“No, no. I’m sorry,” he said.
The thought of never seeing my friend again tore something deep inside me, but if he was going to judge me for loving Vexxion, let alone for my parentage, then he wasn’t a true friend to me any longer.
Funny how the thought of losing him would’ve gutted me this morning. But something was hardening inside me. Perhapsit was past time. When it came down to it, I had two things to do.
Bring Vexxion back.
Kill the king.
I hated to think I might have to sacrifice Bro’s friendship to do it.
8
VEXXION
While I lay on the slab of a stone path, recovering my breath, the beast slithered back into the wasteland.
“Giving up so soon?” I croaked.
No, it was waiting. It knew I wouldn’t—couldn’t—remain in this sanctuary for long. My only hope for a future remained beyond the wall far off in the distance.
I rose to my feet and turned my back on it, striding forward, my feet slipping on the smooth sand, whispering secrets I couldn’t quite make out. Dilapidated marble pillars loomed on either side of me, cast in burnished silver, ghostly remnants of a past long forgotten. Tufted bits of material networked across the gap like lovers’ limbs stretching out to touch, all while knowing they’d never be able to reach.
Rough-hewn, darker gray slabs, now cracked and weatheredby endless wind, had been laid in a path leading to the building beyond the pillars.
Through a half-intact stone archway, I walked into a large open room, only the whisper of my feet and the crunch of sand underfoot breaking the oppressive silence. Fragments of the bloody sky stabbed through cracks in the rocky ceiling, making the sand glow.
My gaze wandered across walls painted with faded frescoes showing mythical battles, kings and queens, and ancient rites, the colors muted from time.
Wind tore through the room, making the sand skitter across broken tiles surrounding an altar on the far side—a big crumbling block bearing etchings in a language I couldn’t make out.
The air hung heavy with secrets, and my breath tasted sour.
I walked toward the altar, taking in the cracked mosaic floor made up of indecipherable swirling patterns.
“Why did I come here?” I asked, my voice ricochetting around me.
In the distance, the sand creature roared. It waited, as did my long walk across its harsh territory.
I stepped up onto the platform and stopped in front of the long, casket-like altar carved from stone blacker than obsidian. Why had this place called me here when I could’ve been trying to find my way past the wall?
A mistake,something hissed, the low, guttural whisper scraping across my mind.Go back. Go back. Go backkkkk . . .
I was here. I would see.
Sweeping out my arm, I scattered the sand coating the top of the altar, revealing words etched into the surface. I leanedclose, hoping that would make them easier to read in the red-gory light filtering in from above.
“Soft voices hint at secrets cloaked,” I read.
What voices? I closed my eyes, listening . . . But only a low pulsation reached my ears, carrying with it words in a whisper too soft to make out.
With a shake of my head, I traced my finger along the next line.
“To bow to fear or brave the unknown.”
I didn’t know what that meant either.
I should be beating on the wall, not wandering around in the desert. Whatever waited in the sand would try to kill me again as I made my way across. It would suck me down into its sandy embrace, and that would be my end.
