“And what about my mother? Can’t we stop this corruption from happening?” she asked.
“Fate cannot be undone.” He sighed. “Perhaps it is best if I show you.” He motioned for Liane to follow him out the door. They went down the spiraling staircase, down the steps, and into the hall. Those they passed along the way moved aside.
He took her to the inner sanctum, which was emptied of worshippers. And he walked toward the statue of Cyra. She looked much as she did the night of the rite. But the moon was filling and illuminated her face. The Avatheos approached and pressed a button near her sandaled feet. Something clicked, and then a grinding sound rattled through the room as the statue moved aside, revealing the stairwell she’d used to get into the inner chamber below. The Avatheos went first, and Liane followed close behind. The room where they’d performed the rite felt cold and creepy without the oracles to fill it.
She feared he’d perform another strange ritual on her, but instead, he walked toward the back of the room to a door that she hadn’t noticed before now. He swung it open and revealed yet another set of stairs. They descended into the dark, led only by the torch the Avatheos carried. As they approached, she heard a sound like rushing water, and then her skin started to glow, followed by a rhythmic throbbing in her back.
“Do you feel it calling to you?” the Avatheos asked. There was a strange rapture to his voice.
“What is it?”
“The source of light, the origin of light magic,” the Avatheos replied.
The stairs ended at a door covered in markings she’d never seen before. The Avatheos pressed the markings in an order that she couldn’t follow, and then the door swung open. It revealed a vaulted room with smooth walls that glimmered faintly in the golden light emanating from the river that ran from the room. It was nothing like she’d seen before. It made her scar throb and her stomach churn.
“What is a source?”
“When Cyra wept for her sister who betrayed her, it was here that her tears gathered, and from here, all light magic flows. All those who serve the light as her priests and priestesses enter the water and are purified of what darkness might linger in them. And, as a result, they are given her visions, her healing, her strength. During the fall equinox, you shall enter the water and awaken the sealed power within you, becoming a holy warrior, her divine justice.” He stared at the vein with a sort of rapt awe.
Liane nodded, half in a trance. It seemed to be calling out to her in the way the dark pool in the ruins had. The sword in her back was throbbing, aching to be freed from her flesh.
She took a half step toward it, but the Avatheos caught her wrist and held her back. “Do not give in to its pull. Though I know the temptation is great. Entering it now might cause irrevocable damage to you. The ceremony must be completed at a time when darkness and light are in balance. In the same way it fused the sword with your back, a premature entry could kill you or, worse, allow the Nameless Goddess to use you as her wicked vessel. She will continue to tempt you until the ceremony is complete.”
Liane took a step back, and she saw at the fringes of the pool black spiderweb tendrils, nearly absorbed by the light but spreading like cracks over the glittering surface.
He reached out as if to touch her face, and Liane fought the urge to recoil. When he touched her, she felt a wave of revulsion come over her. Every instinct was telling her to run.
“You’ve experienced too many worldly indulgences. And I fear it has made your destiny harder. But I can fix you, if necessary. Because I know it is you who will save us.”
“I’ll do my best,” Liane croaked, and that seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he’d been caught in.
He stepped back from her, and his shoulders bunched. “That’s enough for today. Return to your room and meditate on what we’ve spoken about. Tomorrow you will meet more of your supplicants, whose support is vital to our future endeavors.”
She felt her mind swirling with everything the Avatheos had told her. She couldn’t save Erich; her mother would lead the realm’s destruction. How could any of it be true? She wanted desperately to believe the Avatheos that she was the goddess’ chosen. But what if he’d gotten it wrong and she was the destruction he’d foretold instead?
14
For the first time, Liane was leaving the temple, and she wasn’t sure what was worse: the prospect of facing fanatical crowds at the ball or the idea of finishing the letter she’d started to her mother about the Avatheos’ prophecy. She’d attended thousands of balls without incident before, but the shadow of her attack on the dock lingered, and her nightmares of it had taken on a more sinister twist—the people who attacked her were now her family, rotted and putrid with chunks of skin peeled back to reveal the bone.
As was usually the case, obligation won out. Luzie suggested that she act as Liane’s body double during the event. Luzie and her were of similar height and build, and should the situation get tense, they could swap places. While she didn’t love the idea of putting Luzie in danger, Luzie didn’t seem frightened at all. When Liane had protested, Luzie countered with, “We’ll be among our peers. They won’t dare swarm you. It’d look improper. Besides, it’s been ages since we’ve been out to any sort of soiree.”
With Luzie’s reassurances, they prepared for the ball. She had to admit it was the first time she’d been glad to wear the veil. This time, the level of anonymity would be welcomed. Luzie helped her get ready, excitedly chattering about who might be in attendance, what waltz they might dance, and on and on. Liane let their conversation flow over her like water as she tried to forget her concerns for Luzie’s sake. But the dark thoughts continued to swirl.
“Ready,” the head priestess declared as she pinned the sash of Liane’s robe just so.
Luzie held up a mirror for Liane to admire her reflection, and through the gauze of her veil, Liane saw a complete stranger. She was draped in gilt fabric. The crown on her head and the chains around her waist reminded her of statues of Cyra. In fact, if she weren’t looking in a mirror, she would have thought she was looking at Cyra herself. It made the small hairs on the back of her neck rise. She felt like a fraud.
There was no time for self-reflection, as their priestess entourage arrived. The priestesses and Ludwig escorted them through the temple. They descended down a flight of rough-hewn stairs that reminded her of the tunnels beneath the Golden Palace and into a storage room, where stacks of crates and barrels were crowded together. The doors opened onto a city street, and Liane braced for a mob. But it was empty except for an unmarked carriage. Luzie giggled as they climbed in. Ludwig took a seat next to the driver.
Then the driver took them through the city. It was an open and bright place with people drinking wine on balconies overlooking the street, who waved to them as they passed. If she weren’t terrified of being attacked, she would have loved to explore the city more. Their destination was in one of the richer neighborhoods, where the villas loomed. Their courtyards were filled with citrus trees and fragrant flowering vines.
Their host’s villa was surrounded by high walls, and Midnight Guards were posted at the entrance. A few commoners were lingering outside the gates, and at the sight of them, her chest clenched. But they passed them by without issue. Unlike her usual arrival at events, she was let out of the carriage at the back servants’ entrance.
The Avatheos arrived separately, in his private carriage, and when he stepped out, he offered his bent arm for her to take. They climbed the narrow servants’ staircase and entered an unfinished hallway. This was how the Avatheos seemed to materialize into rooms. The priestess in charge informed them that Luzie would wait in the servants’ passage until she was needed. For now, Liane and the Avatheos would take their seats and wait for guests to arrive.
The guards and Ludwig did a sweep of the perimeter before declaring it safe, and guests were allowed to enter.
There were two gilt chairs at the head of the room, somewhat akin to thrones. It felt wrong to sit there after what the Avatheos had said to her. She’d never try to usurp her mother, or Aristea, for that matter. Liane had seen the pressure being a ruler put on them both and had no desire to share their fate. Whatever the Avatheos’ vision might have been, there must be another way around it.
