CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The endless, infinite melody,

which makes concordant euphony

cannot be muted by a dampening blow.

Harmony must grow.

—THE HARMONY OF BEING

The rumbling of stone awakens you from a dream-filled slumber. You groan, reaching for the vision of the throne—your throne—sitting atop the steps of the Elsiran palace, a sea of heads both dark and ginger bowing down before you. The future.

However, in the present, a frigid awareness claws at you. A foreboding warning of danger. The deep groan sounds again, and the walls begin to shake.

In the distance, a violent boom rings out; dust and rubble fall from the ceiling. Is that cannon fire?

You rise and dress quickly in your stinking furs. The fireplace is cold, the room is icy, and, if you are not mistaken, this castle is currently under attack.

Explosions echo and what sounds like an avalanche roars as the ground beneath you thunders like the head of a pounding drum. You hurry into the hall to find it empty. No guards at your door—if this is an attack, then there are no men to spare. This is the chance you have been waiting for.

Though you carry no lantern, the orange glow of a fire burning outside the walls slips through the cracks in the stone and the holes in the ceiling. You make it to the precarious staircase leading up to where the Wailers are kept. It is likely unguarded as well, but their Earthsong will not overcome Nikora’s blood spell carved into your arm. You cannot harm her until it is gone and unless she releases it willingly, only her death will end the blasted thing.

You take the staircase to the lower level as great blasts assault what’s left of this decrepit fortress. You make it to the bottom just as another wall drops away. Dodging falling stone, you pause in an archway and catch sight of the fight. A small group of mages surround a rusted, antiquated cannon, though it appears to be firing on its own and must be some kind of amalgam.

Nikora’s Physicks have banded together, less than two dozen men and women retaliating with magical attacks against the newcomers’ offensive. You spot Cayro in their midst, hands up, gathering magic to himself. Then he turns on his own men and begins taking them down. Chaos ensues and a group of the raiders backs him up. Soon all of Nikora’s Physicks are down.

The newcomers are covered in dark furs, and one removes her hood revealing a young woman with a dark complexion. “Are there more?” she shouts over the roar of the wind, racing into the rubble. Voices carry across the echoing stone.

“No, Nikora sent her whole force here,” Cayro answers. “She’s trying to flee through the catacombs with Dahlia’s flesh.”

“Should we go after her?”

Cayro peers in the direction of the central hall toward a staircase leading down. “It’s a maze down there. I don’t want anyone else harmed, and she has neither her medallion nor a compass, so she can’t go far. Let’s set the explosives and bring this castle down. It will either flush her out or destroy her.”

You smile. Cayro has been plotting to remove Nikora all this time? Your estimation of the man climbs a notch—if he kills her, that will solve a number of problems for you.

“And Asenath, thank you for coming,” Cayro says, grabbing the girl’s arm. “And for trusting me with this mission.”

The one called Asenath nods. “You did well. But how close has she gotten? Did the wraiths tell her anything?”

Cayro snorts. “I doubt there is anything to tell.”

“Hmm.” She puts a finger to her lips and scans the area. You crouch down farther in your hiding spot. “And where is he? We cannot allow him to run free.”

“I’ve sent guards to retrieve him, as well as the prisoners. But he’s prohibited from causing harm by a blood spell.”

You wonder at Cayro’s offer of escape, would he truly have helped free you or was that just another deception? Regardless, his insurrection has been expedient.

You skirt the damage, careful and silent, keeping well away from the others, and head down to the catacombs to find Nikora. You need her dead, but you also need that jar if you are to retake Elsira with an army of wraiths. Finding her before Cayro’s people set their explosions is imperative.

The bowels of the castle are even colder than the upper levels. No torches are lit, but light from the cracks in the walls above filters down, muddy and dull. You can barely make out your own feet as they trip down the stone steps.

You stop on a landing and close your eyes, listening. All is quiet, whatever creatures call this place their home have likely burrowed away due to the noise of the attack. But just there—the padding of feet, shuffling quickly.

The passageways truly are maze-like, but the main halls are wide and laid out in a grid. So long as you recall how to get back to one, you feel certain you can get out of here again. Making it out before the blasts go off will be the challenge.

You hurry your steps, pausing every few paces to pick up the sound of scurrying feet. You’re getting closer.

Candlelight flickers ahead. You enter a chamber honeycombed with cubbies meant to hold bodies. Many are empty but some contain shrouded remains. This is where the maze intensifies into an arcane nest of passageways. You make a mental map of the turns you take, rushing to beat the invisible clock ticking away what could be the last moments of your life. But the risk is worth it.

The ground slopes downward and the next doorway leads to a natural cave barely illuminated by a winking glow. You step through to find Nikora standing in profile, the jar cradled to her chest in one arm, a candle burned down to a nub in the other hand. She stands a dozen paces away; just behind her the ground drops off. The sound of a stream trickles, but you can’t tell from your position just how far down it is.

The only exit to this cave is behind you, leading back to the catacombs. You spread your arms apart, affecting a harmless demeanor. “Please tell me you know a way out of here.”

She spins around, eyes dancing madly. “This is an attack. The rebels within the Physicks destroyed the Great Machine and now they would destroy Saint Dahlia’s ancestral home.” She spits out the words. A sheen of sweat coats her skin.

You approach slowly. “Will you not fight? Protect your people?”

She laughs, eyes wide and unstable. “This is the only thing that matters.” She squeezes the jar to her more tightly. “Dahlia’s flesh must be protected at all costs.”

“Let me help you protect the flesh,” you say, stepping closer.

“Stay back!” Her body begins to vibrate with madness or fear—you’re not sure and don’t care.

“We are allies,” you coo. “The flesh is just as important to me as it is to you.”

She backs closer to the ledge, her grasp on the jar never loosening. “You are a trickster. You think I do not know what you are, that I can’t see the truth in your cold, dead eyes. True Father.” She laughs. “True Deceiver is more like it.”

You take another step. She retreats to the very edge of the ledge. Now you see that the drop is significant. A glint from the stream shows it must be fifty paces down. Far enough to kill? The blood spell prevents you from harming her directly.

“Give me the jar. I will protect Dahlia’s flesh—I vow it.” You place a hand over your heart, gird yourself for the pain, and reach for the jar.

She does what you expect. Leaps away, dropping the candle to embrace the jar with both hands. Her feet slide right off the stone and there is a long moment where she struggles for footing. And then she falls.

A splash sounds when her body hits the stream, followed by silence.

The wound on your arm begins to knit itself.

You hope the jar has not broken. It will be incredibly disgusting to have to touch the flesh of the dead goddess with your bare hands. You will need to use some of Nikora’s clothing to bundle it up.

You kneel in the darkness and feel for the sharp stone corner of the ledge. Running the back of your hand across it opens up a gash. Blood wells on your skin. You swipe your index finger through it and touch it to your tongue.

The taste of copper and power fills you.

Your laughter echoes across the cavern even as explosions start to sound above.