“But Othrix created the veil.”
Surath laughs.
Xendus steps before me. “Wecreated the veil. The dragons did.”
I study another image of Othrix in the room, this one with more prominent wings. “Could manticores fly?”
Xendus shakes his head. “Legend says manticores could fly, thousands of years ago, but their wings became vestigial, ornamental.”
“They were among the weakest of all creatures in the Darkness,” Surath says dismissively. “It’s absurd that you people are worshiping an image of such a minor creature. One easily overpowered by virtually any other superi.”
“Creatures of Darkness.” A chill goes through me.
“We much prefer the term superi,” Surath says sharply.
My mind skims through everything I’ve ever heard about Creatures of Darkness, and fear invades, freezing my body and stalling my thoughts. What vile creatures is Rosomon facing in the Darkness? I drop into a chair and put my head in my hands.
“The boy is taking the news badly,” Xendus says.
“Imagine finding out your god is, in fact, not a god?” Surath says, her empathy surprising me.
I tamp down my fears for Rosomon—I can do nothing right now to protect her and must prioritize saving Saxon and discovering all that I can about how the world here has changed.
“I’ll get more information tomorrow.” I stand, trying to look confident. “Don’t leave this room without me,” I advise them. “Even I must tread carefully until we know whom we can trust.”
Surath frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not staying one night in this castle.”
CHAPTER 22
Rosomon
The space behind this waterfall is amazing and forms a tiny secret room. Light from the torches filters through the curtain of falling water, making the waterfall seem like it’s dancing.
Zogar is always stubborn, but I’m furious at how he ordered me to get out of the water like I was a child—or a servant.
He hurt my feelings when he abruptly left me to continue his gold gathering task. If his stiff rod was any indication, he was thinking about sex as much as I was. He pretends that he only needs sex to rebuild his powers, but I can tell how much he enjoys it.
The rock shelf behind the waterfall would be an exciting and intimate place for us to perform the marital act. Or perhaps we could do it in the water. Is that even possible? I’m excited to find out.
Perhaps I should give him some slack. He’s accustomed to getting his way, and it might take some time for him to adjust to treating me as his equal as he vowed.
I swim back through the waterfall, easily pushing through its down current and letting the water fall straight over my head. Zogar’s no longer on the shore, barking demands. In fact, I can’t see him at all, but ripples radiate from the edge. Hoping he’s swimming toward me, I dip my face under the water.
Zogar is thrashing, sinking like a stone.
Is he injured? Can’t he swim?
The thought of my strong husband lacking even one physical skill is incongruous, but I don’t have time to ask questions.
I race across the small pool, fill my lungs with air and dive down. Standing at the pool’s bottom, Zogar’s eyes are full of terror. He reaches for me, his arms clamoring to take hold. But if I let him trap me, we’ll both drown.
Staying just out of reach, I wave my arms to stay in place, trying to reassure him with my eyes. At least he’s close to the pool’s edge, and the rock cliff has lots of potential hold to assist in climbing.
Gliding past him, I grab some pieces of rock that jut out from the wall, then place my feet on others. He turns toward me, then toward the wall. One of his arms stops flailing long enough to grasp a rock. Hanging from one arm, he’s still caught up in utter panic.
Taking a risk, I reach out and touch his other hand, pressing my thumb against the thick pad of muscle at the base of his.Almost instantly, his movements quiet, but he’s losing his grip. It’s clearly a challenge for him to hang on.
Looking into his eyes, I nod reassuringly, as I raise his other hand to grasp a stone. Then, I glance toward his feet, hoping he’ll get the idea.
