Nodding, he selfishly allowed his hand to dust over her hip as he passed. When this was over, he wasn’t ruling Kava. He didn’tcare who bore the crown next, but it damn well wasn’t going to be him.
Upstairs, the entire temple’s worth of acolytes stood in a layered circle. Layer by layer, they began to chant until the resonance of their voices pitched through him in waves. In the center of the circle, Nia painted a skull and dice on the temple floor with her hands. Another priestess lit incense and wafted smoke until the air was saturated. Nia poured dark liquid over her painting and arranged food and gifts as the litany continued. The chanting increased until Nia held up her hand and at once their voices cut off.
“We call now on the god of the dead. King of the Deathlands, god that we serve, hear our petition and remember us.” Nia lit the paper she held in her hand and placed it on a plate to burn. Curling and blackening, the petition went up in seconds leaving only ashes behind. Wiping her fingers through the dust, she sprinkled it out over the floor, murmuring. “May your strength and wisdom prevail.”
The temple became uncomfortably quiet. Topp’s shoulders tensed as Rollie’s hot breath misted on his neck. There were too many people in here, incense was tickling his fucking nose, andwhywasn’t anything happening? He moved from foot to foot in agitation. Did these people even know what they were doing?
A man landed in the center of the skull, his smooth dark brown wings flaring wide. Ducking his head, he spoke softly yet his deep voice carried through the silent chamber. “Clear the temple. He’s coming.”
Instantly, as if they had drilled for this, the temple doors opened and everyone exited, fleeing down the temple steps. Hand on Nia’s wrist, the winged man’s eyes landed on Topp and Rollie. “Not you two.” He stood there, alert, and watchful, waiting until every last acolyte had poured out of the temple, and then he disappeared.
Rollie whispered from behind him. “Maybe I should call for Lucy. I don’t think we should be?—”
A soot-like haze cloaked the room so darkly he could not see. The pulse in his throat quickened, and his hand shot out to grab at Rollie. He was right, they needed to get out of here. The blinding shadows cleared just enough to make out the outline of a tall, imposing figure.
“Where is mywife?” The voice that licked out matched the haze. Dark and dangerous, this was a god he had a feeling would have no qualms with burning him alive.
Dropping Rollie’s wrist, Topp adjusted his stance, bracing for the worst, but the god of the dead was already striding past him, calling out over his suited shoulder. “You’re lucky she cares for you.” And then he was gone, down the stairs into the true heart of the temple where Elysia waited.
Taking a breath, Topp and Rollie looked at each other and followed him into the dark.
Chapter 46
The godof the dead’s cold fury was now painful. Face stricken, his bright blue eyes appeared to be made of flames as he stared down at Elysia. Unafraid, his hand slipped beneath her neck, thumb moving delicately over her skin as he stared at her shimmering form.
Turning to Nia, his intonation pitched low, and the walls trembled. “I’m going to find her now.” The priestess swayed but held upright, and Topp unconsciously stepped back realizing why all the acolytes had been sent out.
The god of the dead was not in control.
Entwining their fingers, golden strands Topp hadn’t noticed on her skin lined up with Aidan’s, and the god of the dead lowered his face to her ear, whispering something only for her. Standing upright, his eyes burned even brighter until every semblance of mortality melted, and the sootlike shadows rushed from his being to cloak the room in darkness save only for the flame of his eyes.
Both Topp and Rollie collapsed to the shuddering floor, but the shadows didn’t physically hurt them as they crawled over their skin. He didn’t know how much time passed, only that the shadows left him with goosebumps and plunged him into theunavoidable icy waters of life and death, forcing him to examine much.
The darkness cleared and with it his mind. The god of the dead appeared calmer now, his body deceptively relaxed. Yet Topp’s instincts tightened—whatever Aidan had found, he was even closer to the edge than before.
“I must retrieve something. Please wait with her,” the god of the dead requested with lethal politeness and then he was gone. All the air flooded back into the room, and Rollie collapsed again, his head smacking against his forearms as he groaned.
“I take back everything I ever said about wanting to work with the gods. That son of a bitch should stay wherever it is he came from,” he finished with a shiver.
Topp nodded silently, situating himself so he was seated with his back against the wall, but he could still survey the room. Nia stood at Elysia’s head like a sentry, waiting for her god to return. He tipped his head toward Rollie with his eyes still on her. “What do you think he’s getting?”
Rollie shook his head. “Didn’t seem confident, did he?”
He shrugged. Hard to say. His foot twitched back and forth as they waited, the minutes turning into an hour and then longer.
There was an ear-splitting crack and Aidan was back, holding a heavy iron crown. Setting it gently on the table, he spoke to no one in particular. “If you’d like to stay alive, don’t touch that. I must retrievehernow.”
Once again, the blue flames shot high in his eyes and his pale, hollowed face grew bright against the darkness swallowing the room, except this time the golden strands on both his and her hands became a beacon. The light from the strands danced in the darkness and despite his inability to see through the shadows, Topp registered the strain emanating from Aidan.
Something melodic and enchanting played around them as the god of the dead ceaselessly whispered into the dark. Topp cocked his ear, wishing to hear what was being said, but all he could catch were murmurs of what sounded like adoration andenticement. Aidan’s voice changed, suddenly stern, as a prismatic ball of light appeared, dancing around his head. The ball of light stopped, quivering in front of the god of the dead’s face.
Tilting his head, Aidan's voice became droll. “Thorn, now isn’t the time. Focus, sweetheart.” His ghostly hands cupped the orb as if it were everything, guiding it over Elysia’s chest. The blinding orb dropped into her without hesitation, plunging through skin and bone. She had shimmered before, but now she glowed.
Topp leaned forward. Was she waking?
A scream tore from Elysia’s parted lips and slammed him back against the wall with its force, but Aidan didn’t hesitate. Swiftly he took the crown and nestled it against her hair, holding it to her. Her scream became guttural and then silent, her mouth still gaping and eyes iridescent, and for the first time, Aidan’s face stuttered in worry, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the crown to her dark locks like it could save her.
Slowly, the shimmer over her skin dissipated, her eyes returning to their familiar liquid brown, but she didn’t stir except for the slight hesitant rise and fall of her chest.
