He sighs. “Well, I do actually need something from you, little Priestess. I need you to not die.”
It’s my turn to arch an eyebrow at him. “Why do you care if I die or not?”
There’s a soft silence that grows louder by the second as we stare at each other. I can’t help but think about the way he looks, about the way his body, those crimson nails, and more than anything, his lips draw me to them. I can’t stop my heart from pounding or the throbbing between my legs at the thought of his touch.
This time, though, I don’t give in to the physical reactions. I maintain my clear-headedness and silence. He sighs again, but this time his smile is wider. “I need someone to win these trials who is amenable to a less miserable existence for everyone. I assume that a little Priestess like yourself would prefer we all stop killing each other for at least a little bit?”
Peace? Is that even possible? “Why me? I’m sure everyone in this building would prefer the war to stop. Doesn’t everyone prefer peace to eternal war? Who wants to risk their life every day for eighty years?”
He chuckles. “No, darling. Everyone in this building, other than you and my Aunt Ainslee’s people, is perfectly happy with the statusquo. War is peace for us. We fight and die on the battlefields, but as part of the Pact, everyone but the champions are brought back to life after each battle. Even the human foot soldiers have been given the tiniest bit of power to connect them to their gods. It’s a process called Returning. Everyone who was wrapped into the Pact has their souls shoved back into their broken bodies and healed. A month later, they’re back on Nyth and ready to fight again.”
His lips curl into a smile, and he leans back in his chair. “It wouldn’t serve to train anyone if, after they died, their gods would need new recruits. The only ones who permanently die are the ones who haven’t been imbued. Well, them and the dragons, since even gods have a hard time resurrecting dragons. No dragons have died, thankfully.”
I blink. No wonder they’ve never run out of soldiers. “Then why didn’t you all crush Sylvantia with your endless troops?”
His smile widens. “See, that’s where you come in. You,little Priestess, aren’t part of the Pact. When a human kills one of the Godforged, they stay dead. Even the gods are fallible, and they made a mistake not considering the Kingdom of Sylvantia in their Pact. Rhaskar Thorne surprised everyone.
“The gods’ armies could have crushed you a few years after the Pact, but too many lives were lost without the ability to Return them. Instead of having their souls shoved back into their bodies and healed, they were lost to the Void. We left you alone unless we needed something from you, which happens from time to time.”
Is that why we survived? Initially, I’d taken him at his word, but now I wonder if this is all just a lie to manipulate me. My father’s words echo through me.Don’t forget that you can’t trust any of them. The only time I ever trusted a Fae, she ruined this world. They will always put themselves and their agendas before anything else. Including you.
“So you want me to kill people in the trials?”
He shakes his head. “I want you to win. You weren’t part of the Pact. You do not belong to any of the kingdoms that agreed to eternal life. Even if you’re made Nyxthos’s champion, you were still born to the Kingdom of Sylvantia, a very important distinction. If you kill people as Nyxthos’s champion, they won’t come back. Instead of helping to train soldiers, you will eliminate them, and not even the gods want that.”
“Then why would Nyxthos accept me as his champion? Why not just kill me now?”
He crosses one leg over the other and seems to get a little more comfortable.Gods, he is beautiful.“Because he can’t. No god can interfere in their champion trials as part of the Pact, and whileyouweren’t part of the Pact, his trials certainly were. The gods may be incredibly powerful, but they don’t work together well. To force all of them to work toward their mutual benefit rather than their own, they created very strict rules as to what they are and aren’t allowed to do. They all made magical oaths that day, and if they were to break them, the godhood which resides within them and gives them the powers they have may decide to look for another host.”
“So he’s just going to let me win?” There’s no way something as powerful as a god can be forced into anything.
“He has to. He won’t tell the other gods what you are, so their decisions aren’t based on his influence. It’s a tricky game he has to play. He wants you to die, but he can’t, in any way, make that happen. He’ll know almost everything about you, including that you’re a Priestess. That doesn’t really change anything, though. As I said, no one wants to lose troops, especially after Saelira gave her prophecy. Your people and lands will be safe even if your secrets may not be.”
I frown. It’s just like my father said. I’m already giving up the secrets of the Order to the enemy. Hadn’t Azric told Ainslee the complete opposite?
“The only reason I’m here is because you told Ainslee that Nyxthos wouldn’t be able to see my secrets. If I’d known…”
Azric smirks and uncrosses his legs. He leans forward as if to tell me a secret. “How else was I supposed to bring someone outside of the Pact to these trials? Darling, you do realize that people can lie, don’t you?”
I stand up, anger washing through me. “Then why should I believe anything you’ve said? You expect me to trust you in the same conversation that you say you manipulated me into putting my life and my Order’s secrets on the line.”
He stares up at me, seemingly without a care, for several moments, and it only infuriates me more. Finally, he says, “Does it matter? I’m telling you that you can end the war. You can do what dear Papa Rhaskar couldn’t do.”
I don’t say anything as his words echo in the silence.I could end the war. “Maybe you’re lying about that, too.”
Azric shakes his head, the smirk never fading. “Little Priestess, why would I go to all this trouble?”
Azric continues, “It doesn’t matter, though. Believe me or don’t. Talk to my aunt and uncles if you need to. Nyxthosneedsa champion to fight for him, and if you win, he’ll be forced to accept you. And that will be the end of all of this stupidity. Your fellow humans will be safe-ish for the first time in eighty years, and I’ll finally have the chance to work with rather than against the other champions.”
He stands up abruptly and starts pacing. Instead of shadows coiling around him, his hands change into bony claws, and he clenches his fists. The tips of those claws cut into his palms, and a steady stream of blood runs from his fists to the black stone at his feet.
“This war is a game to them, little Priestess. You don’t see it because you’re not in it. They say that it’s a way to train their soldiers, and at one point, it might even have been. Not anymore. The true war is coming, and it’s time that we all start learning to work together. That’s why I need someone who can force them all to stop and actually think for a few moments.”
He turns to me. “You’re the only person who can do that. Even the gods will heed my words if you win. Then, we’ll all have a chance of surviving the real enemy.”
I stand up to face him. “If everything you’ve said is true, then I agree wholeheartedly. I doubt that very much, though. You havecaused more pain and suffering than any other person on Nyth save your mother. The fact you’d think I’m naïve enough to believe you’d want that to stop, Prince of Bones, is insulting.”
He smiles at me, and his hands return to normal, the wounds immediately healing, and he disappears only for me to feel his blood-red nails on my neck. His shadows wrap around my body, tightening into a vise again, just like that night in his room.
