“I must see this through,” I whispered, reality starting to tumble away. “Navan?”
“Yes, my love,” he replied, holding my hand even tighter.
“I love you.”
“And I love you,” he murmured, kissing my lips. “Come back to me, okay?”
“I will.”
No sooner had the words left my lips than everything disappeared, my brain ablaze. Szayan’s ship turned to darkness as my eyelids closed, my eyesight shifting to a different plane of existence. The familiar sensations of fire and ice tore through my body, my muscles twinging in agony, every cell blazing white hot. As before, a million thoughts and images bombarded my skull, until I thought my brain might explode. Visions of past, present, and future swirled in a vortex around me. Only, this time, there were new additions—coldbloods staring at me with cold eyes, gray flakes of ash rising into a sky of endless black. I saw Ezra stalking toward me, a glinting knife outstretched to slice open my throat.
The image shifted toward that painfully familiar sight of the universe on fire, burning planets and towering infernos engulfing civilizations. I heard the screams of Draconians, merevins, shifters, coldbloods, humans, fae, and all those in between. Titans tumbled toward a scorched earth, falling like vast pillars onto cracked deserts. The place was in ruins, and, at the center of it all, a face I could not get to focus. Fiery eyes glinted. And standing beneath the cuffed wrists of the black-eyed god, who had taken the place of Ezra, my daughter smiled up at me.
I forced the image away, and it spiraled up into nothing. Oblivion descended, leaving me in a pit of pure darkness for what seemed like an eternity. Just when I thought I couldn’t take the deafening silence and permeating shadows a moment longer, it gave way to an icy palace, a coldblood sitting on a throne with a crown of jagged icicles balanced on His head.
He rose from His throne and walked toward me down a glinting path of silvered ice, as I had expected Him to. He made no threat and held no weapons, but the heat of fire seared against my face as He neared. Shadows drifted away from His wrists, revealing the carved golden cuffs He had shown me the last time. Now that I knew what they were, I had a sense of what He wanted from me.
“You are the last Vysanthean god,” I said, my voice miraculously working. Steeling myself, I lifted my gaze and felt myself drawn within the fiery pupils. Where before there would have been agony and a sudden explosion as the vision fell away from my grasp, this time I held on. I gazed deep into His flickering, black eyes, refusing to let go.
Suddenly, everything shifted like a kaleidoscope, the pieces dispersing and coming together again. For a moment, I worried the serum hadn’t been a success—that I was being sent back to reality without completing my mission. But then, the world around me settled into a different vision, the images flooding my mind.
I hovered on wings above Vysanthe, though nothing looked quite the way I remembered it. The circle of mountains that encased Regium still existed, but Regium itself was nothing like the one I knew. There were no glinting spires, no cramped houses, no grand buildings. Instead, everything seemed simpler. There were a few structures, nothing more. I realized that this had to be an older version of Vysanthe, way back in the past, before coldblood technology evolved.
The images shifted again, revealing a crowd of coldbloods trekking across an endless plain of thick, white snow. They looked defeated, led by a man whose charisma seemed to buoy the weary travelers up. He was tall and broad-set, his skin a darker gray than most, his eyes the color of the deepest ocean—the kind of blue that was so dark it almost looked black. While his people slept, he hunted for creatures across the bitter landscape, and fed the blood of those beings to the people who followed him. They drank deep and survived the lengthy journey to a place that looked like utopia—an encased valley, within the protection of a mountain range. Here, all kinds of animals existed, and the new inhabitants savored every kill. Prayers were said over the bodies of these sacrifices, thanking them for their gift of life. Civilization had begun, and the people were happy.
The images shifted again, and deposited me in front of an icy, underground palace. I had a feeling it lay beneath the earth of the Regium crater, every room hewn from solid ice, furniture forged from tightly packed snow, with furs draped across. It was a place of icicles and shadows, and I knew who I was here for. Walking through a hallway of tinkling chandeliers, each dangling diamond handcrafted from the ice, I kept my gaze dead ahead. If I thought about the jagged icicles above, which might fall at any moment, I knew I would lose my nerve. At the end of the hall, an archway led into a throne room that I knew as well as my own home.
Across a walkway of glinting frost, a throne draped in furs towered over the rest of the room, with five steps leading up to it. A man stood at the top of the steps with his back to me. In his hands, he clutched two fiery blades, bringing them close to the edge of his icy seat, letting the searing edge melt the intricate designs away from the carved throne. Water dripped down, only to freeze on the top step, creating a pretty cascade that curved over the lip.
“I have been waiting for you,” his voice boomed, jangling the icicles.
“And who are you, exactly?” I asked, my voice trembling.
He turned slowly. “I am Rask.”
“The Rask? As in… for Rask’s sake?”
He chuckled softly. “It is disappointing to hear my name become nothing but a term of anguish or despair,” he mused, “but I suppose that is me.”
“Are you the last Vysanthean god?”
“People have called me that. Although, they forget that I was also the first.”
“You were?”
He nodded. “People look for aid in times of need. I provided hope, and they immortalized me for it. The unyielding veracity of their belief made me what I am and gave that gift to others. Even now, the people keep me in their hearts, giving me strength though so many others have been forgotten. And so, you see me here now, still spoken of with each day that passes… the last Vysanthean god. The only one they still recall.”
“Are you as powerful as a god?” The sight of the golden chains clamped about his wrists made me doubt it. Surely, he’d be able to break out of their curse if he was really all-powerful?
“I am powerful, though power does not need to be mystical in its origin. The source of my strength comes from the memory of the people—it is simple enough,” he replied. “Now, what is it you wish? Few seek me out in this manner any more, though they always desire something. You are somewhat unusual, but I imagine your hopes are the same.”
“Can you truly erase the knowledge of immortality from the minds of the coldbloods?”
He smiled. “I cannot erase knowledge, but I can hide it, as I myself have been hidden. I may push it from the memories of the people, so far back that it becomes a frustration on the tip of one’s tongue. A dusty tome at the back of a library.”
“Will it be enough?”
“Nobody has remembered me in their prayers for thousands of years. Is that proof enough?”
I frowned. “What happened to you?”
“I sought to maintain my position as a god among men… the new leaders of Vysanthe had other ideas. They did not want their people clinging to prayer and hope. They knew they had to rid their world of me, lest I seize control once more.” He sighed sadly. “In return, they clapped me in chains and sent me to this plane, where I have been imprisoned ever since. They claim I sought to take power by force, but I had no plans to do so. I wished to give the people hope, that is all.”
“So, why does everyone say you were a mischievous god, who was always up to no good?”
“Sometimes, I found myself growing bored with immortality and almighty power. I had to amuse myself wherever I could, though it was never malicious. A trick here, a mishap there, that is all.”
This guy didn’t seem too bad, all things considered. “So, you’ll do this for me? You’ll push away the memory of immortality in their minds?”
&nb
sp; A smolder of fire flickered in his eyes as he raised his wrists. “And if I give you this, you will free me, in exchange? By now, you know what these are and why they are clamped upon me. A curse, to keep me here against my will. As they forgot about me, they forgot they had imprisoned me. I have not deserved this fate.”
He was hard to read, his black eyes staring into my soul. I remembered the argument between Orfaio and his fellow Stargazer; they’d been worried about what might happen if Rask and I met in these visions. Of course, I hadn’t known it was Rask back then, but the sentiment remained. I was the risky party—I was the one who might bring about destruction if I didn’t make the right choice. But what was the right choice? Without Rask’s help, I couldn’t push the memory of immortality from the minds of Vysantheans. None of our mission would matter. The remaining rebels, or the queens, would figure out the key to immortality eventually, and the whole cycle would begin again.
“What are the consequences of me setting you free?”
Rask smiled. “There is always a price to pay, Riley Idrax. You may leave at any moment, if you feel the cost is too high.” He swept the fiery blades through the air, the flames dancing. “However, I feel you would not care for the alternative. If you cannot, or will not, release me, then the coldbloods will continue with their pursuit of immortality, and they will take over the universe. Not today, perhaps, but a few decades hence. You know this to be true; otherwise, you would not be here.”
I thought of Nova and the future she might have. I saw the burning universe behind her, Rask’s hands on her shoulders. If I didn’t give Rask what he wanted, then she would be chased for the rest of her life, because of the blood that ran in her veins. If they did not get to her first, she would be forced to watch her hopes dissipate with the coldbloods conquering planet after planet. The children of so many would suffer at the hands of a ruthless coldblood horde. I didn’t want Nova to live in that world, not if I could help it.
“What does the future look like if I set you free?”
He held my gaze. “Not even I know that.”
“You’re not as powerful as the Stargazers?”
He snickered. “My power is different than theirs. I am more… direct.”
“Will you try to seize power again?”
“I wish only to have my freedom,” he replied.
I wondered whether he was lying about his plans for the future once he was set loose. Either way, a choice lay in front of me. Orfaio wouldn’t have sent me here if this wasn’t the right option. Otherwise, what was the point? Calming my nerves, I decided that hiding the knowledge of immortality was the solution we needed right now. If Rask wanted to wreak vengeance on those who had put him here, he’d have a hard time finding them. They were long dead, and, surely, he couldn’t hold the modern coldbloods responsible for what had happened to him. No, we needed him—this was the only way to fulfil our mission.
“How do I… set you free?”
“You need only to look into my eyes,” he replied. “I mean, truly look into them, and the chains will break. I will return to the physical world.”
“I’ve already looked into your eyes, and it only brought me here.”
“You need to look deeper. See me properly, and I will see you.”
He strode toward me, coming to a halt in front of the archway where I stood. I forced my mind to focus on the fire in his eyes. Fighting the urge to look away, I held onto his gaze, sinking deeper and deeper into the flickering dark. My body melted away, everything dragged down by the flaming shadows of his eyes, until the palace vanished, and the universe raced by.
Chapter Forty-Two
I awoke with a start, expecting to see the icy palace. Instead, I felt the springs of a musty mattress beneath me and saw Navan’s eyes staring down into mine. He scooched in close and put his arms around me, rubbing comforting circles across my back.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.
Kaido was dashing around, scribbling notes and checking the monitors, while Ronad and Bashrik sat on the ground by the mattress. They stared at me in shock. Nisha and Jareth were nowhere to be seen, but those who remained in the makeshift med-bay looked terrified. What had I said? What had I done? Even Navan looked alarmed.
“I… made a deal,” I replied. “I made a deal to erase the formula for immortality from the minds of the coldbloods.”
“Can you guys remember anything about it?” Navan asked, turning to Bashrik and Ronad.
Bashrik shrugged. “I know the rebels were immortal up until recently, but… I can’t remember how they did it. I know it’s possible, but I have no idea how it can be achieved.”
“Me neither,” Ronad said, though he seemed distracted.
“No, I can’t either,” Navan murmured. “Looks like whatever you did, it worked.”
I thought of the black-eyed god and the sensation of sinking into the fiery pupils. I might not have been sure about him, but he’d kept his promise. Immortality was still something we could discuss, and we knew it had been part of our lives in recent times, but the coldbloods couldn’t remember how it was created. Not even Ronad could remember, and he was no longer a true coldblood.
“Are you feeling better?” Ronad asked suddenly.
“A bit fuzzy, but I’ll be okay.”
“Then, can I ask you to come with me?” He kept his eyes fixed on me. “I need to tell you something in private, and we don’t have long.”
“You can say whatever you have to say in front of us,” Navan replied firmly.
He shook his head. “Not this time. I can only tell Riley.”
“Orfaio is still calling the shots? I thought we were done with the Stargazer’s riddles!”
“One last puzzle piece, Navan. My piece.”
I staggered to my feet, pulling off the nodes. A wave of nausea crashed over me, and I stumbled. Navan caught me and set me upright, a worried expression on his face. Meanwhile, Kaido tutted in displeasure, the monitors flatlining.
“She is in no state to speak with you alone, Ronad,” Navan said softly.
“She must,” he urged. “I am running out of time.”
I pushed away from Navan. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call if I need any help, okay?”
“We’ll be right here.”
Ronad hauled my arm across his shoulders and helped me through to the hallway beyond the med-bay. I could feel the nerves bristling off of him, his face set in a look of pure determination. Was something bad about to happen to me? I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that it might be. There was a price to pay for Rask’s release—he’d said so himself. My mind was racing a mile a minute.
“What do you need to tell me?” I asked as the two of us stopped in the hallway. I sank down to the ground, propped up by the ship’s wall, while he sank to his knees in front of me.
“I know about Rask. I know what you did in your vision,” he replied rapidly. “And I know what happens next.”
Still disoriented, I struggled to focus. “What do you mean?”
“Rask is coming.”
“I know… I set him free.”
Ronad shook his head, gripping my hands. “No, you don’t understand. Rask needs a host—a physical vessel to move about the universe. He lost his physical body when they banished him, all those years ago. That’s why the cuffs were on display at the museum. The cursed essence of them remained on Rask’s wrists, binding him to another plane of existence. Now, that bond has been broken.”
“I’m sorry…”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Orfaio knew it would happen, because it had to. I knew it would happen, because it had to.”
I frowned. “What does all of this have to do with you?”
“Orfaio told me that Rask will come for me. He will use my body as his vehicle… and I have to stop him.” He paused, doubling over in pain. “I can already feel him taking over. We don’t have long.”
“No… why you?” I reached out to touch him, but he recoi
led.
“My genetics are coldblood despite what I've done to my body. We are linked through those genetics. He has scanned our species and sought me out as the path of least resistance, because I am weaker than the others, and more easily molded. He will reverse what that serum did, in Texas. His wings will push through where mine once were, and my skin will turn gray again. My eyes will hold the fire of his, and my bones and flesh will stretch to accommodate him. I will no longer be me.”
“Wh-What will he do, if he succeeds?” My lips trembled.
“Rask is the epitome of pure evil. He is what you would call the devil,” he replied hurriedly. “He was locked away, not by the coldbloods, but by the Stargazers themselves. With him being promoted to a godlike status, they could step in and prevent him from destroying the universe because he was no longer of the universe. He would have succeeded, had they not stopped him.”
“And they let me release him?!”
“In order to prevent the universe’s ultimate demise once again… yes, they had to let you release him. He is coming, Riley. I can feel him taking over.”
I looked to Ronad with panicked eyes. “How can we stop him?”
“My piece of the puzzle, Riley.” He lunged forward and snatched a knife from my bandolier, lifting it to his throat. “Don’t be sad, okay? It has to be this way.”
Gathering my senses, I scrabbled for the blade, gripping Ronad’s wrists and pulling them back so he couldn’t plunge the knife into his throat. I held on tight, my muscles straining. The visions had weakened me, but there was no way I was going to let Ronad execute himself in front of my very eyes. Our eyes locked, tears glittering in his.
“You have to let me go, Riley,” he urged. “You have to, before Rask comes. It’s the only way to kill him. I have to wait until he has taken over and then kill myself, preventing him from entering the physical world. Once he has chosen a host, he can’t move to another—he’ll be sent back to the plane on which he was imprisoned. He’ll remain there for eternity.”
Hotbloods 8: Stargazers Page 41