CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Papa.
—From Lyvia’s list.
Fires blazed on both ends of the large chamber. The king’s council room was crowded and filled with the scent of unwashed bodies and strong wine. I couldn’t peel my eyes from Olienna as she stood at the head of the table, draped in a mauve traveling dress, her long gray hair rippling over her shoulders as she told her story. Not only was she the most powerful mystic alive, Olienna was possibly the most powerful being in the Realm of Vael.
Enya had tried to tell me. Had tried to show me in those visions.Look.Watch, she seemed to say. The Bellator had barely aged a day. A Bellator here in Sultira, all along, under Saros’s nose the entire time. Trapped in the Lumerians and then caged in the dungeons of Mount Telum.
“So, the gods are coming for their powers. And Daimos has plotted their return in hopes they’ll share power with him?”Carina’s voice held a surprising edge of authority to it as she questioned the unseated queen of Nivis.
“When the first Bellators prepared to fight against the Embodied and their armies, Daimos saw his opportunity. As did Saros,” Olienna continued, her smooth voice carrying across the room in easy confidence. She stood at the head of the table, leaning forward and tenting her feminine hands over the maps. “The war waged for years until Lelyth destroyed the doorway they used to enter this world, shattering the land between Sultira and Lotrennia.”
“You were right,” Nerissa murmured under her breath. “Enya didn’t do it.”
Nerissa had stayed close in the hours that followed Olienna’s transformation, uneasy yet curious. Olienna nodded to her.
“Indeed. Lelyth had the power to move planets and other celestial objects, to break or create them. A dangerous power, but one that changed the fate of the War of Ruin. Despite what you may think, it was a warwonby the beings on Vael. We did not lose.”
“Couldn’t you just give the gods their powers back? And then they’d leave us alone?” Kresida asked, the dim light glowing softly against her dark skin.
“They are not gods,” Olienna said, her soft gray waves bouncing as she shook her head. “They are impostors. Beings that took this power ages ago, with the sole intent of finding and draining other worlds of it. The Bellators were only able to harness it with the help of the People of the Stars, and even then, only to defend our world.”
“The People of the Stars are a myth,” Carina cut in, adjusting her glasses as she leaned forward on the table. “A people with the ability to transfer power. To literally give and take it away. There’s been no evidence of their existence other than the mention of them in fairytales.”
Olienna’s brows pinched up as she gazed at Carina.
“Oh no, my dear Princess. They were very real. The Starlings are out there somewhere.”
Something stilled inside me as I listened, the air warming, as if some cooling breeze had vanished.
“Regardless of these people,” Astraeus cut in, stepping toward the ornately carved table, “What does this have to do with Daimos? What else is he planning?”
“I don’t know,” Olienna continued, “but whatever it is, we need to prepare the world for a second war. The second coming of the Embodied. Everyone suffers with their return.”
“A weapon, maybe?” Nerissa asked.
“Perhaps,” Olienna said.
Ronan spread a large map of the realm on the table, covering the smaller map of Sultira.
“Our powers,” she continued, turning toward me and Nerissa, “are but asliverof what the Embodied hold. And they wield it without conscience. They’re not beholden to the ideals of men and elves. Good and evil, it doesn’t exist in their minds. The essence of who they once were, whatever type of beings they came from, dissolved in the taking of their power. So, no, we cannot just give it back.”
Olienna turned once more to Kresida, whose dark brows narrowed in response. “The War of Ruin brought winged beasts of hell, demons of other worlds you could scarcely imagine…”
My mind drifted to the carvings in the amphitheater in Rhashtai. Fire and ash, fangs and claws. “We need armies. Armies with the powers of the Bellators.” Olienna strode around the room as she spoke, her dress swishing.
“And what are those powers?” I asked the question Drystan signed from the corner, doing my best not to stare at the space on his chest where the Advetis Bone sat hidden.
A cautious reluctance had grown in his eyes since the stone container had opened, presenting him with the Advetis Bone. His attempts at harnessing the power were continually unsuccessful.
“Eight powers were taken from the Embodied. Obscura, darkness and death, as demonstrated,” she said, motioning to me. “Along with the Transcindiel, which I am not sure how exactly ended up in your hands. Or rather, chose you. You’re unlike its previous bearer, Ordell.”
For whatever reason, her words hit like an insult. I squashed the flare of irritation.
“Soleia, split between the Ravindra twins.” Olienna waved a nonchalant hand toward Nerissa, who bristled. “My own, Palaega, is the power of the mind. As many of you know,” she murmured, grinning at Nerissa, “I can speak to whomever I’d like, mind-to-mind. And I have the ability to influence sleep.”
“The others, we must track down. I held onto the Celestyn Bone until Saros captured me. I left it with some friends so as not to let Saros get his hands on it. Celestyn was Lelyth’s power.”
