The Eyes gathered up their blankets, stuffed them into huge sacks, and tidied up the campsite so it looked like no one had ever been there. Valterik was beside himself. He got to his feet, made bu and wha noises. He bowed his head as if in prayer, or in deep conversation with himself.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “Ladies. I don’t think you understand—”
Elaya jammed her sword back into its sheath. “You keep saying that. It’s very annoying. I suggest you stop.”
Valterik’s response was stymied by the small and now very uncomfortable fact that he had dressed himself in only a frayed robe. He hugged himself and vigorously scrubbed his shivering arms. The adverse reaction to his ethereal mutation that made him feel sweltering hot had clearly worn off.
Teeth chattering, he scooped up a blanket and wrapped it tightly around him. “All right, that’s a bit better. Still bloody cold. Anyways, where was I? Right, you five are damned mad. These mutations are in the hands of sorcerers. Sorcery and mutations do not mix, I assure you. Leave these sinful beings unchecked and they will rule the world. And destroy it.
“Your little friend may be important to you, and in fact he’s important to me as a scholar of sorcery, and because Wraith Walkers are all supposed to be dead… but he is gone. And we will go on a wild hunt to get him back, but not at the risk that my mutations will make it back to the Conclave.”
Elaya cupped her mug of tea with both hands. She tilted her head back and indulged in the sweet taste of honeyed peach and mild chamomile notes that made gold flake tea her favorite tea. She drank it all in one massive gulp, then belched and squared herself to Valterik.
“I don’t give one single miniature, minuscule, tiny, infinitesimally small damn about what may happen to this world. I care about its people, yes, but if there’s one thing I learned when the Twin Sisters routed me nine months ago, it’s that I can’t save the people, and I won’t save the world.”
She pushed her face closer to Valterik’s, touching the tip of his red, chafed nose to hers. “I care about myself. I care about these four friends of mine. I care about Lavery. That’s all. I’m only helping you recover your mutations because I still want the Twin Sisters dead. And you promised your assistance in that.”
“A promise that stands, if you track the thieves down.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Elaya said, “after I find my friend.” She stared at the reflection of her face in the puddles of his eyes until he finally looked away. “Saddle the horses, and let’s get out of here.”
Elaya hefted two small satchels and a swollen, overstuffed sack into her arms. She threw them over her shoulders, adjusted her belt, and stamped out the fire. The fire hissed as it died and spat up a puff of gray smoke into her face. She turned away and saw Tig and Kaun bent over a wall, looking out over the ruins.
“What are you two doing?” she asked.
“Tig says he thinks he saw something moving down there.”
“I knows I did,” Tig said.
“Well,” Kaun said, “I don’t—”
“There,” Tig whispered, jabbing him in the shoulder. “Right there!”
Kaun reeled back. “Shit.”
“Did ya see that?”
“I saw it, buddy. And it’s gone again.” He pointed at Elaya and then to the snowy land down below.
She joined Kaun and Tig on the wall. “I don’t see anything.”
“Out there,” Kaun said. “In the trees. It’s shifty, whatever it is. Only caught a glimpse of its shadow so far. Slinks between the trunks.”
Adom sauntered over. “Bear? Elk? Person?”
“Either a short elk with two feet,” Kaun said, “or, yeah, we’ve got a visitor.”
From the tree line emerged a shadowy figure. Elaya squinted. Make that two figures. They were walking closely together, as if locked arm in arm. They bobbed side to side as they moved, like a joyous, newly wedded husband and wife might.
In this particular case, the two would have had to be wife and wife. There was no man present. The snow illuminating the grounds before the ruins showed the eerie outlines of two women. The both wore black dresses and bloodstone circlets. Their hair was long and cascading and the color of ink.
Elaya knew at once who they were, and she felt the repugnant tendrils of dread knotting up her stomach, climbing like diseased vines into her chest and swelling inside her throat.
“Oh,” Valterik said, backing away. “Oh, gods.”
“Don’t run,” one of the women said, her voice as soothing as warm honey in winter.
“We only wish to talk,” said the other, her voice as lovely as a meadow of bright, fresh-smelling flowers in spring.
Their voices were… irresistible. That was the best word Elaya could come up with to describe them. While good sense told her to flee, she felt tenderness in the Twin Sisters’ words. Felt it in her heart and felt it course like a fire through her veins.
Her mind said, Leave this place as fast as you can, and don’t look back, but her body told her, Stay. Relax.
The sisters seemed to dance on the snow, their feet sliding effortlessly along. They came closer, and on their faces Elaya saw smiles. Beautiful smiles, more majestic than any she could recall.
Adom and Kaun were breathing heavily, but neither made an attempt to move. Elaya wondered if Paya and Tig were still there. She didn’t dare look behind her to confirm; the majestic sight before her was too alluring, too tempting to even consider looking away.
The Twin Sisters moved in and out of the jagged shells of busted pillars, and soon they started up the fractured staircases of the ruins. Elaya waited in anticipation for their arrival, a sort of childlike giddiness overwhelming her.
“Stop that, sister,” said the one.
“What?” remarked the other, a smirk on her full red lips. “Oh, fine. I was only having fun.”
Like the glowing embers of a fire doused by a bucketful of water, Elaya’s giddiness and the warmth simmering inside her were suddenly purged and replaced by a black void of terror.
Now, she wanted to run. But it was too late. The Twin Sisters stood before her, their beauty akin to a baleful thunderstorm that elegantly wreaks havoc.
“Do you think we’ve come to kill you?” one sister said.
“Oh, don’t scare her,” said the other. “We haven’t come to kill you. I promise. No matter what my sister may say.” She nudged her bloodstone circlet with a finger and aimed her narrowing eyes toward Valterik. “You, on the other hand—tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ve been a very bad boy, Valterik.”
Elaya was vaguely aware that Valterik positioned himself behind her, as if she was his shield.
One sister looked to the other with raised brows. “We haven’t introduced ourselves.”
Elaya forced her mouth open. Slowly, as if each word brought her pain, she said, “I know who you are.”
“Together you know us,” said one sister. “But do you know us individually? Allow me to start. I’m Aurelia.”
“And I’m Iccylus. We have you to thank, Elaya. And to a lesser extent your friends here”—she gestured at Adom and the others—“for bringing us back into the flesh. Your timing was impeccable.”
It was a mistake, Elaya thought, but she didn’t say this. That seemed an ill-advised response.
“Death is a powerful tool,” Iccylus said.
“Very powerful,” added Aurelia.
“How did you… return?” Elaya asked. A part of her didn’t want to know, but the question came nonetheless.
The sisters looked at one another and smiled. “Death is a tool,” Iccylus said once more.
Aurelia tiptoed to Valterik and lifted his chin with a long, sharp nail. “Isn’t it, dear Valterik? We asked Valterik to kill us and bind our souls to the bodies of two deceased Daughters.”
“He did well,” Iccylus said. “We’d return if the conditions were met.”
“And they were,” added Aurelia.
Iccylus nibbled her lip as she looked at her sis
ter longingly. “They were indeed, sister. Would you like to know what the conditions were?”
Elaya said nothing, simply stared, waiting.
“Of course she would,” Aurelia said. “If Silderine fell under assault or sorcery had returned to Avestas in large quantities or the reckoning had come.”
“It sounds,” Elaya said, unable to stop the words pouring from her mouth, “like you two are sorcerers yourselves.”
Aurelia and Iccylus both slapped a hand against their hearts, as if insulted. “Sorcerers?” Iccylus said.
“No, no, no,” Aurelia explained. “We’re gods, dear. There’s a difference.”
“It makes all the difference,” Iccylus said. “Without tools like death, gods are nothing.” She frowned and said, “I think you wish we were nothing, don’t you?”
From the east, morning orange tinged the sky. But gray, ugly clouds were approaching. It seemed appropriate to Elaya, given the circumstance she found herself in.
“Well,” said Iccylus, “that’s okay. We understand. People who believed in us did things to you, things they thought would carry on our name and our purpose.”
“They beat me,” said Elaya, her words as icy as the air she breathed. “They tortured me. They made me cry and wish my life would end, and they did even worse things to the men.” She closed her eyes, but that didn’t stop the memories. Didn’t black out the visions.
Aurelia bit her lip. Her pearly teeth shifted smoothly one way and the other. “Mortals pervert the wishes of gods, Elaya. We never did those things when we existed in the flesh. We set out simply to create a check on sorcery.”
“For it is a sin in the hands of mortals,” said Iccylus.
The wind whistled in Elaya’s ears, its fierce bite burning her lobes. The sky darkened even as dawn settled in. “Sorcerers are simply people,” she said. “They’re not bad.”
“Not inherently,” Aurelia said.
“Not intentionally,” added Iccylus. “Improper use of sorcery is a blight on the world. It moves mountains. It brings forth eternal winters.”
“Births summers where molten lava devours fertile soil and engulfs the spring blooms forevermore.” Aurelia tilted her head. “You don’t believe us?”
A wet flake fluttered down from the sky. And then came another, and a handful more. Soon sheets of snow plunged from the clouds. The downpour was so thick Elaya could barely see the dazzling hazel eyes that belonged to Iccylus and Aurelia.
“I’ve not seen anything like that on Avestas,” Elaya said.
Iccylus nodded agreeably. “No, neither have we. It’s unfortunate, because maybe if it happened here or on Baelous, sorcery wouldn’t have spiraled out of control.”
“What the hells is Baelous?” Tig asked.
“A land not far from Avestas. It’s where sorcery fled after the Daughters expelled it from these lands.”
Tig rolled his eyes and threw his giant hand disgustedly into the air. “Ah, bullshit. The world is Avestas and Avestas is the world.”
Adom leaned in and whispered, “The dragons had to come from somewhere…”
“I didn’t see no dragons, did you?”
“They were bloody walking with the army of corpses, you daft bastard.”
“Ah, hells. You’re right. Still don’t prove—”
“Baelous exists,” Elaya said confidently. She had never seen it in person, but Daughters were taught from a young age about the continent, and that it was full of sin and bad things. “I don’t know about other lands, though.”
Aurelia and Iccylus straightened themselves in perfect synchronization.
“You’ll know about them soon enough,” Iccylus said.
“At least what lived on them,” Aurelia put in. “Things are coming to Avestas, and we cannot allow that. We are gods of this land, and we will protect it.”
Iccylus unraveled her hand and took Elaya’s in hers. “We wish for you to help us.”
The snow now came down as thick as glass panes, piling heavy on Elaya’s lashes. “Why don’t you help yourselves?” she asked, watching the stormy winds whisk away her hot breath.
“We need to gather mutations, and those can only be found in the Ancient Lands. Gods like us… are not welcome there.”
Elaya searched for Valterik, forgetting he was behind her. “You said you made the mutations.”
Valterik looked like a turtle retracted into its shell. “Dis—discovered. Discovered is—is what I think I said.”
“He lies,” Aurelia said. “Valterik, my sister and myself brought them from the Ancient Lands. And then, he”—she stabbed an accusatory finger at Valterik—“sold them all to the Conclave.”
Valterik held up a finger as if he would soon offer clarification that would prove his innocence. “I may—may have done that, yes. I cannot say I didn’t do that. But I regretted it. That’s why I’m trying to get them back.”
“You won’t be able to,” Iccylus said.
“At least not in time,” explained Aurelia. “In the Ancient Lands, there is a place called Coraen, the City of Ice. It was there a mutation was created that allowed passage into the past and future. Those who were given the mutation passed it to their children, and now you have the explanation of how Wraith Walkers came to be.”
“Scores of additional mutations were discovered,” Iccylus said. “Ones that would help identify sorcery. Ones that would help combat grave threats to this world. Avestas needs those mutations if she will endure the reckoning coming her way.”
Aurelia lifted her square chin. “And if that peril is not reason enough to move you, then it may please you to hear you will find your friend in the Ancient Lands as well. We permitted him passage through the seal.”
Elaya found her fist clenching and unclenching on its own. “He must have had quite the horse to cover a hundred miles since last night.”
Aurelia smiled. “We encountered him during the twilight hours. He’s a friendly boy, strong. But still very young. We told him the way, and we told him who we were.”
“Would you believe,” Iccylus said, “he wasn’t afraid?”
“He swallows his fear,” Elaya said. “What if I go there, into these”—she waved a hand around aimlessly—“Ancient Lands and don’t return with the mutations?”
“Then you’ve doomed the world.” Aurelia smiled.
“I have confidence that won’t be a problem,” the second sister put in.
Those weren’t the answers Elaya wanted to hear. She wanted them to say they’d kill her. That they’d punish her severely and by grotesque means, mercilessly beating her or starving her or teaching her how to embrace pain as a masochist. Any of those answers would have allowed Elaya to confirm that the Twin Sisters were indeed abominable and unredeemable.
But they offered no such evidence beyond the life she’d once lived, which—she reminded herself—was under the iron fist of those who devoted themselves to the Twin Sisters, not the sisters themselves. Could it be, however wildly and seemingly impossible, that Aurelia and Iccylus weren’t incarnations of evil itself?
She hated questioning her beliefs. What person doesn’t? Knowing what you value and have put your faith in for so many years might be wrong… it’s tempting to plug your ears and pretend the other side doesn’t exist.
“I’ll get your mutations,” Elaya said, “but I want something in return.”
“Of course,” Aurelia said, her affable demeanor larger than life.
“We didn’t peg you a fool,” Iccylus said.
“That’s right,” continued Aurelia, “only a fool would perform a favor with no reward. Or a very charitable person.”
Iccylus elbowed her sister. “You already said a fool.” The Twin Sisters giggled to one another. “What is your wish?”
“I need to think about it. I’ll tell you when I return.”
The sisters’ smiles and giggles faded, replaced not with annoyance or fury at Elaya’s enigmatic response, but rather intrigue. “Perhaps,” Aurelia said, �
��we still underestimate you. That’s a good answer.”
Iccylus put a nail to her lips and nodded. “Maybe the best of answers. I think you’ll do just fine in the Ancient Lands, Elaya. Although I’m less certain about your friends.”
Aurelia sidled up to Adom’s flank, twirling a finger across his shoulders and moving on to Tig and Kaun, stopping at Paya. “I think, sister, that all of them will return.” She moved with uncharacteristically thunderous footsteps toward Valterik. She raked a nail under his chin, summoning him closer. “Except this one.”
“Hah,” coughed Valterik. “I—I like your, er, humor. Top-notch humor, there.”
Aurelia shouldered past him, nearly toppling him over. She rejoined her sister’s side. “Keep away from tombs, and do not listen to the whispers. The necromancer resides there, as I’m sure you’re aware, so you would do well to keep from his fortress as well.”
“Coraen, the City of Ice, lies atop Guzzard’s Peak,” Iccylus said. “You’ll see it from the moment you enter the Ancient Lands. Aim your horses in that direction and you will reach the city within twenty nights, unless a blizzard befalls you, in which case… I am sorry.”
Aurelia palmed Elaya’s cheek. Her hand felt like a cloth dipped into steamy water. It sent chills down Elaya’s spine. “May you find that the world is not as cruel as you believe.”
“And if it is that cruel?” Elaya asked, undeterred by the Twin Sisters’ pervasive sanguine nature.
“Then,” Iccylus said, her hand now lying softly against Elaya’s other cheek, “know that it wasn’t always this way. And soon it won’t be anymore.”
The Twin Sisters retracted their hands. They smiled assuredly, like a mother sending her son off to war, in full outward confidence that he’d one day return. Elaya wondered if the sisters had the same inward dread that spiraled those mothers into depression and sadness, or if she truly did have the belief of gods on her side.
Iccylus and Aurelia were gone moments later, their shadows trailing across the snowy expanse fifty feet below.
“Elaya,” Adom said. “Are you really going to do this? I mean, are we? It sounds mad.”
Reign of Gods (Sorcery and Sin Book 2) Page 11