“Every god has an heir. One from your realm who represents them in power and soul. They are our chosen champions. The people we have chosen to guide and shape for the games we play. You are mine. Just as Quinn is Neiss’.”
“What is the point of an heir if you’re undying and immortal?” Risk asked, carefully treading around his demand.
“To play the game, of course.”
“The game to end all games,” Quinn whispered as the pieces of what she’d heard over her time there slowly started to click together.
“The game to end all games?” Risk repeated.
Chilled fingertips grazed her cheek, turning her face toward his.
Mazzulah smiled, and it was beautiful, if not terrible.
Man or woman, both his forms were a sight to behold. They were alluring and enticing in such a way that you didn’t see how utterly devastating the god was until it was too late.
“My beauty listens,” he murmured.
“I’m so much more than my pretty face,” Quinn replied just as softly.
“I know. I wouldn’t want you if you weren’t.”
Quinn scoffed and shook her head, which only made the god laugh. He liked her because she was cruel. He took her disinterest as a game itself, though he didn’t seem to realize the reason for it. Or perhaps he did and simply thought that death was a long time—and permanent enough to make her reconsider.
“Once upon a time when the world was new, Mazzulah was not the dark god, but the king,” Quinn said. The god himself leaned back, making no move to stop her. He seemed interested in how she would tell the story. “The other gods thought this unfair. Why should he be king? Was his power truly so great?” Quinn looked from him to her sister as she continued. “So, they devised a game. One where our world was the board and the Maji they created were the pieces. The heirs that were chosen were powerful beyond compare. They were as close to the gods as one could come because the gods wanted to see who truly deserved to be king—or queen. The light gods won.”
“We were cheated,” Mazzulah corrected. The first hint of his temper showing as his onyx horns straightened and the golden insignia upon his forehead began to shine.
“Cheated or not, you were exiled here—along with the other dark gods.”
“How were you cheated?” Risk asked.
He cast her a calculated glance before saying, “Children of the dark are always more powerful. Most were too weak to contain the darkness. Few lived to maturity. Even fewer survive their ascension. How can we play a game when our side has almost no pieces?”
“Let me get this straight. You want me to stay here and train with you until my ascension, and then Quinn and I are to win this war?” Risk asked.
“The other heirs of the dark gods will help.”
“There was no war when I left Norcasta,” she pointed out.
Mazzulah smiled darkly. “But there is now. Or rather, there will be when the king’s present arrives.”
“Whose heir is Lazarus?” Quinn asked.
Mazzulah didn’t answer her immediately. When she turned to see why, he seemed contemplative. “Beliphor. His heirs are the only Maji by nature that possesses the power to defy death. As they devour creatures of magic and steal their essence by force, in turn, the creatures devour them. Should they not die . . . they would live as we gods do. But when they do, nothing remains. For there is no soul to pass on.”
Quinn shivered. If he died, there would be no going to the dark realm.
He would simply be gone.
“You’re saying there will be war, and Lazarus will be the cause of it?” Risk asked.
Mazzulah lifted his eyes from Quinn to her sister. “I’m saying that there must be war. If I allow Quinn to return to the plane of men, you must fight, and you must win—because that’s the only way to free me.”
Risk froze, but Quinn, she did not react as people did. She did not understand fear the same.
“You wish to be freed from the dark realm?” Quinn asked.
“I wish to return to my realm. Ramiel and the other gods of light stole it from me and locked us away here. The only way to reclaim my home and my place as king and queen—is for you to win.” He paused in speaking, and Quinn could have sworn that the winds changed. The dark sun fell below the horizon and the blood moon rose. With it, he shifted from a man to a woman, and she held Quinn all the same. “This is what I ask of both of you, and for nothing less will I part with you.” She pet Quinn’s side, making it clear who she meant.
Mazzulah, indeed, wanted everything.
“I’ll do it,” Risk said in a rush of breath.
Quinn quirked an eyebrow. “You should consider this, sister. The dark realm is—”
“You gave me everything,” Risk said. Her blue eyes seemed brighter against her pale ashen face and the sable skies. “I will not leave you here. Haspati said my ascension nears. I will not be here for so long before I return. Trust me to do this. Let me win your freedom as you won mine. We will have this war—and for you—we will win it.”
Quinn’s throat felt thick as she swallowed.
The arm around her waist lifted, silent permission for her to go to Risk.
She rose and padded from the throne to the other end of the dais.
“I did not deserve you,” Quinn whispered as she wrapped her arms around Risk. Her sister’s form was thin and tiny by comparison. She desperately hoped that Risk knew what she was doing because she hated leaving her here. Mazzulah had promised to release her once she ascended, and Quinn was not a good enough person to pass up a second chance at life. Not when there was still so much to do . . .
“No, sister, it is I who didn’t deserve you,” Risk said into her chest. “But I will.”
She hugged her tight. Tighter than she ever dared to in life.
“It is time,” Mazzulah said, moving from her throne to stand beside them.
Quinn released her, and for a moment, she felt despair.
For the sister she had only just got back.
For the sister that she gave everything not to lose.
Quinn turned to the god of the dark realm and pressed her lips against hers.
Mazzulah purred in delight. Her cold hands grasped Quinn by the waist as she pulled away.
“There are two things you must know before I let you leave.”
Quinn lifted her chin because freedom was in her sights. She was close. So close . . . and if she did this right, she could have everything.
“Tell me,” Quinn said.
“The first is that you will not return as you were, but as you are. As a fear twister you are used to walking between realms. Now you will walk all of them and only take the form of the flesh if you choose. But if you die again, there will not be a second chance. Just as the soul eater will turn to nothing, so will you.”
Quinn nodded. That was better than she’d expected. To return as she was, she would not be bound in the same form that brought her to death the first time. She would be stronger.
She would be . . . invincible.
“And the second?”
“If you fail and lose the war, your king will not have to worry—for I will be coming for you and sending death for them. Provided that you’re not all dead to begin with.”
Her lips parted.