But my stomach still twisted. Worry and fear nauseating my stomach. My arms were on fire, and I could do little more than lean back against Auriel and close my eyes.
Because there was another crushing sensation weighing down on me. The akadim had known Rhyan.
He’d called him Arkturion.
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
LYRIANA
Cold spring winds whipped my hair in my face, my chest heaving as I took labored breaths.
Arkturion Rhyan. Arkturion Rhyan.He wasn’t just an akadim. He was a general. A leader. Gods. That had to mean something awful. Something more than just being a strong fighter. It had to say something about his viciousness as an akadim, about how violent he was. And still, even more than that—it meant he was overseeing the violence of others. Their cruelty. Encouraging it. Directing it.
Had Morgana appointed him? Aemon? Why? To get back at me? At Rhyan? Because we were Auriel and Asherah? Or was it because Rhyan truly fit their agenda? The prophecy the Queen had warned me about. That Rhyan could be even more destructive than the rise of Moriel if not stopped.
I sucked in a breath, and squeezed my eyes shut. Every time I thought about it, every time the words entered my mind, it felt like I was going into shock. I should have known, put the pieces together sooner. He’d been turned by Morgana and Aemon’s akadim. Of course he was one of them now. Killing and—Gods. My chest tightened and I blinked back fresh tears.
Auriel’s arm was wrapped around my waist as we rode. We hadn’t spoken in about an hour. But every time I started to feel panicked, he sensed it, and squeezed me against him, a small reminder he was there. A reminder we were still in this together. That it wasn’t over.
There really wasn’t anything else to say. Not until we were safe. And from the focused energy of his aura, and the taut way he sat, holding the reins, I knew he was determined to make that happen. To not stop until he could guarantee my protection.
Auriel swore that he recalled a cave formation he’d utilized the last time he was here. Further west, closer to the territory that put us near Vrukshire. But considering the time that had elapsed since then, a millennium, most of Korteria’s landscape looked unfamiliar to him. There were towns that hadn’t been there before, buildings and forests that had popped up. Forests that had been chopped down. He was unusually silent, watching the terrain like a hawk. I started to worry that he was losing some of his memory again, losing access to the information and strength he had as a God. But it was also entirely possible he’d just never paid much attention to Korteria while in the Celestial Realms. He had no reason to—not when I wasn’t there. Or Rhyan. Not until now.
We flew over what felt like an endless number of hills and mountains. They all looked so similar, I could understand why Auriel was confused. But as we moved toward Vrukshire, I recognized the horizon. The shape of the mountains and hills I’d seen from Brockton’s room had seared itself into my memory. Each one was filled with suntrees, their golden leaves faint under the moon and starlight. But the last time I was here, they’d been capped in snow.
When finally, another cluster of hills passed beneath us, Auriel called out in relief. “There! That’s it! By the realms, that’s it! I recognize the formation.” The mass of hills was leadingtoward a small valley. It was nestled between a mountain range full of more peaks than I could count. And to its left lay the tallest of the mountains, a peak said to be the tallest in Lumeria. It curved just slightly, like a fang.Bovrukwas the official name of the range. But it was more commonly known asMouth of the Wolf.
“Dorscha,” Auriel commanded. The ashvan’s steps tilted down, and we began our descent. Within another minute, we touched the ground, and our ashvan’s blue lights faded into the night. Auriel dismounted, but urged me to stay on and rest as he walked the horse deeper into the valley.
“Much easier to remember the landscapes over here, away from civilization,” he said, his voice was light, but there was a levity to his aura. “That town back there …” He shook his head. “Certainly wasn’t there last time. And I had definitely never seen that pub before.” He waggled his eyebrows up at me.
He was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t working. I just stared at the valley, feeling numb. Rhyan was an Arkturion. He’d been an Arkturion for a month. And Bamaria was gone. What the fuck was happening?
Auriel helped me down at the mouth of the cave, leading the way inside. He found some wood already tied together in a neat pile for kindling. But rather than watching him suffer trying to recall how to make fire again after a thousand years, I used my stave to conjure flames. My fingers had begun to feel better, though my arms still felt weak.
Laying out his cloak as a blanket, Auriel sat me down, and immediately began removing mine. He methodically unhooked my armor before he vanished—finding a small spring to wash up a cloth and clean my arms up. He gently applied sunleaves, and bandaged me up, and after making sure I was comfortable and warm enough, he sat down across from me. His eyes swept over my body, watching me. His aura was on edge, and I couldtell that now we were safe, and I’d received first aid, some of the fight and tension was leaving him. And I wasn’t sure I liked or wanted to deal with whatever had replaced it. He was clearly biting back his words.
He had something to say. I could feel it in every bone of my body.
“Don’t accuse me,” I said dully, watching smoke rise from the flames.
“Accuse you?” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I would never just accuse you out of nowhere. Unless I had something to accuse you of.” He frowned. “But since you brought it up, why don’t you tell me—what heinous sin have you committed this time?”
I shook my head. “I fought poorly. Or I assume that’s what you’re thinking. That I’m not trying to win.” I glanced at both of my arms, scratched and cut-up, covered in shallow wounds. Nothing like I’d experienced when I was injured at Gryphon Island. And even now, the cut that had nearly killed me was completely healed—thanks to the sudden passage of time in Khemet. These in comparison were nothing. They stung like hell, and made lifting my weapons difficult. I could fight—fight hard if it came down to it—but this wasn’t the condition I needed to be in when I found Rhyan. When I finally faced him. I had to be ready. And I had to aim true.
“Lyriana,” Auriel said gently, “I’m not going to say that. I’m on your side. I know you were trying to win. You fought bravely, you were strong. But?—”
“But,” I gritted.
“But I think you wanted information about Rhyan more than you wanted to get away. Which I understand. I wanted it, too. I just … need you to be careful.” His jaw muscles clenched. “So does Rhyan.” He turned away. “Did you get what you were looking for?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled my cloak more tightly around my shoulders, like a blanket. “That akadim was one of Morgana’s and he knew Rhyan. He called him Arkturion. I didn’t even know akadim had rankings.”
“They don’t,” Auriel said. “These akadim are evolved, smarter than any we’ve ever faced. But they don’t have that kind of structure. That’s Aemon’s doing. It was something Moriel enforced as well.” He sighed. “Arkturion Rhyan. That’s good.”
“Good?” I yelled. “You think that’s good? It’s bad enough he’s an akadim. But now he’s a fucking leader for them! A warlord of the undead!” I was already sick to my stomach imagining the horrors he might have committed as a regular akadim. But for the past hour I’d been plagued by thoughts of him as their commander—the atrocities he’d committed, led, and approved of over the past month had to be endless. How was I going to face that?
