believe pain's the only way to stop the vision," Raziel grumbled, following me over to the crushed skull of my ancestor.

"That we know of," I said, stopping in front of Amalla's skull. Tavion halted in front of the plinth, Tristan beside him, palm resting on the hilt of his knife, his expression like a kid about to get his favorite treat.

"Still, I hate the thought of you being hurt, Anaria," Raz murmured.

I shrugged, trying not to look too closely at Zor's pointy knife. "You'll heal us all after, and we'll have our answers. We've gone through worse for less reward."

"True enough, but…" Raz blew out a shaky breath, his dark eyes glimmering with hesitation. "The thought of harming you makes me want to vomit."

"Well"—I tried to smile—"you and Tavion could switch places. He likes to get all stabby."

"I heard that, wife, and I did not enjoy that. I only did what was necessary. Besides"—his grin turned slightly evil—"you're the one who suggested I stick my blade into both Raziel and Zor, and don't bother denying it." I glared at him across the room.

"Tavion and Anaria go in together. Raz and Tristan be ready to pull them out…"

"But not too fast," I warned.

"But not too fast," Zor agreed, even though he really didn't agree with any of this. "Raz and Tristan, concentrate on your charges, and for fuck's sake, don't touch them. I'll watch the door and make sure nothing goes wrong."

I refrained from rolling my eyes since this entire situation was wrong.

I held out my shaking hands over the skull's mottled surface, wondering if I was imagining the faint scent of rot permeating everything. How old was this place, and who had created it? The witches? The Old Gods? The Fae?

Written histories weren't reliable, since I knew from experience how easily history could be erased and rewritten at the whim of those in charge. And the Oracle had been in charge for a long, long time.

But I refused to make the same mistakes as our predecessors. And this, I told myself as I laid my hands on the cool bone, was the only way to know for sure what those mistakes were.

Two moons rose in tandem over snow dusted mountains, the sky blushed with pink.

Sunrise or sunset, I didn't know, but the day had the taste of fresh beginnings, the air crisp and dripping with dew, tasting faintly of flowers.

Somewhere far away a bell pealed, melodic but dulled, the sound echoing across the sheer distance between us and whatever town square it rang in. Everything here was enormous. The moons ate up much of the looming sky. Those mountains pierced the clouds and stretched far beyond them. I stood on a jutting cliff above an abyss filled with darkness, the crevasse so deep I could not see the bottom.

Sand crunched beneath my feet. Black sand, glittering like a billion crushed diamonds.

This entire world sparkled as far as I could see.

I reached down, picking up one of the pale stones strewn throughout the black sand like stars. I rubbed my finger over the smooth surface, hardly believing what I saw. This was a keystone. My keystone.

Or…I scanned my surroundings. One of a million keystones.

"Is that why I'm here? Can the keystone kill a god?" I mused, the words carried off by the wind as I turned the stone over again and again in my hands. Footsteps crunched behind me, and I whirled, reaching for my magic out of instinct, finding nothing in my veins but hollow emptiness.

A man strode up to me with an arrogance I should have found insulting.

Beautiful. Deadly. Pale eyes the color of peridot, an enormous sword strapped to his back with a golden pommel. Long silvery hair braided strangely and bound by silver rings stamped in a language I could not read.

A different body, a different face, a different world, and yet, I knew him to the very core of my being.

"Tavion." I threw myself into his arms and burrowed into his chest, drinking in his wild, woodsy scent.

"Ardaric, here, I believe." He laughed and ruffled my hair. "And you're Amalla, and because some things never change, I came to find you before you got into trouble." He frowned over my shoulder at the deep ravine that had no bottom, then at the stone clutched in my hand. "That's a keystone."

"They're everywhere." I swept my hand across the sandy ground. "Thousands. Millions."

"Is that our answer, then? The keystone is the weapon we need to kill Corvus?"

Maybe it was my imagination, but our enemy's name rang over the stone, slithering down the edge of the ravine, only to be swallowed up by the inky darkness. A small stream dripped over the edge, and even when I listened hard, that water never splashed down.

As if the ravine had no bottom.

I shrugged. "I don't know. The stone doesn't feel like the right answer." I took a hesitant step toward the edge. "Maybe we're looking for whatever's down there. That darkness…isn't natural."

Tavion—Ardaric—nodded. "Whatever's down there feels wrong, like the blight. Like the shadows that came behind the creeping rot." His sword slid out of the scabbard silently, nearly as long as I was tall.

"What are you planning to do? Stab something? We came here for answers, Tavion."

"That's a strange name. One I've never heard before."

A young boy in his late teens wandered toward us with a generously freckled face and big blue eyes. He was dressed plainly, brown pants tied at the waist and a loose linen shirt, his hands plunged deep in his pockets.

Every hair on my body stood up, Tavion sweeping his hand out and shoving me behind him.

"Why is that a strange name?" I asked, futilely trying to pull up my magic, to find any kernel of power inside me, but there was nothing.

"You don't belong here." He waved his hand at Tavion. "You look like us, you sound like us, but we both know you are not from this place."

"Where is this place? And who are you?" Tavion demanded with a wolfish growl, as if he, too, was reaching for magic that didn't exist here. I set my hand on his arm and stepped around him, willing him to follow my lead.

"We got off on the wrong foot." I laid my hand over my chest and gave the boy a half bow. "I am Amalla. This is Ardaric. What is your name?"

The boy smiled. "You well know who I am, my queen. And so does your mate." A furrow formed between his blue eyes. "You know not to come to this place. If you awaken them, you will destroy us all, for if they escape, there is no more blood to seal the tomb."

I nodded, pretending I understood what he was talking about. "Yes, and I have no intention of waking…him. I was only checking to make sure he still slumbered."

"Him and his foul sister." The boy wrinkled his nose. "The cost was far too high to imprison the twins, and even our queen would have to answer for waking them."

"How did they end up down there? Who imprisoned them…with blood?"

The boy's lips quirked as he looked between us. "Is this a test of some sort? Or a game?" The smile fell off his face. "Though games were more your sister's forte."

"The twins are no game," I told him seriously. "They are evil and dangerous and a threat to our survival. But as a test…tell us the story of their imprisonment, as you remember it."

"After years of wanton destruction, Saphrax and Vitigis captured the twins and brought them back to Empyrean to answer for their crimes. You, as our queen, cast them into the Pit after accepting the sacred sacrifice as the price for their permanent imprisonment."

The boy looked at me expectantly.

"What were their crimes?" I asked softly, swallowing. "And what was this…sacred sacrifice?"

"They ravaged half our world before Vitigis stopped them. He fell during their capture and will always be revered for his selfless act to save this world. Gattica and Saphrax volunteered to pay the cost of our world's survival, so the balance would forever be maintained."

"What balance?" I asked slowly.

"Imprisoning a god has a cost. Blood for blood. A life for a life. Two of them locked away forever, two of you had to die. Balance."

Horror sluiced through me.

Exactly what Cosimo had said was written on that page of symbols. To stop them, I'd—we'd—have to sacrifice ourselves in the process.

Tavion and I traded a look before he slowly sheathed his sword. "Is the world saved?" From where I stood, this realm—except for the abyss before us—was beautiful, with twin moons rising overhead, the sky still blushed that perfect shade of pink. "In your opinion, I mean."

"We are saved, but should they ever escape, they will devour this world like they've devoured every one before, and since only the two of you remain, you would both have to die to lock them away. There would be no more gods."

"We should kill them, then." My gaze drifted to the ravine, the darkness that seemed to be listening to our every word. "Kill them and end this for good."

"My queen…only sacrifice is accepted as payment. The only punishment can be imprisonment. Not death, never death."

The boy's eyes flared wide, his mouth open as if I'd said something profane.

"Killing is forbidden," he breathed, so pale every freckle stood out. "Even mentioning such a thing…" He dropped to his knees onto the sandy ground, where grains of sand trickled toward us in a long, wavering line. "You must take the words back, my queen. Now. Before it is too late and the peace you have wrought is for nothing."

"I take them back. I…forgot. In my anger, I forgot our laws."

The sand stopped moving, but the darkness of the ravine seemed to gather itself, ready to burst up out of that hole in a fury of fangs and claws. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but the boy's blue eyes smeared, his face blurred, then pain burst through my arm like fire.

"Anaria. Wait." Tavion gasped, reaching out his hand to grab me as darkness swept up out of that pit and engulfed us both.

I blinked up at the ceiling of the stone chamber where blue light danced like ripples on the water before Raziel's face came into view, his eyes raging as he swiped his sleeve across his mouth.

"Don't ever ask me to do that again, princess," he snarled, then he picked me up and slammed me against the wall hard enough my teeth rattled. "Now stay right there and don't move while we kill the rest of them."

I blinked again.

Behind Raziel the entire chamber was filled—fucking filled—with whatever Tristan had faced earlier. Night Crawlers scuttled back and forth, lunging with those deadly taloned feet and snapping pincers. Zorander yanked his blade out of one's eye with a splash of blood, spun, and sliced through another, barely avoiding those deadly jaws, strong enough to snap his leg in half.

"Don't…" I stumbled away from the wall, still getting my bearings. "Don't get the blood on you." But my words were lost in the melee, every sound amplified by the arched stone walls.

Three of the things lay unmoving in front of the portal, but gods, there were still so many.

Tavion had already joined Tristan, fighting side by side, their movements calculated and smooth like they'd done this a hundred times before.

The nasty bugs had cornered the mule. The poor thing was kicking and squealing, and I ripped my jacket and the bands off, blasting short, controlled bursts of magic toward the creatures dragging the poor beast into the tunnel.

More of them poured from the opening.

Enough to overtake us and crush us from sheer numbers alone.

"Get down," I shouted, my words still ringing off the walls when I unleashed a wave of starry black, sending magic hurtling through the writhing horde, shearing off legs and heads and spiny shells. The wave disappeared into the tunnel, only dying shrieks echoing back out.

I took one look at the black, soupy mess staining the floor, black vines already slithering toward us. "Holy gods, we can't stay here." The sharp sound of feet skittering across stone echoed out of the mouth of the tunnel.

So much for getting answers. We'd run out of time.

"I'll hold them off. Get Anaria through the portal." Zorander planted himself in front of the tunnel opening, and I nearly lost my breath before Raziel yanked him back.

"Don't be a fool. Someone catch the mule and let's go."

The portal swallowed us up as we plunged into the light together, none of us especially caring about the devouring cold. All of us wondering only one thing—whether or not those things could follow us through.

As it turned out, they couldn't.