Empire of Secrets: A New Adult Paranormal Romance with Young Adult Appeal (God of Secrets Book 2)

by L. R. W. Lee

  “Can we stop?”

  “Another time.”

  A while later, he glides downward toward an island we’ve been flying over for the last few minutes. A dense jungle has overrun much of it, so much so that I question where he’ll land. Birds in abundance chatter and squabble as we descend.

  “Welcome to Kivarna.” His gold and silver eyes are bright, watching my awe as I take it all in.

  I feel the top of a rubber tree brush my behind as we approach a clearing I hardly see through the dense canopy, before he’s hovering, then lowering between branches.

  I feel like I’m in what I picture the Amazon to look like as he sets down on a dirt platform of sorts from which old and broken stone steps descend to another rock outlined area.

  “What is this place?” Dense moss hangs heavy from many of the branches and thick vines that have taken over, making them look like they’re wearing fuzzy sweaters.

  “This is the ancient city of Mete, the first major city of the empire.”

  “A… capital?”

  “The original. But it was so humid, and the jungle was always closing in on us, that I moved it.”

  He moved it. He did. I shake my head.

  “So what you’re saying is, Idris is right, you are an ooollllddd guy.”

  “If you say so.” He chuckles, then points. “Come.”

  The jungle heat is hot, and I undo my long coat as we pass an ornate fountain cut into a hillside—water runs from the gaping mouth of a carved face, complete with beard, into a pond abounding with lily pads.

  Harpoc continues playing guide, moving aside some growth, removing others with a thought, as we venture on.

  “I thought secret magic only works when there’s a secret to keep.”

  “That only applies outside the empire,” he says over his shoulder, ducking beneath more low-hanging, moss-covered vines.

  I follow and nearly run into him when he stops suddenly.

  “There.” He points through a break in the thick vegetation.

  “Oh, Harpoc. It’s beautiful.” I draw a hand to my chest hardly able to conceive of what I’m looking at. My archeological juices start flowing, big time.

  It’s a valley from which the skeletons of a host of elaborate buildings rise.

  Of course they do. If Mete was a major city, there would have been lots of buildings. Harpoc wasn’t kidding when he said the jungle was always closing in, because tall trees tower over much of the ruins, their roots entombing some buildings entirely in their clutches.

  Harpoc’s smiling, enjoying my delight.

  “Did you design this? How long did it take to build? How many people lived here?” I can’t staunch the flow of questions that bubble up as we continue.

  He just laughs.

  “Hey, I’ve never had access to the architect and builder of a ruin. The best I’ve ever had was uncovering documents.”

  We pass by more remnants that I can tell were amazing in their time; one looks like a three-story gazebo to the left, another, an ornate arch that spans the path that looks like a portal—except I’ve already been transported to a magical land.

  Harpoc built all of this. He’s sexy and beautiful and seemingly young, but he built all of it. The immensity of the thought brings me up short. I knew he was old. I did.

  “I was created at the foundation of the worlds.” His words from a few days ago, when he revealed that he’s the god of secrets, circle through my mind and my brain freezes, unable to compute.

  He’s a god.

  He’s been sealing secrets this whole time.

  And I expect to change that?

  Chapter Nine

  I blow out a breath.

  I thought it was bad when I realized Idris wouldn’t be an ally in my cause, but I now realize the true immensity of the task I’ve set for myself. It’s bigger than I ever fathomed.

  You can’t give up, Pell.

  If not for my inner voice, I just might because while the double standard is completely unjust, how the deuce is little ol’ mortal me going to sway the ancient, immortal god of secrets.

  “Pell?” Harpoc’s doubled back. Worry mars his handsome face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He gives me a long look, one that says a one-word answer doesn’t make a person okay.

  Harpoc’s expression remains skeptical, but he takes my hand in his and leads me to where a tall set of moss-covered-stone stairs wind up a hillside to the left.

  “This is what I want you to see.” He nods and we start to climb.

  We’ve scaled at least thirty steps and my breathing labors.

  “We’ve Only Just Begun” starts playing in my head as I make the mistake of looking up at the mountain of steps remaining.

  Thirty more steps, then another twenty-five, and I’m panting full out. I’m sweating profusely in my coat with these tropical temperatures. Harpoc hasn’t broken a sweat.

  Show off.

  Harpoc pauses before I pass out and mercifully waits for my breathing to slow. It wouldn’t be so bad if the steps weren’t practically vertical. Thankfully I’ve scaled two thirds of them.

  You can do it, Pell.

  Good old inner voice. I may hate her commentary at times, but there’s something to be said for positivity.

  Love you too, Pell.

  I can only roll my eyes. Great, now she’ll be even more impossible to live with.

  I’m met only with humming, inside my head.

  “Onward and upward,” I say, then mount the next and next steps.

  I’m never so glad to reach the landing because before me is a plaza of sorts, albeit broken by roots growing through its tiles, from the army of trees that stand in a straight line. Its sides are surrounded by the shells of buildings with one particularly colossal one directly ahead.

  “This is my former palace.”

  My archeological juices haven’t stopped flowing, and the sight of this only makes them race all the more. I feel like a kid in a candy store, and Harpoc’s delight at my reaction only spurs their flow.

  Harpoc shows me many of the highlights over the next hour or so until I’m full to brimming.

  “I could spend days here.”

  “I’m glad you love it as much as I do.” He pats the spot beside where he’s sitting, on a low part of the wall that spans the front of the plaza, overlooking the city.

  I join him, setting my coat beside me on the ledge, then enjoy the view. But after several minutes of silence, I look over and see that his shoulders are tense and his jaw muscles bulge.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask.

  He draws a hand to his lips and starts tapping his finger.

  A rolling feeling besets my stomach; the fairies are up to no good, and it only gets worse the longer he thinks.

  I bite my lip as he finally turns and faces me.

  “You’ve, no doubt, noticed people giving your ring long looks.”

  I rub the back of it as I look at the silver band. It’s my one connection to my parents and the impetus that has shaped my entire life, starting with learning to read hieroglyph.

  “There’s a reason.”

  I furrow my brow.

  Harpoc clears his throat. “I promised to be forthcoming. I’ve wanted to tell you since I brought you here…”

  “But…” My tone rises, because it’s been a couple days.

  “… but I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news.” He rubs the back of his neck.

  With him acting like he is, I can only imagine the worst. My stomach clenches, and I grab hold of the ledge.

  Gold eye, silver eye.

  He has a habit of rocking my world, why does it feel like he’s about to again?

  “When I explained to you how sealing a secret works, you commented that no one had ever shown up and made you the offer to hide a misdeed you’d done.”

  I nod, remembering the conversation. “I got ticked when all you’d say is, ‘You're a special case.’” I make the words
sound as dorky as they’d sounded to me when he said it.

  Special case, my eye.

  Harpoc blows out a long breath. “Pell, your ring blocks secret magic.”

  I furrow my brow, then look down at the silver band. “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said, it blocks secret magic from impacting you.”

  “But it’s just a ring. Well, not just a ring, it’s special to me, but…”

  Harpoc shakes his head. “No, Pell.”

  “How would you know?”

  He forces a chuckle. “I am the god of secrets.”

  Memories of people noticing my ring from the beginning when I first arrived—folks in the halls, the core, everyone—flit through my mind.

  “I know you’re a god, but…” I’m not getting this. At. All. “Why would I have a ring, that you say blocks secret magic?”

  “Do you remember when I told you that secret magic can’t erase memories, only prevent them from being formed to begin with?”

  “Yes.”

  “That ring made it so you never even knew about the possibility of sealing secrets. No one has ever mentioned it to you, have they?”

  “No….” I’m studying his face. He’s being earnest; I can see it in his eyes, but I’m still not understanding.

  “You said people gave you strange looks at the library when you asked about learning to speak hieroglyph. Your ring is why.”

  I tilt my head, at a complete loss.

  A serious expression mounts his face. “Secret magic enables a being to automatically understand any language, written or spoken.”

  How my ring has anything to do with that is beyond me, so I say, “It does?”

  After Harpoc’s interaction with the sphinx, I remember wondering if his magic gives him knowledge of all sorts of languages. But that was before I discovered this empire speaks hieroglyph as its official language.

  “Imagine me being summoned to seal the secret of a being I don’t know the language he or she speaks. It’d be difficult. Secret magic breaks through that.”

  “That’s cool.”

  Harpoc takes my hand in his. “Do you remember what happened when you had me translate the inscription on your ring?”

  I look into his eyes and see only sincerity.

  “I handed you my ring, and you read it. ‘The beauty and simplicity of truth reveals all, let it always guide you.’”

  “Yes, but what else happened?”

  “What do you mean, what else?”

  “Something else happened.” His tone turns insistent.

  I think hard, then snicker when I remember one very minor thing. “Well, I busted you for letting your shadows reveal themselves before you translated the inscription. I’d hoped you’d appreciate my ring, but I hadn’t expected you to get quite that excited.”

  Harpoc’s not sharing in my humor.

  Our gazes connect and he says, “Pell, those weren’t my shadows.”

  “What do you mean, they weren’t yours?”

  He doesn’t so much as twitch, just continues looking into my eyes.

  My mouth drops open as understanding dawns. I draw a trembling hand over it. “You’re not suggesting….”

  Still he doesn’t move.

  “Harpoc?” I’m terrified of what he’s going to say, but I have to hear it anyway because it can’t be.

  “Pell, you have secret magic.”

  “I what?” My breathing labors.

  “You have secret magic, but there’s more…”

  But of course there is. My heart races.

  “All beings who wield secret magic… are immortal.”

  Immortal. Immortal. Immortal. The words clang in my skull.

  “And you think I…” I want to laugh, this has to be a joke.

  He nods, then rubs my ring finger with his thumb.

  “Surely, no…” It can’t be.

  “Pell, take off your ring.”

  I look between him and my ring a time or two. He’s the only one I’ve ever taken it off for.

  “The note… the note that was left with me said to never take it off.” My heart’s going to pound out of my chest. “How… how would my parents know…” I’m choking on the words. “… about… about secret magic and… and… and why would they give me a ring that… blocks it?”

  “Pell, do you trust me?”

  We went through this only a few days ago so I know he’s asking more to remind me than question. “You know I do.”

  “Take it off, Pell.”

  My whole body’s trembling at the immensity of what he’s suggesting.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he says, when I haven’t moved a minute later.

  “A lot…?” My tone turns snide, and I blow out a breath. How do I even begin to process through… what he’s suggesting? There’s no way.

  “Pell….” He’s still waiting.

  “If what you say is true….” I can’t accept, much less wrap my head around any of it.

  “Will you let me help you?” His voice holds only sincerity.

  “Why’s it matter if I take it off?” This can’t be. He has to be wrong.

  “Pell, it’s not for me.”

  He thinks I need to see… so I can’t deny. I’ll be forced to grapple with…

  This is crazy. There’s no way.

  What if he is right, Pell?

  My inner minion’s having just as hard a time as me, but she’s always been more reasonable.

  If he’s right, and that’s a huge “if”….

  My gut goes hard.

  He thinks I’ve got secret magic and I’m immortal.

  If that’s so… he knew and didn’t tell me.

  “You promised to be forthcoming.” I put bite into the words.

  “I did, and I am,” he whispers. “Will you let me help you?”

  Gold eye, silver eye.

  I close my eyes and look away—as if that’ll make things better—then lift my hand.

  Ever so gently, Harpoc slides the ring down my finger, and I steel myself against… what I fear, what I can’t fathom, what will turn my world upside down, again, if it’s true.

  Trouble is, with him as confident as he is… no, I can’t go there. Not yet.

  He stops once my ring passes the first joint, but before it’s off.

  “Pell….” Tenderness fills his voice.

  He might as well remove a spear from my shoulder or something equally dramatic for how this feels.

  I inhale deeply, then let it out again, still looking away.

  It’s a full minute before I finally nod.

  I swallow hard as he slides the ring off, and I crack open an eye, daring but not, to look.

  Tears spill the instant I take in black wisps pouring off my hands, my feet, through my clothes, from every part of me.

  I cover my eyes and sob, letting the tears fall with abandon because I’ve no more ability to hold them back, much less stop… this… whatever this is… whatever I am.

  I shriek when the wispy shadows brush against my arms, then my face. It feels like bugs are crawling on me, wherever it touches.

  Harpoc tries to pull me close, but I push away.

  It’s not his fault, but I need someone to blame because I don’t have a fucking clue who my parents are or why they wouldn’t have told me—‘never take your ring off’ isn’t in the same galaxy as ‘you’re immortal and have secret magic.’ I loved them even though I never met them. Never once did I blame them for the life I’ve endured.

  But in this moment, I know… my life is a lie.

  Chapter Ten

  I’m beside myself as I stare at my ring, where I lay on the sofa in the living room. It’s where I spent the night.

  I don’t want to think about finding a blanket over me this morning, after I cried myself to sleep.

  I haven’t spoken to Harpoc since I left his side after he tripskipped us home, at my request—I couldn’t get away from him quick enough—but his words keep running th
rough my mind.

  “Pell, you have secret magic.”

  “Your ring blocks secret magic.”

  “All beings who wield secret magic are immortal.”

  I’m immortal. After seeing those… things coming out of me…

  It was so disturbing.

  No thanks to Harpoc, I can’t deny. I know he meant well, but…

  I still can’t wrap my head around it. The facts make coherent what has never made sense to me at my core—why my body hasn’t developed like other females—so there’s a peace of sorts, despite all the lingering questions, but I still can’t accept. What does “immortal” even mean?

  Since I have secret magic—that thought sends another chill through me—will I have wings? Will I be able to do all those parlor tricks Harpoc does?

  My stomach sours. Will I be forced to seal secrets like a good little lieutenant?

  I can’t even contemplate it.

  My parents knew. That thought’s back.

  Every time it surfaces, feelings of treachery and betrayal come along for the ride. Why would I have a ring that blocks secret magic? Who are my parents anyway? And why did they really give me up? What else about my past has been hidden from me?

  Fear fills my stomach.

  I can’t bear to think about it further. It only makes my heart hurt worse.

  But my mind won’t quit. I sit up suddenly and draw a hand to my chest as the time Harpoc rescued me after Zeki’s abduction stampedes behind that memory. I’d kidded him about being too big and bad for me, a mere mortal.

  He’d chuckled and replied, “You’re hardly that.”

  But the next instant, his eyes went wide, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.

  “You’re hardly that.” I didn’t understand at the time, it was another of his frustrating secrets, but I do now.

  Harpoc is as guilty as my parents. He knew way back on Earth that I’m immortal and never told me.

  If he had, would you have taken it any better, Pell?

  I shake my head, not wanting to confuse the issue with the facts even if my inner minion might be... . No, I can’t go there.

  I lie back down.

  Harpoc has upended my reality thoroughly and completely, one more time. Trouble is, I’ve absolutely no idea where to begin to work through it this time. None. Losing a job, a career is one thing. Coming to believe in ancient mythical beings being reanimated, while hard, I tackled and got through. But this?