The insignificance was startling and sat on my chest like a ton of stone. Yet, at the same time, I was given the opportunity to alter the course of the future. The magnitude of my presence and decisions was overwhelming.
The voices I’d heard since entering the Valley were louder here, more focused somehow. There was power in blood—even more so in the blood of an immortal being.
“Your sacrifice is accepted, Guardian of Knowledge. Use our visions well,”the anonymous voice spoke again, a gratefulness and urgency reflected in their tone.
I had little time to prepare, even less time to ponder their words, before the voices rose as one, enveloping me in the song of the Keepers. Memories and visions, histories and fables blended together too quickly for my mind to comprehend. I felt my brain expanding, thousands of years of history stored deep in the recesses of my consciousness.
I groaned at the sensation, falling to my knees once more with my eyes closed. Blood dripped from my nose and ears, even falling in rivulets from my eyes like tears.
But still, the knowledge came.
I screamed in agony, retching on the floor so bile joined my blood. My fingers clawed the side of my head, desperately trying to ease the ache.
No more, no more,I chanted. But the spirits either never heard or didn’t care. On it went until it felt like my flesh was rendered from bone.
All at once, the pain stopped, the throb in my chest and head easing as time seemed to freeze. I tentatively opened my eyes to a thick string of blue light. It glowed with an ethereal beauty and, if I squinted hard enough, I could see the individual fibers that twisted together.
It was beautiful—a melody of moments coalescing together as one to create a symphony of life.
The fibers vibrated, pulsating faster and faster until they sprang apart, each individual strand careening straight for my supplicated body.
I opened my mouth to scream as the first strand burrowed deep within my skin, seeking my soul. Fire erupted through my body at the contact that grew to an inferno as more strands wound around my soul.
Blessedly, my world went black, and I knew no more.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Ellowyn
It’d been over an hour since the hidden door closed behind Fay, leaving me alone in this haunted and desecrated place. The bone-chillingwrongnessdidn’t dissipate as I’d hoped; in fact, it’d only grown worse the longer we’d stayed in the Valley. My hands itched to Destroy and Create; they twitched at the possibility of absorbing the pain and suffering that hung in the air like a palpable, dense fog.
Make it new.
I closed my eyes, breathing deeply through my nose, in an effort to ward off the sensation. Unfortunately, ignoring the desires of my magic only made my skin crawl with a thousand ants. Exhaling and shaking my head in an attempt to clear the feeling, I sank to the ground with my back resting against the stone wall nearest the secret entrance Fay and I used.
While it was clear the Valley was nothing more than a graveyard, I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched. There wassomethingsentient here. Fay was so far engrossed in her own thoughts that I wasn’t sure if my warning when I first crossed the threshold into the Valley fully registered, but the wrongness was growing harder to ignore.
Keeping my back to the, hopefully, only usable entrance meant that I could allow my gaze to wander. Dust motes danced lazily in the air, stirred by fresh movement and my labored breathing. The walls groaned every so often as they settled, but I heard no other noise.
The lack of life here was disconcerting at best.
I picked at my cuticles, pulling dirt from beneath the tips of my fingernails, in a bid to distract myself from the disembodied gazes caressing my skin. It was as if the spirits of the dead lingered here, as if they couldn’t—or wouldn’t—move on into the ether.
It was easy to see how that could be the case. I shuddered slightly at the fresh memories of destruction above, of the unburied dead and the destroyed buildings. Of the complete annihilation of an entire people.
I’d forgiven Alois for his role in my own personal suffering, but seeing this? Finally understanding the atrocities he committed in the name of truth . . . it painted him in a way that had all of my personal transgressions illuminating in bright color, the memories fresh and alive.
“Thinking hard over there?” A deep voice penetrated my thoughts, and I instantly let out an unholy shriek. My body locked tight, my muscles preparing to fight or flee, as my Destruction Magic instantly curled in my hands, launching at the mysterious voice of its own volition.
A man as black as a void stepped from the darkness nearest the main staircase, and I watched in abject terror as the diaphanous strands of my power wove around him and absorbed into his skin like a lover’s caress.
His presence seemed to suck the very light from the room, and I watched as the sconces attached to the walls wavered and flickered as he strode confidently until the tips of his black boots met my own.
“Godling,” Kaos said, his greeting laced with humor, though there was an edge to his tone. The slight tenseness of his muscles and the hard press of his mouth indicated that this was more than just a leisurely visit.
“Kaos,” I intoned breathlessly as I worked to gain a handle on my emotions once again.
“That was an impressive bit of power. I wonder what it would have done if Destruction bowed to you and you alone?” he mused quietly.
