Unir’s indomitable will was apparent in every word he spoke. There was no doubt that Samkiel and his brothers were this god’s sons.
“I must ask you, god king,” the dark man started. “Is this treaty not a way to control me and the rest of my people?”
“I would never suggest such,” Unir assured.
The dark man smiled but shot daggers at the gods across from him. I felt the chill as that glare passed through me. “You all buy into the high praise heaped upon you. Your arrogance makes you unable to see that not every powerful force is your enemy. You cloak yourselves in a proud sense of justice, portraying yourselves as protectors and saviors. What happens when one of you falls into betrayal? Who will sign peace treaties then? You can only hold your nose in the air for so long before one of you slips up, and that silver is finally tarnished.”
Unir did not flinch. He only smiled back unblinkingly and said, “Our people survived eons before yours arrived and will continue to do so long after yours are gone. Your father brought war, Nydmjir, and now we have ended it. This meeting is just to ensure that the ones who fled do not return to our lands.”
Nydmjir. That was his name. Recollection hit, and I gasped, my breath sucked in so harshly my lungs hurt. I remembered that name. On Onuna, Reggie and I researched the history of the Ig’Morruthens and the realms. He was the son of the fallen primordial, King Ormjir, who started the War of Wars. Ormjir created and controlled the Ig’Morruthens. The first beast he made became his general.
“Regardless of our arrival and what has transpired, may the eternal peace bless their souls. Even with the gods you have now, all your combined power will not scare the Sovereigns.” Nydmjir counseled.
Sovereigns? My mind reeled. I hadn’t heard of them and didn’t understand everything they were discussing, but I knew one thing. That medallion she had me make was about more than just giving her more power. If she got her hands on it, could she leave this realm, too? Was that her true goal? What did I mend?
Mouths moved, only no words came out that I could hear. I reached into my pocket and plucked the medallion from it. My hand warmed beneath its weight, and I stared at it. The brilliant green swirl of my power in the center mixed with something ancient and primal, and it glared back.
The medallion yawned open, and my hair slapped my face as the room spun. Darkness fell, and the room grew cold. I looked up and gasped as the fabric of reality tore and more dark-eyed beings spilled in. War broke out between the gods and what I now knew were the Primordials. Blood spilled, worlds shook, and Ig’Morruthens were born. Screaming and death coated the room, my skin, and my very soul.
The tear made my skin crawl and my stomach turn. My body was yanked toward it as if the medallion wished to show me where it came from. Our realm was not just a stopping point for the Primordials. It was an escape, a refuge where they could hide from what sat behind this realm, what watched and waited. I saw skin of the softest blue, the harshest red, and pale tan. There were antlers and what looked like branches nestled as a crown on another. Four great beings in four great chairs ruled over four realms.
Fear, heavy and thick, wove through my very being, the primitive part of my brain shuddering with the instinctual knowledge of a predatory threat. My lungs closed, and my breath was stolen with the force with which it hit me. Panic flared in my heart, the beat erratic and wild. She would doom us all for it if she got this. The power I felt coming through that tear was pure and undiluted energy. It was stronger than I’d ever felt, stronger than Samkiel or Dianna.
I was yanked back to the present of my dream, my head snapping back with the force. The witch from the hall stood in front of me.
“Do you see what you made?” she asked. Her eyes stared into me, not at me, but beyond. I could feel her in my mind, her voice like nails raking across my skin. I took a step back, but she followed. My hand clutched the medallion so hard I feared it would crack my palm wide open. “That is their way in, and they will bleed into this realm if you let them.”
“I-I didn’t … I didn’t know.” But I had. Nismera had been adamant and willing to do almost anything to have it rebuilt. I had known that it would likely be a tool capable of catastrophic damage, yet I mended it.
“You have to destroy it,” she insisted. “Destroy it, or it will destroy all.”
“I don’t know how,” I said almost desperately.
She grabbed my wrists painfully tight. The witch’s eyes burned brighter, and my skin heated beneath her touch. I looked down and saw her palms glowing. I tried to pull away, to jerk back, but she was too strong, too powerful.
“You’re hurting me!” I cried out, yet she held on.
The witch tightened her hold as her touch began to burn. Power emanated from her, twisting her features. Her short hair floated around her head, and her feet left the floor. As she rose, her grip on my arm pulled me with her. More magic spilled into me, the medallion I held between us sizzling. I wanted to drop it, to let go before it melted into my palm, but I couldn’t move or even scream. All I saw, all I felt, was her.
Wet hair whipped around sea foam eyes. Vincent gripped me, but I couldn’t look away from the destruction happening behind him. My magic flared bright and wide, the green tendrils reaching as they held us suspended in the air, just like my dream. Only I was awake, and the ship and everything around me was caught within my magic perimeter.
Vincent held my hands, floating with me as if he had grabbed me the second I started to levitate and refused to let go. Rocks and dust-speckled plasma spiraled upward around us. We floated above the ship, Vincent’s hold keeping me stable. The crew screamed, flailing all around us, colliding with items from the deck.
A flaming disc slowly floated toward us. It vibrated with so much power you could almost see the tremors of the metal. The edges of the medallion were a deep orange, and I could see the moisture in the air around it, popping and steaming, but I still reached for it. The cooling mix of stone, metal, and magic landed in my palm, and I hissed from the heat still emanating from it. We floated back to the deck of the ship, everyone scrambling as they found their footing again.
As the crew recovered, they formed a wide circle around Vincent and me. There was no coming back from this. It was too late. Our disguises had burned away, revealing our truth. We ignored the whispers and commotion, focusing on the medallion I held between us. Moisture ran from my eyes and nose as I sobbed, terrified by what I had seen.
Vincent shook me as I cried. “What happened?” Vincent asked, his voice edged with anger and fear. “Tell me what happened?”
“I made a mistake.” I sobbed, truly understanding now what I had set in motion. “Vincent, I made a mistake.”
Vincent wrapped me tightly in his arms, his hands running soothingly over my back. The medallion between us burned, and I knew the world would do the same.
7
ISAIAH
Blood loss at this level could cause hallucinations. I knew that because I saw her every time I opened my eyes. Her form was lithe and covered in dark battle garbs. The hilts of twin swords were visible above her shoulders. Her blonde hair was braided and glinted like captured sunlight. She looked back at me, her eyes a deep ocean blue that seemed to see into my soul. The wordbeautifulwasn’t worthy of her.
