Lyana and the raven stood unharmed as the warehouse burned at their feet. Tendrils of flame reached up to lick the fog while ash flurries fell from the sky, a storm of smoke and fire billowing around a moment of perfect calm. One of Lyana's hands was pressed against the raven's chest and the other cupped his cheek as he held her close. Their foreheads touched, noses barely brushing, their gazes locked as though the rest of the world didn’t exist. A white jacket hung to her knees, the silk stained with dark splotches of soot and the skirt in tatters. The raven's black shirt was shredded, his leather trousers scorched, though no burns showed upon his pale skin. Their wings fanned out in opposite directions, her pure ivory feathers stark against the night and his dragon scales simmering with heat. He was dark where she was light, and she was dark where he was light, like a mirror reflecting a perfect complement, as though they were two halves of one whole. They looked like…they looked like…a King Born in Fire and a Queen Bred of Snow.
No.
Malek stumbled as his knees grew weak.
No, he repeated. No, it can’t be.
That was his fate. That was everything he'd spent his life working for. That was the air he breathed when he was drowning, the food he ate when he was starving, the only belief that kept him going when he wasn't sure he could make it through another day. It was the weight that buried him and the strength that buoyed him up all at the same time.
Lyana was his queen.
His partner.
The only one in the world who might understand him.
Every choice he'd ever made, no matter how tough, had been for her, for them, for their destiny. They were going to save the world. He believed that with every fiber of his soul. They were going to save the world, and when they did, everything he'd done would be worth it.
"Lyana!"
He had to break them apart. He had to reach her. What could an invinci do to save the world? Nothing. He was the aethi'kine. He was her teacher. He was her king.
"Ly—"
Malek broke off as a blast of magic shattered the air, so intense it stole the breath from his lungs. Before his eyes, Lyana and the raven tore apart, the moment between them broken. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then, as one, all three of them lifted their faces toward the sky.
48
Cassi
Cassi was nearly back in Pylaeon when the magic hit, dispersing her spirit as it flooded through her with all the force of a dragon at full speed.
What the gods?
She cut across the night sky, crested the edge of the House of Whispers, and froze. The city was in absolute chaos. When she'd left her body behind, the earthquake was nothing but a subtle tremor, a nuisance, for sure, but not something to fear. Now the ground shook with such ferocity the population had taken to the sky. Ravens littered the air, their wings glinting silver in the moonlight. Their fear was palpable. Dust plumed from the streets. Booms reverberated, one after another, as walls and buildings toppled over, their foundations cracked and broken beyond repair. The river sloshed, sending wave after wave to flood the streets. Cassi followed the sparkling line back and back and back until she saw the pearlescent shimmer of Taetanos's Gate.
The god stone.
Propelled by her magic, Cassi raced over Pylaeon, ignoring the cries and shouts of a people in pure panic. Her spirit moved faster than a body ever could, and within moments she was across the valley and under the waterfall. Though she hated the feeling of passing through solid objects, speed was of the essence, so she forced her spirit into the thick cliff face, shivering as she fought the resistance of the rocks and went spilling into the sacred nest.
Something was wrong.
The power felt different. It vibrated across the harrowed walls with a rhythm she’d never experienced, not in all her hours spent spying for her king. Ravens screeched, their cries echoing in a deafening roar, the flutter of their wings like a living shadow as they swarmed the open air above the grove. Cassi floated through the trees, swerving around trunks, trying to hear over the groan of rock and the crunch of branches. The cavern shook violently. In its center, the priests and priestesses circled the god stone, their black robes a fluid curtain as they held hands and swayed in prayer, the gentle hum of their voices oddly calm. Only as she approached did she understand the problem.
The god stone had fallen.
The onyx orb no longer hovered in midair but sat against the dirt, leaning slightly to one side. It rolled with the movement of the ground, bouncing and tumbling, no longer held in place by the power of the spell. The surface didn’t shimmer with an opal sheen. No magic played on its smooth curves, reflecting like light on polished obsidian. It was dull and dark, but Cassi could still feel the thrum of magic in the room, ancient and powerful, building with each passing moment. The priests must have too, their chants increasing with the same steady momentum. She moved closer, floating over their wall of bodies then sinking until her spirit pressed against the surface of the stone. There was something inside, something moving, something—
Cassi jerked back.
A fracture split the rock and expanded across the widest part of the oval stone, cutting a white line through the black, growing and growing, until it snapped and the two sides broke open. Onyx shadows spilled across the sacred nest, flowing from the stone as the rest of the world fell still.
The shakes wracking the cavern stopped.
The priests and priestesses fell silent.
Even the ravens halted their crying.
In the eerie quiet, a man emerged from the spreading darkness, his skin rippling like the surface of a lake on a moonless night, nothing but rolling shadow. Two wings extended from his back, so wide the priests and priestesses stumbled to keep out of the way. Scales covered his skin, onyx shards refracting the light. His eyes, when he opened them, were black.
"Taetanos," one of the priestesses whispered.
They dropped to their knees before the creature, and for a moment, Cassi wondered if the people of this world had always had it right. Maybe their gods had saved them. Maybe their gods had sacrificed themselves. Maybe their gods were magic, possessing a more profound power than she could ever understand. Could this possibly be Taetanos, the god of fate, finally answering his people's prayers?
The deity stepped forward, shadows wafting off his frame to flow like a cloak in his wake. He knelt before a priest and lifted his arm to touch the man's chin. They rose together, one as inscrutable as darkness, the other luminous beneath his god's attention, hazel eyes wide and beaming. Black fingers covered in scales slid down the priest's chin to rest on his throat. Power stirred invisibly across the air and the priest's face went blank. A smile spread his lips as an expression of far-off awe overtook his features. The deity cocked his head to the side.
Snap!
It happened so fast Cassi didn’t understand until the priest’s body fell lifelessly to the ground, his head lolling against the dirt at an impossible angle.
His neck. It broke his neck.
Someone screamed. She didn't know who, but it didn’t matter anyway. As quickly as it came, the sound was cut off with unnatural swiftness. Another body fell, then another, the darkness stirring as it rolled from the creature, cloaking the air so she saw nothing but flashes. The briefest glint of light on a scaled arm. The curve of a sharp wing. A spray of glistening blood. The beast was unlike anything she'd ever seen, as though formed by magic, as if the power of the god stone lived inside of it. The fight was over before it began. The creature made no noise. Its wings hardly stirred the air. The darkness clung to it, as though made for it, and it moved with all the swift stealth of night.