Whatever light had touched her out on the lawn was gone now, giving way to the darkness of the Wander. She allowed her glamour to fall, wincing at the prickling feeling of her false skin peeling away to reveal her true form. But it was easier this way. Her vision was better, her senses sharper, and her joints didn't feel the restrictive tightness that they did in her human form. She breathed the freedom of her form into her lungs, closing her eyes at the feeling of the wind caressing her true skin.
The footsteps behind her were getting closer, but it didn't matter. The burn of the tears in her eyes and the scream lodged in her throat were too much of a distraction for her to focus on much else. She hadn't felt this aching in so long, this painful pull that drove her back in the direction of her past.
And though the day of her capture was one she liked to forget, she still remembered every bend and curve of the journey that brought her here. She could still feel the rocking of the wagon, the deep throb of iron against her skin. She remembered those unwavering eyes watching her as she cried and begged for her pain to be taken away.
She remembered moonflowers.
With an enraged scream, Nymiria collapsed onto the stones below her feet, her hands bracing her fall before her head could smack against the ground. Her fingers fisted the dirt between the intricately placed river stones, weaving into the soil and pulling at the energy that came from the earth. The desire to pull it into her soul was overwhelming—a thirst so strong that she could think of nothing else. If she could only conjure her Grace, the earth would swallow him up. Keep him from getting too close. But that didn't happen. No matter how desperately she wanted it, Greia did not grant her her wish.
"Of all places." Aziel huffed from behind her, his footsteps still just as loud as they were before. Only now, his pace was slower—languid and fluid, like thegraceful stride of a predator hunting prey. Nymiria crawled into the spiral of stones, one hand slipping into the pocket of her gown to retrieve the tiortha, but strong arms were suddenly wrapping around her waist, hoisting her to her feet.
Another scream ripped from her throat, her hands clawing at the leather gloves that clutched at her, her legs kicking out and thrashing, begging to connect with any solid object that could overthrow him. She bucked wildly, tears spilling down her cheeks as his mouth grazed over the shell of her pointed ear. "I'm not going to hurt you." He breathed. "But I do need you to calm down."
"Go away." She snarled, his hold loosening just enough for her to spin around. It was a natural instinct for her to lash out, her leg flying out to kick at the vulnerable place between his legs. His fingers gripped her ankle, halting her movements entirely.
"We're not doing that." Aziel smiled. "Though I may deserve it, I need to talk to you."
"I don't want younearme."
His smile didn't slip, but his fingers relaxed around her ankle, letting it fall back to the ground before he turned and looked at the spiral of stones on the forest floor. "It's understandable, truly." He shrugged. "Happiness is not an emotion my presence invokes in people very often."
Nymiria watched as he brushed dirt from his perfectly tailored suit, straightening the barely-noticeable wrinkles their little spat had created. When their eyes met, Aziel let his hands fall to his side. "Why did you follow me?" She shoved hair out of her face, eyes still following him as he approached the pedestal at the center of the small labyrinth.
"Wrong question." He sighed, plucking the small flower that had been left on the pedestal. "Try again."
"I'm not playing games with you, Aziel."
"Good, because I'm not playing games with you either,Nymiria." Her brow drew together, her hands twitching with the desire to grab her dagger and end it all here. The only conclusion she could come to about him hunting her down wasthat he'd somehow found out about Dorid's plans for him. He was going to kill her. Probably. "I already told you why I'm here. I just want to know ifyouknow why you are here."
"Because it is myright."
He kicked his head to one side. "A right bestowed unto you bymy father?"
She let out a disgruntled sound, finally lifting her skirts, fingers wrapping around the hilt of her dagger. The moment she raised it in his direction, his hand was at her wrist and the world shifted under her feet. When her back collided with the ground, a heavy weight settling on top of her, both hands pinned above her head. With the simple slide of Aziel's finger, he flicked the dagger from her grip.
Again, he smiled. "You're pretty quick with a blade for someone who is only supposed to be a courtesan."
"Get off of me." She sneered. He moved immediately, rolling off of her and scooping up her dagger as he rose to his feet. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Iwantto know why you followed me here. I don't have any other questions to ask you."
"That's a lie." Aziel sighed. "You have a lot of questions. But since you are in denial of all of the burning desires in your blood, I will ask you something." He slowly turned to her, extended his hand in her direction. Nymiria only growled at him, scrambling to her feet and shoving him out of her way. "Do you come here often, Nymiria?" He asked calmly, as if her anger meant nothing to him.
And why would it? Why would anything she felt matter to him? She shook her head incredulously, stomping through the foliage to the center of the labyrinth. She wished he would just come out with the purpose of him being here instead of her having to be interrogated.
This place was special to her—to Owen, really. She hadn't allowed herself to come here in months, which was usually the case around this time of year. It was nearing the anniversary of his death and to be faced with the things he held dear to his heart was unbearable at any other time of year. Now, though, it felt impossible. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, ignoring the sensationof eyes watching her. She felt them everywhere—assessing her, judging her for the things she'd done to survive.
"This place was special to someone that I cared about." She muttered, fingers trailing over the pedestal, dipping into the runes that decorated its weathered surface. She didn't dare to look at Aziel, but she knew that he was watching her. "He brought me here. Years ago. When he discovered what I was." She shook her head, trying to fight back the instinctual habit of retracing her memories. "This is theAnamAltar. He believed that being here would make me happy—make me feel closer to the gods that my people worshiped."
"And?" Aziel hummed.
Nymiria shifted her gaze to him, their eyes meeting just briefly before she looked back to the runes and flattened her hand against the carved stone. "The gods are dead, Aziel. Or theyaredying. There is no other way to explain their absence." She shook her head, a single tear rolling down her cheeks and splattering onto one of the runes. "There is no other way to explain why they would have allowed all of this to happen." When Aziel said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, Nymiria looked at him again, sucking in a small breath when she realized he was now right beside her.
"I think you're right." He nodded, his gloved hand covering hers. "Do you know what happens when gods die?" Nymiria shook her head, her stomach turning over when he moved even closer. "Their power leaves their corporeal forms and if they have not chosen someone to fulfill their roles, it absorbs back into the earth. The essence of their power remains, but it isn't as strong. It is the beating heart of their loyal servant that makes the power stronger. Gives itlife."
"Is that what happened with Greia?" The question seemed ridiculous to ask, but she had to know—had to have some kind of confirmation in order to receive closure for all that'd happened. "Her power absorbed back into the earth?"
Aziel tilted his head to the side, eyes still following the path her finger made on the runes. "No." He stated it so simply, so harshly that it took her by surprise, hereyes fixing on his face in hopes to gain some kind of understanding of his anger. "She found an heir already. And we've been waiting for her for a long time."
"We?"
