by Lynette Noni
“I’m sure,” Alex croaked. Clearing her throat, she said, “But I was told Vae’varka was made of traesos.”
“It is,” Zaylin said, running an agitated hand through her hair. “That weapon is pure darkness, with just a single drop of liquid starlight added to allow for its sentience—as opposed to A’enara, which is pure light and made entirely from starlight.” Beginning to pace, Zaylin continued, “If Aven has Vae’varka in his possession, he has the means to kill any immortal being with a single scratch.”
Swallowing, Alex whispered, “I know.”
Stopping in front of her, Zaylin leaned in and, with furious eyes, hissed, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? This is something my people needed to know!”
Not understanding what seemed to have been taken as a personal affront, Alex tentatively said, “Why?”
“Because if we’re to join in the fight for your world, then our rulers need to be aware of the risks—of what we might be facing. Neglected as our skills now are, the danger is already great. But against the might of Vae’varka…” Zaylin trailed off, her features tight.
Quietly, Alex said, “I didn’t think it would make much of a difference, since when the time comes, I doubt anyone other than me will be fighting against him.”
The look Zaylin sent her was cutting. “And if you lose?”
Earlier, those words would have eaten Alex up on the inside. But now, she just stood taller and returned, “That’s not an option I’m willing to entertain right now. So you shouldn’t, either.”
Zaylin’s anger dissolved and a hint of an approving smile touched her lips. “Very well.” She eyed the weapon Alex still held in her hands and said, “I suppose if anyone is to face Aven and succeed against Vae’varka, it would be one who wields and commands A’enara. Never before in the whole of history have the two weapons crossed blades.”
“Well, as of last week, they have.”
“That, I would have liked to have seen,” Zaylin mused. “Perhaps I’ll yet have the chance to witness the Balance of Power seeking justice against the Bane of Life.”
Alex hoped so, because it would mean the Tia Aurans would have come to her aid. But part of her also recoiled at the idea, since it would mean she’d be fighting Aven again. Despite knowing it had to happen, she wasn’t in a rush for that encounter.
Banishing her weapon, Alex focused on Zaylin. “I said before that I thought A’enara had been created by your people, but you’ve clearly shot that theory down.” A wry grin met her words, and she continued, her curiosity getting the better of her, “So what about the Library? Soraya de lah Torra—‘the Light of the Worlds’?”
Zaylin blinked. “What about the Library?”
“Did your people create it?”
Another blink. And then Zaylin threw her head back and burst out laughing. It was the purest sound Alex had ever heard from her, full of genuine humour, genuine warmth.
Nevertheless, Alex crossed her arms and said, “Why is that funny?”
It took Zaylin a moment to compose herself, but when she did, she said, “No one created the Library.”
“Someone must have,” Alex pointed out.
Zaylin shrugged. “The Library just is. It has always been, just as it will always be.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Does time make sense?”
Crinkling her forehead, Alex said, “What?”
“Time,” Zaylin repeated. “When did it begin? When does it end? By whom and how was it created?”
“Time is a construct,” Alex replied. “It exists as a point of reference. You can’t create time—it is what it is.”
Zaylin looked at Alex with arched brows, apparently believing her point had been made.
“It’s not the same,” Alex argued.
“If you truly believe that, then answer me this: who decided that time was to be a point of reference or how such a ‘construct’ would work? And more, what happened in the time before time—what made time, time?”
Alex felt her temples begin to throb.
Zaylin quickly made it known that she didn’t expect a response. “There are just some questions that will never be answered, Alex. This is one of them.” She paused meaningfully and finished, “The Library can’t be explained—it can only be experienced.”
Alex had been led to believe as much before, but she’d presumed the otherworldly, ancient race might have had more information. Evidently, she’d been wrong. And yet, as headache-inducing as Zaylin’s time analogy was, Alex grasped her point. Time just was. And that was also the case for the Library—it just was.
Is, was, and forever will be, Alex mused. And I thought the Library couldn’t get any more mysterious.
Needing to know that at least something she’d learned about the Tia Aurans during her time in the past was true, Alex said, “So it’s a ‘no’ to A’enara and a ‘no’ to the Library, but the Valispath—that was you guys, right?”
Zaylin grinned. “Yes, Alex. That one was us. A gift to the Meyarins, long before we banished them.”
“Why did you banish them?” Alex couldn’t help asking. “What happened between your two races that led to the Immortal Wars?”
A shadow passed over Zaylin’s face. “That’s not a story for mortal ears, nor is it something you need to know, despite your curiosity. But suffice it to say, they sought to be more than they were, and they didn’t care what damage they caused in order to receive what they believed was entitled to them. Their pride was ultimately their downfall, their banishment devastating on a larger scale than you could ever comprehend. For my people, as well.”
Already knowing about their inability to bear children, Alex wondered what other consequences the Tia Aurans had felt in the wake of the Immortal Wars.
“I can’t help getting a fallen-angels vibe here,” Alex said, thinking the comparison remarkably apt.
Slowly, Zaylin said, “I’m not sure I know to what you’re referring.”
Alex waved aside her confusion, knowing better than to try and explain. “I’m sorry you went through all that with them,” she said instead. “I can’t imagine what it was like, your two races pitted against each other.”
Zaylin held her eyes and quietly said, “I think, of all people, you can indeed imagine it, Alexandra Jennings. But I sincerely hope the outcome of your own war is more favourable to both sides than what resulted between the Meyarins and the Tia Aurans.”
Alex hoped so, too.
“Enough of this,” Zaylin said, unsheathing her sword once more. “Despite your readiness to return to your friends, they are not in your room right now, with the five of them currently out wandering the city.”
Alex wondered how Zaylin could possibly know that, since she had been here the whole time. But given how little Alex knew of the Tia Aurans, she wouldn’t be surprised to discover they had some kind of mental link between them, just like the draekons. Regardless, presuming Zaylin was right and her friends were spread out across Vardaesia, there was little point in Alex heading back just to wait anxiously for their return.
“Assuming you have no other urgent matters to attend to,” Zaylin went on, “I could use some practice.” She raised her blade. “And you, while mortal, are an acceptable opponent.”
“Acceptable?” Alex smirked at the Tia Auran, summoning A’enara as she taunted, “In case you missed it, I kicked your ‘sloppy’ ass just before.”
“Perhaps,” Zaylin acknowledged, her silver eyes sparkling. “But had you been anyone other than who you are, that wouldn’t have been the case.”
At Alex’s questioning glance, Zaylin returned her smirk and explained, “If my people are only equal to the Meyarins in fighting prowess, how do you think we managed to conquer and banish them?”
“Since you wouldn’t tell me, I have no idea,” Alex said pointedly.
Zaylin’s smirk widened and she said, “Let’s just say yours wasn’t the first race to be blessed with gifts.”
Alex
’s body stilled with understanding. “No freaking way.”
Twenty-Three
In response to Alex’s exclamation, Zaylin pointed a finger to the three Gates and they instantly rose from the clouded gap into the air. But rather than spinning as they had every other time Alex had seen the same manoeuvre, they instead jumped from one side of the dais to the other, criss-crossing above her head, like the arches were playing a fiery game of Leapfrog.
“Unlike mortals, Tia Aurans are only gifted with the mental arts—telekinesis, telepathy, empathy, mind reading and the like,” Zaylin explained, still directing the Gates in their very own choreographed dance until she released them and turned her pointed finger to Alex. She made a sharp flicking gesture, enough that Alex winced, fully expecting to be flung up in the air beside the fiery arches, before reasoning made her recall that her own gift protected her—as it must have done during their fight, if Zaylin’s earlier declaration was to be understood.
“Of course,” the immortal woman said, having noted Alex’s knee-jerk reaction, “I learned the very first day we met that you’re different from your friends—and from any other mortal I’ve encountered.”
“Let me guess,” Alex said dryly. “You tried to read my mind?”
“Actually, I tried to throw you off the balcony.”
Alex’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t even twitch,” Zaylin continued, not the least bit apologetic. “Then I tried to read your mind. With no success. But since I’d heard you explain in the throne room how your gift freed you from Aven’s Claim, as frustrating as it was to see for myself the strength of your willpower, I can’t say I wasn’t intrigued.”
“Let’s go back to how you tried to throw me off a balcony,” Alex said, a warning to her tone.
Shrugging unrepentantly, Zaylin said, “You can’t have missed that I wasn’t fond of you when you first arrived. And can you blame me? You ventured here with the sole purpose of disrupting the peace my people have experienced for millennia. I didn’t care if you were protected or not because it would have been a win for me either way—seeing evidence of your gift being true, or sending you over the side of the palace.”
Alex pursed her lips. “Interesting mind you have, Zaylin.”
A quick, devious grin met her words. “You have no idea, Alex.” Then Zaylin’s expression turned serious again as she continued from earlier, “Meyarins have speed, strength, grace and agility as a race, along with advanced intellect, reflexes and a host of other skills—all of which Tia Aurans have as well. Only in our ability to use mental gifts are we set apart, and therein lies the main reason that we were able to overcome them.”
“That’s so weird that they don’t have access to gifts but you do,” Alex mused. “Has that always been the case?”
“When it comes to natural biology, yes,” Zaylin answered. Slowly—almost hesitantly—she admitted, “But there were cases where they were able to… adopt the abilities of others. However, only at a tragic price.”
Feeling a sense of dread settle over her, Alex said, “How?”
It was clear Zaylin didn’t want to answer. And when Alex pressed her again, the Tia Auran’s jaw tightened. But warily, she replied, “Some of them—the radicals—began trapping my people and—” Her throat bobbed. “They performed a ritual on them: Tu’eh Tendaran Orvas.”
Alex’s breath froze in her lungs as the translation washed over her.
Tu’eh Tendaran Orvas.
The Devoured Heart.
Aware that Alex was able to interpret the words, Zaylin continued, “Once they’d eaten the heart of their victim, they took on their power, their strength and, for a limited time, their gift.”
A memory flooded Alex’s mind, one of Niyx yelling at her, revealing a horrific truth.
‘He’s eating them, Aeylia! He’s cutting out the hearts of the Meyarins he’s Claimed and he’s eating them. Their strength, the power of their life force, he’s absorbing it all, bite after bite…’
Niyx had gone on to tell Alex that to eat the heart of a Meyarin meant they would never rest in peace after death. But he’d never mentioned—never even said anything about what else—or who else—Aven was… eating.
Whether it wasn’t just Meyarins.
“It’s abominable, I know,” Zaylin said, incorrectly reading Alex’s shock. “But we made certain upon their banishment that the ritual was forgotten from their minds.”
Alex shook her head. Then shook it again. Whispering through stiff lips, she said, “Then something went wrong, because they haven’t forgotten.”
Zaylin jolted and then her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Holding the immortal’s gaze, Alex said, “Aven’s doing that— he’s eating… eating hearts.”
Recoiling, Zaylin whispered, “What?”
“I was told it was just Meyarins, that he was increasing in strength by stealing their life forces—but only those who are Claimed by him and fighting against his hold on their minds.” Alex’s gaze became unfocused. “If he learns about the gift transference, it won’t be long until he starts to eat the hearts of humans with gifts—presuming he hasn’t yet started to do so. He’s already beyond powerful, commanding them to do his bidding. But to actually be able to use their gifts for himself?” Alex pressed a shaky hand to her queasy stomach. “He’d be invincible.”
A long pause met her statement.
“This is grievous news indeed,” Zaylin said, her expression grave. “But there is little use worrying about it—not yet, anyway. And while you won’t wish to hear this, you, at least, will be protected by your gift, even if he has begun to adopt the abilities of others.”
Slowly, Alex nodded, knowing Zaylin was right, but wishing all over again for a way to share her gift with others—to mass-produce it and cover all those she cared about. But Athora had told her it wasn’t possible; that everyone already had free will and couldn’t receive any more.
“I think it’s time we stop looking ahead and instead focus on the now,” Zaylin said, backing up a step and raising her sword. “What do you say, Alex? Ready to see if you can beat me a second time?”
Alex was more than ready. After everything she had learned and experienced in the last few hours, she was desperate for a good workout against a capable—if ‘sloppy’—immortal. Her muscles were hungry for the familiar, comforting ache that she hadn’t felt in over a week, and she knew an energetic session was exactly what she needed to keep her mind off her newest troubles.
So, with a challenge in her eyes, Alex tossed aside her turbulent feelings and centred her mind onto the here and now, raising A’enara between them and saying, “Bring it on, Zaylin.”
And that was exactly what the Tia Auran did.
Hours passed while Zaylin and Alex sparred on the dais of the stadium, the glowing arches overhead and swirling clouds underfoot their only audience as the three suns moved across the sky and slowly lowered into darkness.
Knowing the time had come to face her friends and find out their true verdict, Alex called their fighting to a stop, both she and Zaylin panting heavily, but also sated and relaxed from the rush of their workout.
After summoning a flask of warmed laendra to heal them of their numerous nicks and scratches, Zaylin looked at Alex— waiting, it seemed, to make sure she was ready to return to the palace. Receiving a stiff nod of confirmation, the Tia Auran parroned her back to her room, instructing her to call if she needed anything—her words quiet enough that Alex knew she wasn’t just referring to the assistance provided by her as a helper, but also as a friend.
… Of a sort, at least. Because the Tia Auran was still remarkably prickly, even with the tentative rapport they’d formed between them.
Given that Alex was covered in blood, sweat and grime, once she was back in her room, she drew a bath, taking her time cleaning the evidence of her day spent fighting. As she did so, now that she was so close to facing her friends—only a room away—she realised that perhaps she wasn’
t as ready to confront them as she’d thought. While she hoped they wouldn’t blame her as violently as their fake counterparts, she couldn’t help recalling how Jordan had reacted after the Gate of Secrets, how both Bear and D.C. had sided with him, the trio unwilling to hear her explanations. Only the knowledge that they had all regretted their behaviour afterwards gave her the courage to believe for a different outcome today, and yet… she was still nervous.
Deciding to give herself a little more time to prepare her heart—just in case—instead of venturing into their common room after finishing her bath, Alex donned her silky pyjamas and sat on her private balcony, watching the city glitter under the rising moonlight.
Reclining against the golden wall of the palace, she called out to Xira and recapped everything that had happened that day, telling him about the nightmarish Gate and what she’d learned about A’enara, Vae’varka, the Library and the two immortal races themselves, as well as Aven’s cannibalism and how he might adopt and use the gifts of those whose hearts he devoured.
Seems I can’t leave you alone for a few hours without your world imploding, Xira said, sighing. How in the skies did you survive the last few weeks without me?
Because Alex hadn’t done so on her own. She’d had Niyx. She’d had her friends. But now… she had no idea what she was about to face once she stepped back inside. The Gate of Judgement might have revealed her own inner war and given her the chance to fight her lingering shadows, but that didn’t mean her friends would—
Alex, stop, Xira interrupted, reading her spiralling thoughts, It’s going to be okay. You’ll see.
Alex didn’t reply, but that wasn’t because she had nothing to say—it was because she heard a shifting, rustling sound, and she knew exactly what it was.
Xira, still linked with her, understood it as well, and he quietly said, I’m here if you need me… but I don’t think you will.
And then he left her mind, just as Kaiden appeared, climbing up and over the balcony railing.