But the knowing drums through my bones and doesn’t let up. Someone is there. I can feel it.
My breath catches. I close my eyes, letting the hum wrap around me, through me,beme. And then I know.
“Duskae,” I breathe.
The hum grows, answering in kind. Drum beats increasing in a loud, staccato rhythm.
“Grant me your power,” I command.
And she answers.
The hum erupts into a roar, my blood igniting like a river of molten fire. It surges through my limbs, through every thread of me, and I am no longer just Elyssara—I am something infinite. Somethingdivine.
Something that was waiting forthis.
I am a daughter of Duskae.
I am the spark she left in the world.
And she has answered my call.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KAEL
The homeof the Black Heart Belt mines rises on the horizon like a scar of the gods—a colossal mountain cleft split clean through the middle, as if the earth itself has been torn apart in some ancient fury. Sheer black cliffs loom on either side of the pass, their jagged faces jutting like the fangs of a buried beast. Once, this place was sacred. But now? It’s nothing but a scar. Some say the gods created it in a fit of rage during the Endless War.
Rowan was right—there is no missing this place. The shadowed path weaves through the cleft, abundant fissures catching the faint glow of the moon that now hangs overhead steal my gaze.
“It’s clear,” Therion confirms, his Aetherstride magic thick in the air. “At least up here.”
He stills again, his senses feeling the energy that travels on the black night like mist. “But below? That’s a different story.”
Fucking great.
“I feel it, too,” Seren murmurs, looking unnerved by whatever she can sense.
“Well, good luck,” Rubi groans, as she throws off her belt of tonics and tinctures, whips out her flask, and flops to a seaton the ground with an unceremonious thud. “I’ll be here if you make it out. Ronyn, fancy a swig of Tvira’s brask?” She wags her eyebrows, enticing him.
Ronyn looks torn, his face grimacing with the decision. “I can’t, Rubes. There’s a conversation I need to have with Death,” he points his thumb over his shoulder towards his bow and arrow.
“Yes, yes. The first god metal archer in the history of Aevryn,” she mocks dismissively.
“That’s the one,” he says with a click of his tongue and a wink.
“I don’t know how I know,” Seren interrupts, “but there are no living beings here.” She closes her eyes, focusing on whatever remains hidden or beyond sight. “Only… spirits. Noncorporeal beings of a sort. They seemrestless.”
“I’ve done this whole ghost thing before, you know? Just because they’re not human doesn’t stop them from being violent creatures. Lyssar Temple, remember? Yeah, not the biggest fan,” Ronyn says, a chill rippling through his body.
“That doesn’t sound like something the first god metal archer in the history of Aevryn would say,” Jax taunts, patting him on the shoulder condescendingly. She struts away with an exaggerated sway of her hips and throws a wink over her shoulder to Ronyn. Merrik pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
“Let’s find this godsdamned fissure and be done with it. El needs us,” Merrik grumbles.
I unsheathe my twin blades and drop into a predator’s crouch—I’ve been fucked by Shadowweave cloaks and lillath chains before and I’m not about to let it happen again, even with Therion and Seren confirming we’re clear.
Therion’s axe is already in his hand and Seren tucks in behind him. Ronyn, despite his theatrics, always has an arrowready to loose. Jax has her chakram gripped, and Merrik is nothing but predictable—broadsword at the ready. And Rubi? She’s already snoring, Daelen on watch next to her.
We move as a unit—attuned to the way we each move, our individual strengths and weaknesses, any signs that something isn’t right within each other. We move the way any military operation should—unified, sharp, attuned.
