“While he tries to find us you mean,” Lyr said, her eyes meeting mine. “Tries to find me.”
“That, too.” My fingers flexed violently at the thought. At the idea of Imperator Kormac getting his hands on her. On actually marrying her to that gryphon-shit ass of a son he’d spawned.
Over my dead body.
I nodded wearily. “In a month, at the end of winter, the Emperor will be hosting a Valabellum for Asherah’s Feast Day.”
Meera squinted. “What? A Valabellum? But those are … they’re—”
“Barbaric?” I offered. “Old-fashioned?” I laughed, the sound grim. “My father did something similar after an akadim attack here. It proved to be quite a distraction.” And a tragedy. It was the event that made me forsworn. I could feel my blood heating at just the thought of that day.
“Your father held a Valabellum?” Lyr asked.
My throat tightened, as I threaded my fingers through hers. She still didn’t know the whole story. “Something else. An Alissedari.The fight takes place on gryphon-back. To end it, only one person has to die.” I bit back a sudden burst of nausea. Memories of that day felt more visceral than they had in the year since it happened. They’d plagued me ever since we’d crossed the Glemarian border. That day was threaded into the scent of pine in the air, in the cold breezes I felt, and every time a gryphon roared. I squeezed Lyr’s hand, remembering that what we were about to face was somehow worse. “AnAlissedariistame in comparison. I never thought I’d think of that event as merciful.”
I felt suddenly wholly naked and vulnerable in a way that I hadn’t been before with Lyr. Like she could see what had happened to me. And even worse, see the horrible things I’d done. See all the ways I failed. I had to tell her everything. She deserved to know. But I was still afraid this would be what made her see me differently.
“Are you sure?” she asked carefully. “The Emperor’s really hosting a full Valabellum?”
“Yes. It was all anyone was discussing today, everywhere I patrolled. They’re already recruiting soturi for the fights, and casting the roles.”
“Casting?” Lyr asked in disgust. “Lumerians are auditioning for this?”
I nodded grimly.
The Valabellum was a reenactment of the War of Light, simultaneously a proper soturion fight, and a theatrical play. Dozens of battles would be staged throughout the arena. But unlike a habibellum, which was merely practice, this was a fight to the death. In the final event, seven soturi took on the roles of the seven Guardians. Asherah, Auriel, Cassarya, Hava, Ereshya, Shiviel, and Moriel. Anyone could die in thelead up, and many would. Each fight represented one of the battles told in the Valya where endless numbers of Lumerians perished. There were no rules in the fight, no limits and many risked death by nightfall. But there was one death above all that was guaranteed.
In the final fight, whoever played Moriel was expected to die. Historically, it had been considered an honorable role to play. A worthy sacrifice.
It was a call back to the earliest days in Lumeria Matavia–when the Gods could still come down to earth at will. Dying wasn’t a big deal back then, bodies could be shed and then regrown at will. Killing would have been a spectacle, brutal, and shocking. But ultimately meaningless, because the dead would reappear in a new body the next day. At least, for a while that was what happened. After enough time had passed, around the time the Valalumir had been created, the deaths began to stick. And those who’d planned to return to Heaven were stuck, living until old age in their mortal forms. Those who’d died, remained dead, their souls lost until they were reborn as another—with no memories of their past life. When Asherah and Auriel were banished, most Lumerians were already trapped.
“Those who are meant to die in the arena will no doubt be assigned carefully,” I said. “I would expect the Emperor and his elites to have picked out their sacrifices before even announcing the games.” The role of Moriel would be given as punishment. Some Arkasva would pay a lot of money to see their chosen enemy killed in such a way.
Lyr’s face fell. “That means Lumerians from all over the Empire will be traveling to Numeria. Including the Imperators.”
“There’s going to be an increased presence of soturi everywhere,” I said, “and far too many of them know our faces. It’s not just going to make it harder for us to get to thePalace, but nearly impossible to get inside,” I said. “And even if I find Jules …”
Lyr swallowed roughly. “You’ll have to get her out yourself.”
I frowned, nodding. I couldn’t jump holding two people at once, much as I’d tried.
“Even so, we need to get closer. We need to learn the grounds as soon as possible,” Lyr said. “Inside and out. We have to know the schedule of everyone who works and lives there. We’re going to need to get access somehow to the blueprints of the Palace, too. Find out exactly where they’re keeping Jules.”
Meera shook her head. “Blueprints like that aren’t going to be available to the public.”
“They’re not,” Lyr said. “But some were stored in the preservation rooms in the Great Library.”
“Bamaria’s out of the question,” I said. “But, the Library of Glemaria has copies. I know where they’re kept. They might not be up-to-date, or reveal every secret. But it’s a start.”
“Let’s go then,” Lyr said, her voice almost hopeful. “Can you bring me there? Now?”
“We can’t,” I said. “Not right now. Lyr, you’re still not recovered from the healing you’ve done. You’re freezing. I’m not taking you anywhere until your body temperature returns to normal. And I’m certainly not letting you out of this cave until you’ve rested. Now lie down.”
She scoffed. “Are you serious right now? I can’t do that. I won’t. Now that I know for sure where she is? That I know we only have a month?” Her voice rose. “Morgana and Aemon are going to be there. And if we’re not faster than them, we might never get her back.”
Just like Asherah.
The thought came unbidden. A sudden memory unlocked. My Goddess was fiery and headstrong, protective to a fault.And she was quick to sacrifice herself for the ones she loved. For me. For Auriel.
