There’s a pressure around me, like being thrown into water, except that the longer I’m here, the deeper I’m pulled down. Even after only seconds, it’s like the darkness is going to force its way inside me. “What’s happening?” I scream into nothing.
“The Void is trying to fill you up, to make you a part of it, to leave you as nothing but your soul, to strip you of your body and feed it to the little ones who live here.” Suddenly, the pressure is gone, and instead of being terrified of being crushed, I feel light, as if I’m floating in a sea without the need to breathe. “I told you that our true enemy is coming across the Void to Nyth.”
I feel Azric’s nails over my cheek, but this time, the sensation is stronger, as if his nails were digging deeper, coming closer to whatever lies under the skin. There’s no pain, but it’s as though, for a moment, we share a single space. Then it’s gone just as quickly.
Memories of his kiss pull at me, but I’ve spent the last day trying to put up my own mental walls to those particular feelings. I will not let him control me like that. I’d been willing to die just for a kiss. He is the enemy. Still. I may want his help, but I won’t let him use my body against me.
He pulls me out of the Void and onto the dragon roost we were on yesterday. I gasp in a breath as though I’d been holding it the entire time I’d been in the Void. Azric is standing beside me, his hand on my arm. He glides away from me to look out at the land beyond the castle walls. “Come here, Fiona,” he says.
His tone feels like a command, and I want to balk at it. The way he’d stolen my cloak and my Infusions yesterday without giving me a choice makes me follow him to the edge, though. I don’t need to give him a reason to punish me again.
I look at a part of Nyth I’ve never really seen before. Dunloch is a land of darkness. The sun rises and sets, but it’s never as bright as it is in Sylvantia. Constant cloud cover and regular bouts of fog keep the world feeling more hidden than it would elsewhere. Unlike Averna, which is gray, Dunloch is full of rich color. Life flourishes here, even more than in Sylvantia, but the colors are deep purples and royal blues rather than greens and yellows. A massive lake, the size of some of the smaller kingdoms, lies in the center of itsterritory. From our vantage point, I can see dozens of settlements, all of which are tiny.
The landscape is full of forests, though none of the trees rise very high in the air. The lack of direct sunlight is probably part of the reason for it. Around the lake, duskthorn trees dominate the landscape, creating a wall of thorns that keep all but the most industrious people from getting to the water.
“This place has become Nyxthos’s domain on Nyth. His power flows through everything. Duskthorn trees did not exist here until he claimed this territory. If the Hunters come, everything in this territory will die. The wolves, the birds, the humans, and even the trees. They’re all tainted with the power of Darkness. They could survive if Nyxthos was killed, and I understand why humans would prefer all the gods to die. But Fiona, the Hunters aren’t coming to kill Nyxthos or any of the gods. They’re coming to eliminate anything touched by magic.”
I turn to him. “Why? Why do they want to destroy all magic?”
He shrugs. “No one knows. The dragons didn’t get a chance to ask while the Hunters murdered their babies and crushed unhatched eggs. They are cruel and terrible, and they will destroy Nyth.”
“Sylvantia is untouched by magic,” I say softly, knowing it’s not a good enough reason not to fight against an enemy that would destroy literally everything else outside of Sylvantia.
“But you aren’t. Your fellow Priests aren’t. They will kill all of you as well.”
I frown. “I’m not Godforged or Fae. I’m human. I’m…”
His sneer is louder than his words. “Oh, so the red phoenix etched into your left tit isn’t magical? What about the golden spear just under your collarbone?”
He knows about my Marks. My mind is doing backflips as he turns to me. “Fiona, I know all about the Order of Priests. I have watched yourfatherfrom the Void. I have a very clear idea about what you can and can’t do. I know about your little potions. I know that’s why you always wear that filthy cloak. I’m telling you that the Hunters will kill every single one of your Order. They may leave the peasants in Sylvantia to lead whatever kind of life is possible after they’re done. Or maybe they won’t. Who am I to know what the Hunters do with humans?”
He turns back to look at the horizon as the sun draws closer to the divide between land and sky. “You and yours have fought to protect the people. You’ve fought to keep the gods from taking everything that you hold dear. That’s what I’m doing as well. Except that the Hunters are so much worse than the gods. The dragons couldn’t protect themselves. They devour magic, so how many Godforged will be capable of doing anything? From what I’ve heard, their numbers are endless.
“That’s all we know. Just like you only know you’ll have to do some fighting in the next trial. How does it feel going into battle with a group of people you barely know, whom you’ve never worked with? You don’t know what in the thirteen hells you’ll come up against. How would it feel going into that same battle tomorrow, except that the stakes aren’t just your life? Instead, allof Nyth depends on your success. That’s what’s going to happen if someone doesn’t stop this idiotic war game we’re all in.”
The thought is terrifying. “You know all the other champions. You’ve fought them. You’ve…”
“I have destroyed my enemies, Fiona. But I have never learned to work with any of them. They don’t understand or trust me. Why would they listen to me? How can we possibly stand against an enemy set to crush our entire world without learning to work together?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Look, I already said I would do my best to win these trials. If that’s all you need from me right now, then I’m yours to teach.”
He sighs. “That will have to do since I don’t have any more time to convince you.” At that moment, a flurry of wings pulls my attention away from him. I whirl around and see all five dragons landing on the other end of the roost. I’ve already met Inni and Vyran, but they’re not the only ones here. Kasan the Lifegiver, the dragon who built Draenyth and all the Fae Keeps. Sidon the Strong, the largest dragon that Rhion and Ainslee ride. And Calyr the Gold, a dragon who can interpret the future based on current decisions. The dragon who woke the gods.
None of them say anything as I stare. Together, they represent the most destructive forces on Nyth, save for the gods. Scars cover them, marring the glow within their scales. Each of them has lived thousands of years and, if Azric is to be trusted, has seen a multitude of worlds. They longed to give Nyth peace, and the High Faeruined it. Now, each of them has chosen sides in the world war that has altered Nyth in such terrible ways.
I should be terrified of them, but I find I’m not. Yesterday, when I met Inni and Vyran for the first time, they’d shocked me, but I’ve had time to think. Everyone that I’ve met so far in Castle Lachlan has been someone responsible for atrocities, but unlike the rest of them, the dragons existed here long before those atrocities occurred. They made a choice between two evils, and at least Sidon has done his best to save innocents. He hasn’t turned against his kin even though they’re on opposite sides in this war. There must be a reason for it. Maybe Azric isn’t wrong. Maybe I’ve been misled about the genuine threat to Nyth and humanity.
“Let’s see what you can do,” Azric says. I turn back toward him as he raises his hand. Shadows rise in front of him, becoming a demon. Just like the stories I’ve heard. It’s the size of a large boar, coming up to my chest. Unlike dogs and wolves, it’s rounder through the middle, giving it what looks like a significant amount of weight.
If it were just an animal, I wouldn’t be worried. With the right Infusions, I can handle myself against any beast, but this is no beast. This is something without substance, without a heart or brain to destroy and end it. Another key piece of knowledge is that it’s not built to survive. Instead, it’s built to kill, to rend and tear, and to terrorize, and survival is only a bonus.
Its face is terrible. Like a human with a jaw that extends too long, its teeth are three times as large as they should be. Its eyes arehollow, yet it sees. There’s no nose, yet it can find even those that are hidden.
Its legs end in paws like a wolf’s, yet unlike a wolf, it’s not built to run. At the end of each of its long toes, there’s a claw like a cat. Shadows make up the demon, and in the twilight, it’s difficult to see. It lets out a loud roar, and the world seems darker, as if torches and candles throughout the castle have gone out.
“Shadow demons are the most commonly used tactic of Nyxthos’s Mages, but remember that they have some access to other powers, including the use of shadows. None of them are nearly as competent as I am, and very few of them can shadow walk, but those powers shouldn’t be completely forgotten.”
He continues, “You won’t use any of your powers. You were trained to fight demons with flames, but you can’t do that in the third trial. If you do, there is nothing I can do to keep you safe. Once anyone else finds out about your place within the Pact, you’ll be killed.”
