Why have the Otherworlders done this? If it were merely for mercury alone, then they’d have invaded our countries many times before now. They’ve been getting their mercury from somewhere, as their world doesn’t seem in want of it. And clearly they’ve been abducting people from lands outside of the Three Realms for their cage fights. I hardly think kidnapping the Nactue for their sport is worth the war they waged this past week against two countries.
So . . . why?
Before the full moon.
Lilly spoke the same words as Carina when she was explaining about the Otherworlders’ invasion. Still, I don’t have any idea what it means. But this must be the missing link stringing everything together. I have to find a way to talk to Lilly in private.
“Kal . . . ?” Caben breathes my name near my cheek, drawing me back to the now. “Are you here with me?” His arms loosen their tight embrace, but don’t release me completely.
I take in a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine,” I say. And he finally removes his hold. The sweat-slickened skin of my arms, back, and waist are suddenly cold as the chilled air around me replaces his body heat. I shiver.
The sounds of the crowd—stomping and drumming and cheering—come flooding back. Then I’m acutely aware of the mercury swirling violently in my blood. When Caben attempts to turn me around to face him, I shrug off his hand. “Give me a minute.”
“Fine,” he says, exasperated.
“What would you have done if they were about to stun your best friend?” I ask him over my shoulder.
He’s quiet a moment, then says, “I didn’t realize she was your best friend. If I’d have known—I guess I would’ve held the brute while you wailed on his ugly face.”
The corner of my mouth twitches into a half-smile, and I chuckle. “Thanks.” The mercury slows in my bloodstream. My heart begins to beat at a normal rhythm. I check my wrist and watch the inky, tainted blood fade below my skin.
“Let’s go!” Bax shouts over the chaos of the city street.
The feather brothers move our line forward as the guards along the side of the road open the chain barricade. I walk steadily beside Caben, but glance once behind me to spot Lilly. She walks among her league, head held high. I smile, though I hope she doesn’t allow her attitude to get the best of her here. She needs to go along with things until we have a plan.
Before I turn around, I glimpse Kai walking in Lilly’s league. I say a silent prayer of thanks to the goddesses for keeping them together. I can’t find Willa or Van, so I assume they’re Collar’s contenders. With another prayer for their safety, I face forward and enter the narrow street with my league.
My heart aches for the fallen Nactue. Before my time expires down here, I’ll not let Missa’s, Carina’s, and the other former Nactue’s deaths go unavenged. We’ll find a way out. And we’ll stop the Otherworlders. Whatever their plans are, whatever their sick minds are plotting, we’ll end it.
My eyes flick over the prince’s form beside me. I think back on my initial impression of him, and though he’s still a spoiled heir, I admit he’s now surprised me a few times.
“You never answered,” I say to him.
He looks over and cranes an eyebrow. “Answered what?”
“Where is your best friend now?”
His full lips thin into a hard line, and his blue eyes deepen against the creases of his furrowed brow. He jerks his head forward. “I don’t have one.”
My lips part, but I decide against questioning him further. Maybe his friend was killed during the Otherworlder raid on Perinya. Or maybe he had to give up his friendships as part of his duty to his kingdom. Instead, I nod lightly, and let the heavy drumming solidify the wall between us.
Along the streets, Otherworlders dance and cheer as we walk past. It’s disturbing how young some are—just children. They wave as if we’re in a parade, and I suppose to them we are. Some pretend to fight each other with sticks and fake swords, mimicking their favorite sport. Their parents hold them on their shoulders, so they can get a better view of the doomed contenders.
A quarter of a mile into the inner city, Bax turns to us and glares. “Wave, you idiots.” He points his sword hilt toward me, the blade flat against his ripped, pale forearm, singling me out. His order is clear. And Crew was right. I’m his favored contender and he believes where I lead, the other contenders will follow.
Lifting my chin, I counter his command with a stubborn glare to match his own. His glowing eyes penetrate mine, and I decide to take my own advice. It won’t do me any good to anger him. I need to at least earn some semblance of trust in order to find privacy.
I plaster a smirk on my face and raise my hand to the bystanders and wave. Caben snaps his head in my direction and eyes me, suspicious. But he doesn’t ask. He simply copies my action and waves to the crowd. Even flexes his biceps a few times. He truly knows how to be on display.
A content Bax raises his arms and makes a “bring it on” motion with his hands, encouraging the gamblers to invest in his league.
I take in the massive numbers of Otherworlders—there are so many. I hope this means that they’ve vacated Cavan. That the Council can bring Empress Iana back to her home and somehow the goddesses will save her life if they don’t retrieve the relic.
Maybe the Otherworlders really are mad, and the attacks were random. No. I don’t believe that. Mad, yes, but I witnessed their raid on my city. It was clever, tactful, and well planned. Anger boils in my chest. I wish the goddesses would send me a clear message, something that would lead my thoughts in the right direction.
As we near the end of the street, a tower rises up before us, lit with crackling white-blue lights like on the Cage. The currents snap and lash against the darkness. Its massive turret branches out at the top, reaching into the air like a claw. The low drumming stops.
I stare up, transfixed. My heart beats heavily against my breastbone and clamp. Then warmth engulfs my hand. I don’t look over at Caben, but I lace my fingers through his, accepting the comforting touch.
Bax turns to us, his leer in place. “Contenders! Kneel before the Temple of Bale.”
Bax leads the leagues of contenders and their ring leaders over a rickety rock and plank bridge toward the tower. Below flows a river of murky, silvery mercury. It bubbles on the surface, slowly moving in a stream that surrounds the dark temple.
From my childhood, I recall vague stories of the Otherworlders’ deity—of Bale. Of how centuries ago she once ruled alongside the goddesses, but was cast out because of her hatred for humanity. She started plagues and illnesses, suffering and wars. And the goddesses—seeing that she was out of control—banished her below the earth.
Where the Otherworlders now call home.
That’s only legend, though. Stories told through time to give reasons for why there is sickness and death and enough hatred to war over. To explain why the Otherworlders fled underground ages ago. If any of it were true, or credible, it would be in the history books we’re given about the goddesses during protector training.
Bax raises a clenched fist, halting us, and we stop just feet away from the giant dark doors of the temple. He raps twice with a large, bronze knocker. After a few seconds, the doors begin to part, filling the air with a low, hollow creak.
An Otherworlder dressed in a black robe stands in the doorframe. Her dreaded coils of hair are pulled into a high bun, and dangling silver earrings bounce against her shoulders as she sweeps her pale hand through the air, inviting us in.
The inner sanctum of the temple is a wide hallway that opens up into a larger chamber as we walk. Miniature sized spires run floor to ceiling, the chemical, light-filled vessels giving off a dark glow. The walls are leafed in silver and gold, copper and bronze; every mineral imaginable has been wielded into images and symbols I don’t recognize. Except one.
The moon.
On the farthest wall of the chamber, high above a dais and gleaming sliver arch, a platinum moon catches the glint from the spire
s. A ring of mercury runs along its circular edge, denoting an eclipse that cascades down into a black marble fountain.
Alyah, guide me.
A dark figure emerges from the shadows of the room. He’s robed in black. His pale skin is wrinkled, and sharp bones shape his face in distorted angles. If I squint, I can see the semblance of a human man beneath the weathered, monstrous features.
He presses his palms together, his fingertips just beneath his pointy chin. “You have brought Bale the shards?” he says to Bax expectantly.
Bowing his head, Bax stares at the floor. “No, My Liege.” It’s the first time I’ve encountered a hint of fear in Bax’s voice. “But we have garnered worthy contenders for the Reckoning. It’s only a matter of time before our spies find—”
The dark priest turns his palm out, halting Bax’s excuses. “The contenders are worthless unless the shards are produced.” He steps down from the marble dais and stands before Bax. His milky eyes hold Bax captive. “You will find the Perinyian protector, and you will discover Laryn’s protector, as well. Both shards will be found before the eclipse or you will sacrifice yourself in penance for your failure to Bale.”
Bax lowers his head farther. “Yes, My Liege.”
Now the spindly priest casts his eyes on us—the contenders—and an icy shiver slithers down my spine. His hazy white eyes take in each contender one by one. When they settle on me, I feel as if his gaze is searing the flesh from my bones. Unwrapping me layer by layer, searching my being.
“Contenders,” he says. “I find you worthy tributes to Bale. Good luck during the Reckoning, and may the victor bear the freedom ring for all eternity.” His eyes slit, and the creepy smile that crooks his thin lips steals the breath from my lungs.
Then we’re being lead back out of the temple.
That’s it?
All this parading us through the streets and being taken into scary temples so that the Otherworlders’ evil priest could determine our worth to fight in the Cage?
I shake my head as we make our way back over the rock bridge. I wish that the Council would’ve taught us more about the Otherworlders. Truths of their customs and beliefs. I wish I understood exactly what’s happening.
A pulse ebbs through my chest. It starts low, building into a faint, separate heartbeat. Warmth spreads through my body, washing over me in waves matching the beat.
I stop walking.
The empress.
Whipping around, I slash at the air with my arm, knocking Caben and the other contenders aside as I push my way toward the temple. I’m at the door before Bax registers the contenders’ shouts.
“Get back here, you fool!” he snarls.
But the pulsing in my chest pulls me through the temple, searching. It arrests my senses and my mind. I have to find the source.
Coming to a sudden stop, I waver on the balls of my feet. A slight breeze could knock me over as my eyes find the thing calling to me.
The crystalline relic.
The dark priest is setting it in a carved out nook just below the moon. His back stiffens, then he turns around. His beady eyes ignite in the black light.
“Protector.” He hisses the word like a snake spits venom.
Bax grabs ahold of my arm and yanks me backward, his nails digging into my skin. “My Liege,” he labors. “Forgive me.” He bows quickly before forcing me out of the sanctuary.
My eyes stay on the relic and the pulse continues to beat against my heart. The empress is alive. But she’s getting weaker. And I’m just feet away from the thing that can save her and my home.
“Release me, bottom-dweller,” I shout.
Bax grabs my other arm and turns me to face him. His eyes widen, sending me a silent message. “Stop,” he says. Then his forehead relaxes. His features mold into softer lines, revealing the man beneath.
My neck muscles tense, but I allow Bax to usher me out of the temple and back onto the bridge with the confused contenders.
“Get back in line, protector,” he commands, his face returning to the hard-set lines of the ring leader.
Caben captures my hand. “What are you doing?”
I open my mouth to explain, then think better. Too many ears listening.
Krewl interrupts my thoughts. “Looks like his father gave him another free pass,” he says to Collar. “. . . always gets away with . . .” His voice fades out.
My eyes squint as I watch Bax move ahead of his league.
Father?
Caben quit his questioning as Bax led us down a side street toward the Cage and cell. The main street was already clearing out by the time we left the temple, and the music and cheers that filled the air were gone, returning the Otherworld to the eerie whipping of the fan blades and clanking steam devices.
The whole walk back, my mind reeled. I’m still trying to piece together what I heard in the temple. But the sight of the relic, the very thing that can save Empress Iana, keeps invading my thoughts.
Caben tugs on the sleeve of my tunic and jerks his head to one of the side tunnels. I nod and follow him through the winding, dark tunnel. We find one of the secluded chambers Bax spoke of, and I wonder how many contenders are killed off before they ever enter the Cage. Maybe it’s best if we lock ourselves away from now on.
After he closes and bolts the door, I pull him into the corner. “What was all that about the Perinyian protector?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He drives a hand through his dark hair. “Maybe he meant the king. As in the ruler—”
“No,” I say. “They are looking for someone very specific and who’s still alive.” I press my lips together, sorry that I have to remind him of his father’s death. But we have to figure things out. “Something you said before . . .” I trail off, thinking aloud.
His blue eyes hold my gaze. “About what?”
“The crest,” I say as it comes to me. “You said your father told you to guard the crest—that you’re its protector.”
Caben’s eyebrow cranes, and he shakes his head. A laugh tumbles from his upturned lips. “Oh, no. That was just my father’s eccentricity. He’s always been melodramatic with family lineage.”
I scan the prince, searching his body. He crosses his arms, and a wave of heat splashes my cheeks when my eyes slip over the sliver of skin revealing his hard abdomen as his tunic draws up. Forcing my eyes to continue their search, I look at his hands.
“Where’s your ring?” I ask. “The one that bears the Paynebridge crest? Did you throw it out before we were captured?”
Caben’s arms wrap tighter around himself, and he cocks his head. “I still have it,” he says low. “I’ve sworn to protect—” His eyes widen. He’s made the connection. Finally.
Reaching behind his head, he ruffles his hair and yanks. I cringe at the ripping sound. But when he opens his hand, the ring is there in his palm.
Without talking, I accept the ring. He flashes me a warning with his eyes, as if I might run off with it and hand it over to Bax. I simply glare at him, and he huffs. I remove the thread that he had tied around the band in order to knot it to his hair, then run my fingers over the crest.
I’m certain there is more to this ring than its symbolism. The Otherworlders wouldn’t invade a whole country merely to take a token of lineage from a king. I study the silver of the winged serpent, and the oval blue sapphire beneath. Then I flip it over and trace the backing.
There.
With deft movements, I twist a nearly invisible cog on the inside of the band.
The silver-plated backing springs open. Caben reaches out and catches it mid-air. We glance at each other before we both dip our heads closer to the ring. Inside lays a tiny sliver of crystal.
A shard.
“How didn’t I know—” Caben starts, then shakes his head. “How could he have kept this from me?” The blue of his irises deepen, and his brow pulls tighter, his features troubled—betrayed.
“It’s discovered now,” I assure him. “I�
��m sure you father didn’t want to endanger you with its truth unless forced.”
“What truth?” Caben asks. “That the Otherworlders burned my kingdom and killed my father for a chip of glass?” His anger burns blue-white in his eyes, the black light adding to the effect.
Again, I’m at a loss on how to comfort him. Why did his father keep this from him, yet put the danger right on his person? A ribbon or anger coils around my chest. His father’s action wasn’t as abhorrent as sticking a syringe in Caben’s arm and poisoning him. But he still endangered his son for the sake of protecting himself.
His father probably wanted to keep the shard close, and having his son wear it, he’d have access to it at all times. I inhale a deep breath, then try to focus my thoughts on what needs to be done now.
“Put this back in its hiding spot,” I tell Caben. “As long as the Otherworlders don’t have it, they can’t complete whatever it is they’re trying to do.” I slip the shard and backing back into place.
Caben reaches out and grasps the ring. His warm fingers trail over my palm. My skin flushes, my heart quickens, and my stomach muscles tighten against the tingling sensation when his fingertips linger a second longer on my skin. I swallow down my nerves, shaking off my anxiety as he attempts to reattach the string to his hair.
The sight of him trying to do this, for some reason, makes me smile. I shake my head. “Turn around,” I say. When he concedes, I part his dark hair, my fingers taking in its softness, and begin to tie the string to a strand in the middle.
His shoulders tremble, and he gives himself a shake. “Sorry,” he says, abashed. “Haven’t had someone play with my hair in a long time.”
I raise an eyebrow, surprised. Surely the prince has women fawning all over his rich, lustrous locks daily. “I find that hard to believe.”
Whipping around, he turns on me—my hands freeze midair from where they were just in his hair. “You have too many assumptions about me, protector.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap. “Not now that Bax has taken a liking to it.” Caben’s forehead creases, his mouth parts, and I groan, feeling bad for my outburst. I’m ashamed that I’ve allowed the Otherworlders to turn my title into something vile. “Just . . . sorry. I don’t like how he says it. And it’s fresh.”
Of Silver and Beasts (Goddess Wars) Page 13