Dravok nodded, "I will get to the bottom of it."
“There is something else. The Darlams.” Mercilessly, Itold them the rest of what Ella and I discovered, and watched my brothers’ ire rise. “The Ohrur have taken Darlam and are turning the males into so-called Space Guardians. Glorified assassins who work for them. They're also trying to breed them."
"If that is true, judgment will fall upon them," Thyros vowed. "And I will be the sword that comes down on them."
Ella’s fingers found mine and squeezed. It steadied me more than a thousand oaths.
“The Ohrur will answer,” Vaelion growled.
“They will,” I agreed. “But first, we need Earth.” I felt Ella’s pulse stutter at the word. “Daryus will not share what he knows. Not freely. His mekarry bonds also lead there. He sees the planet as his.”
"We will open a diplomatic route," Ozyrael promised. "You've done well, but this is the time for words and promises. I will go and handle it."
"Very well." I acknowledged, feeling surprised glances from my brothers, most of all from Dravok. I wasn't known for ceding ground I normally saw as my responsibility. Giving Ozyrael my blessing went against everything they knew about me. I smirked and kissed Ella's fingers. She was bringing balance and peace to me, but something else too—the wisdom to see that in this, my brothers and I were together once again. Too long had our own responsibilities clouded our judgment and kept us apart; it was time we got back together and finished what we had been meantto finish since the dawn of time: End the reign of the Dark Abyss.
Selkaris’ voice interrupted my thoughts; his eyes were unfocused, as if he were listening to a chorus only he could hear. “While you were gone, I searched the old archives to find more about Earth, hoping to discover when and by whom it was seeded. I stumbled upon something… troublesome. A first mention of the swarm.”
“The Mmuhr’Rhong,” Thyros guessed.
Selkaris nodded. “In the ash of fallen songs, there is a fragment—older than our descent—speaking of a voice behind their voices. Something sentient, something that thinks. I found only one name:The Harrowed One.”
The name didn't mean anything to me. Neither did it seem to my brothers. We all looked at each other expectantly, but none of us wore an expression of recognition.
Ozyrael's scoff was thin. “An ominous name.”
Selkaris looked at Ella. "A name that needs more investigation."
Ella swallowed. “If you agree, I would love to work with you on this.”
Selkaris inclined his head. "If the great Praetor of War doesn’t mind, it would be my honor, Earthling."
Dravok’s shadow stretched, already reaching the hall’s far doors, swallowing light as it moved.
“I will be on my way to get Nythor back,” he said, his voice soft but threaded with bryx. The words were a promise and a sentence woven into one.
He paused on the threshold, where the glow from thestar-vault met the dark he carried. “If he still breathes, I’ll drag him home. If not…” His gaze flicked toward me—toward Ella—amber gleaming faintly in the dim. “…then the Abyss will have to settle for ashes.”
Without waiting for a reply, he dissolved, leaving the echo of his vow hanging in the air like thunder waiting to break.
We started a quiet routine.Zaph and I would go off to work in themorningand meet back up together in theevening, like an old married couple. Only that there was nomorningandeveninghere. Like I said, time is a funny concept.
It would have been normal—in the way that living among gods and alien worlds can be called normal—had it not been for the fact that Zaph was going off to fight Mmuhr’Rhong while I went to the Hall of Knowledge to meet Selkaris. I tried to keep my mind blank when I thought about him during the day, tried not to think about the dangers he was in, the battles he was fighting—I had been dropped into one of his battles once, ripped through a window of light and straight into hell. The screams, the smoke, the monsters—those memories still haunted me in my sleep.
The Hall of Knowledge was as impressive as its nameimplied. Light—from unseen sources—pooled in long ribbons across the tiered desks and suspended walkways, painting the air with pale gold. I stepped from the breakfast room, where Zaph and I had just given each other our kiss goodbye, right into the hall. I was getting better at this… whatever it was, teleportation? And there he was. Like always: Selkaris, already bent over a cluster of tablets and memory-cores, hair unbound, eyes bright with the kind of focus that forgets sleep exists.
“Did you rest at all?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
His mouth tipped, not quite a smile. “Later,” he said, which in Selkaris-speak meantnot likely, and slid a stack of interface slates toward me. As usual, I had put in the translator contacts right after finishing my morning routine. They were like what we wore on Earth to see, but more high-tech. On Earth, they would have been a miracle. Through them, I could read any text my eyes fell on. The novelty of it hadn't quite worn off yet, but imagining what I could have done with them back on Earth had. With every passing day, I was becoming more accustomed to my newhome. Used to living and working among gods, sleeping with one—here I couldn't help the smile, because the sex… it was out of this world, literally.
Selkaris and I fell into our rhythm: he moved through the digital data, while I prowled the physical stacks and artifact cases. The translator contacts and the chip in my brain were barely a thought now as I turned glyphsinto meaning, teasing stories out of metals and stone. If my professors could see me now…
I wasn't even sure what I was looking for. Any mention of the Harrowed One, I supposed, or Mmuhr’Rhong. I was distracted when I tripped over a forgotten palmtop on the ground. To catch my balance, I reached out, and my hands swiped against an urn. Even while I was trying to keep on my feet, I could already see the urn falling in my mind, and the archeologist inside me screamed,No! It was such a pretty thing, a mix between clay and glass, with intricate designs I had admired before. My cartwheeling hands managed to snag it just as it teetered on the shelf, but then we both went down. I cradled it against my chest and hit my head on the stone floor. "Ouch!"
From my peripheral vision, I watched Selkaris get up in alarm. The impact made me roll, and the urn became squished between the ground and me. I heard the telltale sound of acrackandpopand groaned when I realized all my acrobatics, the swelling I would surely get on my head, and the bruise on my back were all for nothing.
Selkaris helped me to my feet, "Are you alright? That was a nasty fall."
"I'm okay," I managed, fighting the urge to touch my head, because I was still holding the damn urn. I checked it for damage and noticed that the lid that had previously been sealed shut had come loose. If that was all the damage it took, the bruises would be worthwhile. I tried the lid, popped it open, and out came a palm-sized rock. Itwas iridescent black with veins like frozen lightning.Pretty, I thought, and picked it up, thinking it was just an ordinary rock. I should have known better.
