“You—”
“Iwillnot. You are my chosen heir, Milo. You are the one who will inherit my knowledge, my power, and in time, my seat on the Tribunal. I love Olympia, but she can be foolish and far too brash. Her grief will pass, as will yours, but she will never be as capable of understanding the true nature of this world as you do.”
I frowned but didn't argue further. This point had been made and remade between us so often even I was growing tired of the debate. We reached the western stairs to the Second Ring and I glanced back once at the tunnel before turning ahead again and joining the crowd of people making their way upward for the next shift. I leaned toward my grandmother and lowered my voice.
“The next Culling is only a few months away,” I muttered as quietly as I could.
“And let us pray it is fruitful,” she replied serenely. Arms still folded in her sleeves, she kept her gaze forward and walked with everyone else.
I sighed at the response, realizing I should've known better than to expect anything more with so many people around.
Most of the crowd peeled away at the top of the steps. They went off to attend their duties to the various minor houses of the Second Ring.Naschaand I kept our pace and strode toward the next flight of stairs up to the First Ring. These were nearly abandoned as those in the First Ring rarely stooped below for any reason at all. I supposed I should feel grateful thatNaschahad descended to the Third to join me, but all I truly felt was annoyance that my movements had become so predictable she'd known where I was without being told.
“The Culling,” I repeated again when we were alone on the steps toward the First Ring.
“It does not concern us, Milo,”Naschatold me. A hint of that pious serenity faded away to reveal a grandmother’s irritation with her insolent grandson.
“How can you say that? Olympia could be Culled. Or me. Or—”
“A wise man does not dwell on that which he cannot control, dear. The Culling will come and go, the Trials will begin again, and life will continue on regardless of what the gods decide. Worry will not determine the outcome. Fretting will notconvince the gods to spare you. Live on, keep breathing, and, for the love of the gods, continue in your task.”
She raised a brow as she turned to me.
“I haven't ceased,” I swore, stopping and turning to face her as well.
I was speaking the truth. I still spent every day in the library or her own study, searching for answers I wasn't certain I would ever find. I still sent requests to HouseHarlowethat went unanswered and continued my visits to House Lynx in an effort to win them over enough to gain access to their acquired knowledge as well. But my efforts had been for naught, thus far, and the task itself was so monumental as to become even more stressful than the Culling or the Trials or any of it. And more than that, I prided myself on not being an individual who was easily distracted. But after what I'd seen merely days ago in the streets before the tenth tunnel, I was finding it more and more difficult to find a moment’s respite from the images that swirled within my mind day and night.
White robes, dark uniforms, blood running through the cobblestones, the hems ofNascha’sbillowing sleeves dyed crimson. I suppressed a shudder and narrowed my gaze at my grandmother in the same moment I lowered my voice.
“You should have foughtCosmoharder,” I told her, accusation heavy in my tone once more.
Naschasighed and closed her eyes as though regaining her patience before addressing me again.
“Cosmois fighting for control of Sanctuary,” she informed me, turning on her heel and strolling off toward the front door of HouseAvus. She called back over her shoulder as she did. “We are fighting for something far greater.”
Chapter One
Dante
"He came through darkness. He came to light. He came with shadows. He came at night."
— From the Journal of Eximius, Former Patriarch of House Avus
Dark shadows writhed around my body, entangling my legs so I couldn't move, wrapping around my throat and pouring into my mouth so I couldn't scream. I was lost. Drifting through a deep, yawning abyss with no end and no beginning. Burning flesh, blind eyes, blood dripping from my fingertips.
I jolted upright, chest heaving as I blinked away the shadows. I shook the dark strands from my face and reached up, running a hand through them in an effort to push them back. I couldn’t remember the last time I got a haircut. Mother had been pushing for it. Grandfather had too. They both hated when I grew it out. But I'd resisted. It was the only bit of rebellion I could manage in that place.
In this place.
My eyes shot up to the banners draped across every inch of the wall. Emerald with golden trim, they boasted a solitary emblem;a snake wrapped around a dagger. It was the crest of House Viper, my House. I shifted and the bed groaned beneath me. Staring down at the rich silken sheets and the dark mahogany bed frame below, I stretched out my fingers and curled them closed, bunching up the fabric in my fist. This was my bed.
It all came back.
The Oath, the Trials, my grandfather’s scheming, my mother’s paranoia,Bria’sslowly fading smile, Olympia’s rage, the crowds, the cheering, the massacre, and Adrian.
Adrian, the beautiful girl with the bad attitude from the Third Ring. Adrian, who theGeisthad deemed my equal, whom I'd been bonded with. Adrian, who'd talked me trough Trial after Trial, stood by me when my grandfather went on the offensive, bore every horrid training my mother devised without complaint. Adrian, who'd befriended my favorite cousin and a scholarly First Ring outcast. The girl I'd given my heart to. The girl who'd warmed my bed and my soul. The girl who'd become more beloved in my world than I ever had. Partner, Betrothed, Friend.
And the girl who I'd shoved down a hole to certain death.
