Текст книги "Throne of the Fallen"

Автор книги: Kerri Maniscalcol

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

FIFTY-SEVEN

CAMILLA GLANCED AROUND the underground chamber, her pulse pounding a frantic beat. She’d raced here the second Abyssus’s ward had disappeared but was still too late.

Envy was severely injured. He should have started healing, and she wasn’t sure why he hadn’t but suspected it had to do with his dwindling power.

He hadn’t admitted so out loud, but she’d seen his court. Knew things were grim. And he would ruin himself to save his demons. Was ruining himself.

“How can I break these chains?” she asked, gently pressing a hand to his forehead.

His skin was cold, clammy. She suddenly wanted to drag him into her arms and away from this place.

“We need to hurry,” she said. “Please. Help me.”

His eyes fluttered but didn’t open.

Vexley must haven been torturing him for however long she’d been trapped in the abyss. And even someone immortal couldn’t withstand days or weeks of being beaten without healing. The magical chains were a nasty trick, ones she suspected were Abyssus’s doing. The constant pulse of pain seeping through them into Envy’s skin was clearly wearing him down.

How Lord Vexley had gotten involved she neither knew nor cared—she’d thought it was just a vision when she’d seen him attack Envy in Abyssus’s tunnel. But he must have really been here, in this place, beating the prince. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but Camilla had waited in the shadows until Vexley had been overcome by blood lust, needing him to be distracted. Then she’d struck hard and fast.

Camilla squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the image of beheading Vexley from her mind.

She hadn’t known she could do something like that until a savage, wild rage had descended when she saw how hurt Envy was. Something dark had awakened in her, the threat Vexley posed igniting her long-dormant instincts. He was trying to take what was hers.

And she’d snapped.

Camilla had used the dagger Blade had gifted her, crafted of sharp, immortal steel, but it had been her strength, her inner power, the Fae part of her locked deep inside, that had emerged.

Ruthless, feral.

She’d struck at the connective tissue in Vexley’s neck, sawing through the tiny bones of his spine in one, brutal, ragged slash. If time hadn’t been running against them, Camilla would have fallen upon Vexley’s undead corpse, tearing him apart, bit by bit.

She’d caught Vexley by surprise, getting lucky.

Camilla needed to focus, remain calm, plot how to get them out of this predicament immediately. She darted a look at the entrance several yards away on the other side of the ancient site. She hadn’t spared more than a cursory glance at the Twin Pillars.

She’d spotted Vexley and Envy and had circled them, gaze split between the floor and the vampire, doing her best not to make a sound as she slowly approached.

Vexley’s headless corpse was gruesome.

And, most unfortunately, in the way.

She grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him off to the side, the procession slow and painful, his weight and size ensuring that she worked hard to rid herself of him.

Once he was far enough away, she squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed his head, holding it gingerly by the hair, trying not to gag as she deposited it next to his unmoving form.

That dark deed done, she rushed to Envy again.

Camilla rattled the chains once more, the magic burning her skin. She wasn’t sure how Envy had survived so long with them wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The pain was overwhelming in her brief contact with them.

She braced herself and picked up the length of chain again, turning it over in her hands, attention searching. There had to be some way to break them. A clue. A riddle.

Camilla thought of the game master, of what twisted way he’d devise for them to be unlocked. Then she saw it, faintly etched onto the links. A riddle.

She looked closer, spying a series of letters that could be moved around the lock to form an answer. The space made it clear she was looking for one word. Five letters.

For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,

this begins but has no end

and ends all that begins.

Answer me correctly at the start, or after three tries I’ll permanently stop his heart.

She expelled a long breath, staring at the last warning. She had three chances to answer the riddle correctly, or somehow Envy would die.

She covered her face, fighting the urge to scream. Pressure built behind her eyes, in her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs as she tried to puzzle out the riddle without thinking about the clock ticking. Without worrying about a wrong guess.

“For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,” she said aloud, hoping it would spark some connection. “Stems, limbs, teeth…”

She swore roundly. Nothing made sense for all of them.

Perhaps if it hadn’t felt as if a dagger were being held to her throat, she’d have been calm enough to think. Why couldn’t this be a riddle based on art? On something she knew without question?

“Breath, souls, heart…” Could plants have hearts? Camilla had never really paid much attention but knew there were plants that had heart in the name. Bleeding hearts. It was certainly morbid and threatening enough, but was it correct? The riddle didn’t say all plants, just some. Mortals and all animals had hearts.

For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,

this begins but has no end

and ends all that begins.

It didn’t fully connect with the second part of the riddle, though. But maybe it did, and she just couldn’t see that part clearly now.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the chain again.

“Please be correct.”

Camilla had three chances. If this failed, she still had two more tries.

She rolled the first letter into place.

H

Then the second.

E

The third.

A

Fourth.

R

And hesitated on the fifth. She read over the riddle again, this time with growing suspicion. It didn’t mention any consequence for a wrong response, but she didn’t trust the game master.

For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,

this begins but has no end

and ends all that begins.

Envy’s chest barely rose, his breathing labored. Even if they didn’t have to hurry to solve the next clue after this, they were running out of time.

Camilla sent up a quick prayer to whomever might be listening and twisted that final letter into place.

T

Envy’s body jolted as if struck by lightning, a howl of pain tearing free, echoing through the chamber, a symphony of agony. The magical chains flared with a light so brightly intense, Camilla had to blink several times before the little spots disappeared.

“Envy!” She went to pull the chains away from his skin, then screeched. The chains pulsed with power now, ratcheting up in intensity. “Shit.”

He slumped back to the ground, groaning. He was still unconscious. The chains radiated a menacing buzz now, indicating that each wrong response would intensify the magic running through them until it grew so powerful it could end an immortal life.

Camilla jumped to her feet, pacing. She could not get the next one wrong.

For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,

this begins but has no end

and ends all that begins.

What? What connected them all? It had to be simple.

Camilla felt tears threatening. She was frustrated and scared and downright furious with the game master. His game was bad enough without subjecting them to mental and physical torture. She stopped pacing, using her surging emotions to center herself.

The game master knew they were close to finishing the game. Which meant she’d see him soon. Camilla focused on that, allowed it to fuel her. She and Envy had not come this far to be thwarted by the Unseelie King in the final moments of their game.

When she walked into that wretched court, not if, she would do so as a victor.

Starting with this cursed riddle.

Camilla repeated it out loud, determination running through her in waves. The game master thought himself clever, but she was too. She knew the answer. Knew it was simple. Fear had shut down her logic, but she would not allow it to overtake her now.

For some plants, mortals, and all animals, too,

this begins but has no end

and ends all that begins.

Some plants. Mortals. And all animals, too. Think, she commanded herself. What do they have in common? The careful phrasing. Some plants. All animals. And simply mortals.

They were all living things. But that didn’t connect them. Some plants. Camilla paced away, her thoughts focused inward. Some plants… all plants were alive. But some plants…

“All right,” she said. “If I were in House Sloth, plants would be broken down into categories. Flowering, fruits, trees, bushes… and annuals and perennials.”

Her pulse thrashed. That felt right. Some plants were annuals; they needed to be replanted each year. Some plants were perennials. They came back each year on their own.

Suddenly, she knew what the answer was.

Chills raced down Camilla’s body.

“Death.”

Some plants died. Mortals and all animals died too. Death ended all that began. And once it began, there was no undoing it. Death also had five letters. It fit.

It had to be the correct answer.

Still, as she knelt next to Envy, seeing the sickly pallor of his normally healthy, bronze skin, she hesitated. One more wrong answer and she didn’t want to consider the torture he’d experience. At her own hand.

She couldn’t waste any more time debating.

Camilla hissed through her teeth as she clasped the chain again, finding the link with the letters. She twisted them into place quickly this time, pausing for only a beat on the final letter.

DEATH

She hoped she wasn’t dooming Envy to his. The H clicked into place and an eternity passed in a second; then the glow intensified, and Camilla internally damned—

The chains shattered in a flash of fire, freeing the prince.

Camilla sobbed and then gently pulled him onto her lap, stroking his head.

“Please. Please get up.”

She had read enough fairy tales as a young girl to know that the prince was supposed to wake the love of his life with a kiss. But Envy was a demon, and Camilla was no damsel in distress. She pressed her lips to his forehead.

He didn’t magically stir. But his skin was starting to regain some color now that the chains weren’t constantly attacking him.

Camilla rocked him gently for a few more seconds, still painfully aware of the clock Abyssus said was counting down their time to solve the final clue. They were so close. They were in the site. If they lost, her talent would be stolen forever.

She could leave Envy, find the next clue on her own…

Awareness suddenly prickled against her skin. She glanced down, startled to find Envy’s emerald gaze locked onto her.

“Did we lose?” he asked, his tone void of emotion.

“Not yet.”

“You could have left me.”

She could have. There was a question in his eyes. One she did not have an answer for.

Camilla carefully maneuvered him off her lap and stood, brushing down the front of her dress, then glanced around. “Abyssus said we have until sunset to solve the last clue. We’re almost out of time.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

ENVY TOOK QUICK stock of his injuries as he sat up. On the surface, he didn’t appear too bad. But looks could be deceiving. The worst of his aches and pains were still there.

He pushed himself up to his feet, head pounding from the strain.

Camilla, thankfully, had already turned her attention to the Pillars. The fear he’d seen in her, the tenderness, both were gone, replaced by a brutal determination. If he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t experienced that hellish torture, she’d have given no outward indication that they’d battled a dark force. He wanted to ask about Abyssus, if she was all right, but she clearly was.

She was a woman on a mission. And he was glad of her help.

Unable to move just yet, Envy watched Camilla take in the pillars, a look of awe and reverence on her face.

He understood her fascination. Even in a world full of magic and riches, they were truly something to behold.

The pillars stood twenty-two feet tall and were each carved from a solid piece of shadowstone, a gemstone found only in the Seven Circles that was like a smoky moonstone. Each massive column was adorned with images ranging from flora to fauna to astrological.

Many had speculated on what the symbols meant, but no one could be certain that their theory was correct. Only the oldest of the Fae knew what the Pillars had fully been capable of.

She was looking at them with appreciation, but he also saw the way she methodically scanned them, running her hands over each image, her mind hard at work to solve the mystery of why they’d been sent there and how it related to the game.

He looked them over from where he stood, slowly regaining his strength.

In the mortal world, there were a few ancient sites that were similar, but nothing compared to these pillars. Some believed supernatural beings had created the ones across the mortal world, but if they saw what had been made by the Fae, they’d understand the differences.

These columns glowed with an inner moonlight, the art casting shadows. And that was while they were buried below ground, far from the sun and moon, which legend claimed they’d been created to celebrate.

Envy had seen the Pillars once before: when Wrath had each of the seven ruling Princes of Hell come together to nullify the Fae magic, in a sense leashing the Pillars.

What they knew of the Twin Pillars was that they were an access point, like a mortal train station of sorts, where both the light and dark Fae could travel to different realms.

When the portal was open, they could go to the mortal world whenever they pleased, bypassing the Gates of Hell and any royal request they’d need to make.

That had been their ultimate downfall.

The Unseelie liked playing with mortals. Liked taking human pets. Changelings were also amusements. They left Fae children in human homes, watching them wreak havoc on the unsuspecting parents.

Both courts had been warned that such games were not to be played in the mortal world. The Seelie took their pleasures elsewhere, never as intrigued by humans as the Unseelie were.

Lennox and Prim Róis weren’t as easily tamed. Since they were embodiments of Chaos and Discord, it wasn’t unexpected. Until the portal was sealed, they continued to freely send their court to meddle. Wrath had issued two warnings. The first a courtesy, the second a royal decree.

Lennox had sent even more of his court to spite the king of the Underworld.

The Pillars were buried below the earth and bound shortly after.

Now, as they stood in the ancient place, once teeming with magic, an odd sense of muted power thrummed from the inert columns.

Envy had never felt that before, wondered if the game was responsible. He made his way to them, the ache in his body dulling considerably.

Camilla walked to them like a person possessed, touching and marveling at each carving.

“The reproductions at House Sloth… they pale in comparison. The carvings are different, too. At least on this one.”

Envy snorted. “Please tell my brother that. He’ll be furious.”

She traced the art, slowly circling the columns. He wished they could remain there for as long as she liked, coming up with their own theories. But that wasn’t meant to be. She’d said Abyssus had mentioned sunset; he’d wager that was less than a quarter of an hour away.

He left the artist to her quiet contemplation and strode around the perimeter, looking for any clue or hint of what they were meant to do next.

The cavern had no other unique attributes aside from the Fae relics. He studied the shadows cast on the ground, wondering if they were meant to spark an idea.

Camilla expelled a breath, the sound breaking the stillness of the chamber. He turned to face her; she’d been watching him. As closely as she’d been just examining the pillars.

“What’s wrong with your court?” she asked. “Before we go any further, I need to know. I know that’s what’s driving you. I want to know what happened.”

His brows rose. That was the last question he’d expected her to ask him.

“The butler, your guards, the blood…” She narrowed her eyes, as if she could see through the wall he’d erected. “I’ve been going over my interactions at House Envy, and I can’t make sense of them.”

“What interactions?”

“Your butler didn’t remember where he was or who you were. Your guards could only repeat the same phrase continually. It’s like…” She nibbled on her lower lip. “It’s like they’re all losing their memories. And the blood…”

She glanced back at the pillars, brow crinkled.

“That’s it, isn’t it? Your court is losing their memories. And in the wreckage, somehow tearing each other apart.”

She wasn’t looking at him. Like she knew if she did it would be too hard for him to respond.

He remained still, silent. Waiting for her to piece more together. After a moment, she continued.

“The artifact you’re after, somehow that will stop the memory loss and whatever is making them attack one another. That’s why you need to win the game. Your court is falling apart, literally ripping itself apart in the process.”

Envy ran a hand through his hair, pacing away.

“I wouldn’t say falling apart. Fuck.”

That was exactly what was happening.

He walked away, shaking his head. Camilla watched him silently, allowing him time to speak without prompting.

Envy had been holding on to this secret for so long, he didn’t know how to let it go.

He stopped pacing.

“Like all demons in each House of Sin, my court isn’t immortal like me and my brothers, but even being long-lived is not without its complications.”

Camilla gave him a wry smile. “Mm.”

“To sum it up succinctly. Yes. My court is failing. Every few hundred years or so they need to purge memories in order to make new ones. A problem mortals wouldn’t understand. There are… complications when they aren’t able to purge. Namely, they begin forgetting. Overloaded, they confuse delusion with reality. Friend becomes foe. Everyone poses a danger.”

Understanding flickered in her gaze.

“If they can’t remember or make new memories, they cannot fuel their sin of choice, either.”

He gave her a bittersweet smile. She was much too clever indeed.

“Which in turn cannot fuel my power,” he added softly, for the first time confessing the full scope of what he’d been facing.

The chalice was the missing piece. Envy had inadvertently given it up more than two centuries before, and every year since, they’d been slowly losing power.

Then the game had begun, and things had gotten worse.

Camilla did not gasp or pity him. She was suddenly beside him, grabbing his arm, squeezing it firmly.

Silver eyes flashed like lightning, her words just as striking.

“You’re going to win.”

His mouth curved into a faint smile. “I never should have lost to begin with.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“It was my fault. I gave up the Chalice of Memoria, setting everything in motion.”

He wished he could take that action back. It was one of the few regrets he’d ever had.

“It’s a long story,” he added, noting her continued look. “We don’t have time for it now.”

“We absolutely do,” she said. “I think I solved the clue. But I need to know what you’re really after before I hand over whatever prize you’re seeking.”

He knew she wasn’t lying, so he finally gave in and told her the whole story.

“Without the Chalice of Memoria to offload memories, eventually my court will weaken to extinction, my rule will weaken, and my circle will be susceptible to being absorbed by another more powerful circle or sin. The chaos of a circle falling… let’s just say it would give the Unseelie King an opening to create more discord in our realm.”

He exhaled.

“There are two objects needed to set things to rights. The Chalice of Memoria, and the Aether Scrolls.”

Camilla remained silent, listening.

“I loaned the Chalice of Memoria to the mortal I was involved with. It was a silly request—she wished to drink from it on her birthday, be the envy of her friends.”

“She knew your sin.”

He nodded.

“It was only supposed to be gone for a few hours, so I didn’t see the harm. I should have. I knew what losing it would mean to my court. Instead of a small gathering with her mortal friends, she brought it to Faerie that night. When she died, Lennox found it and discovered its value.”

“She sounds like she was selfish.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Aren’t we all sometimes?”

Camilla pursed her lips, looking like she had a lot more to say on the matter but wouldn’t.

His sin ignited, flaring with her burst of jealousy. It fueled him, healing some of his wounds. Camilla misunderstood his defense.

Envy did not care for the mortal; he refused to even speak her name. He simply didn’t view her selfishness as her worst sin.

“What do the scrolls do?” Camilla asked.

“It helps to fully understand the chalice first. The Chalice of Memoria is carved with symbols and runes. So it not only siphons memories, but when activated properly can grant immortality, strike an enemy down, or give someone infinite wealth. Or anything else they desire. It is an object of immense and terrible power that predates even the oldest demons in the realm. The Aether Scrolls contain the spells needed to activate the chalice.”

“All the players were after the same prize, then.”

Envy lifted a shoulder. “The Chalice of Memoria can become anything for anyone, making it unique to any individual. I imagine that’s why Lennox used it.”

“Why can’t you give your court memory stones to help?”

“That would be rather convenient, wouldn’t it?” He gave her a wistful smile. “Memory stones only work when the person purging the memory recalls what they’d like to forget with clarity. Since the memory fog started, my court cannot recall in enough detail. Even though it’s been a slow descent into madness, when it first started, we weren’t prepared. The fog only lasted for a few moments, easily passed off as tiredness. It wasn’t until things got much worse that I understood. Then it was too late to offload any memories to the memory stones.”

Camilla seemed as frustrated by that as he had been.

“Who has the scrolls?”

He hesitated. This was information even his second-in-command didn’t know.

“I do. But… I can’t access them now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I cannot summon my wings.”

“Expand on ‘cannot summon’ them, please.”

“My wings are still there, under my skin, waiting. Sometimes the need to summon them… is uncomfortable. But I can’t risk it. Yet. I do not have enough power to hold my court together at the same time. Especially when seeing Lennox is inevitable. I cannot waste an ounce of reserves before I fight him.”

“And how do your wings relate to the scrolls?”

He thought of the single emerald feather Lennox had sent him, the mockery of the gesture. “After the chalice was stolen, I had the scrolls fused with my wings to keep them out of enemy hands. Think of them like invisible tattoos, I suppose. It’s an ancient demon trick.”

Camilla stared, stunned. “You’ve had access to them this whole time?”

“Not truly. As my court weakens, so does my power. And they mean nothing without the chalice.”

“But you fought those beasts and the vampire prince,” she argued. “How is your power that diminished?”

“Brute force, darling. Not magic.”

“What about the Hexed Throne?”

“I stabbed it with my House dagger, no magic needed.”

Envy clasped her chin, drawing her gaze to his.

His tone hardened. “This look is exactly why I haven’t told anyone. I am not yet defeated, Camilla. Do not pity me.”

She bared her teeth, a lovely little feral animal hiding behind her pretty, cultured smile.

“I don’t pity you. I’m simply trying to make sense of your story.”

“Truth for truth.” His attention sharpened on her. “Time for you to share with me, Miss Antonius.”

Camilla pointed to the carvings.

“I believe the scales here represent Libra. These circles are the sun and moon. The sun sits on one scale and the moon on the other. They’re equal in size, but the moon is lower, heavier.”

She dropped her finger to an intriguing creature.

“At first, I thought this was simply a stylized satyr, but look closely. The legs and horns of a goat are likely a depiction of Pan.” She dragged her finger across a series of dots and lines. “This half-goat, half-fish also symbolizes the sea goat.”

“And a sea goat relates how?”

“Simply put, this geometric design is the constellation Capricornus. Pan standing beside it is the biggest indication.”

She followed the carvings up—past what looked like crude depictions of evergreen branches to the top, where a sword dripped blood, a crescent moon shadowed on its blade.

“This is basically a carved set of instructions on how to activate the pillar.”

A chill caressed his spine. “Camilla… you’re brilliant.”

He went to prick his finger, but she stopped him.

“Not your blood. Mine.” She nodded at the pillar. “The symbols all indicate a date. The evergreens, the constellations, the moon. Everything represents the winter solstice. The longest night.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

Something flickered in her expression. “It’s my birthday.”

He sensed a partial lie. “The date can vary for mortals—”

“We’re not in the mortal realm.”

“But the Pillars were carved thousands of years ago. By your own admission you weren’t born then.”

“Envy…”

Something in her tone made the skin along Envy’s spine prickle.

“There’s something I—”

A deep rumble shook the ground, splintering the marble floor. They were almost out of time. Envy flashed a grim smile. “Now, Miss Antonius. Whatever you have to say—let it wait.”

A war raged behind her gaze. “It shouldn’t be delayed. You really ought to—”

Another crack split the floor near the mouth of the cavern. She flinched.

“We don’t have the luxury of time, Camilla. Activate the Pillars, quickly, now.”

She looked torn, but finally heeded out of necessity.

Once they made it through the next several hours, Envy might consider the possibility of breaking the rules he’d set for himself so long ago. Because he knew where they were headed next: the Wild Court.

Maybe if he could face his own demons there, he could pursue Camilla after all.

Because, truth for truth, Envy would have to admit: one night hadn’t nearly been enough.

He was starting to want much more.

Not starting. He wanted more before she’d ever left his side.

And with the game nearly won, perhaps he could have it all.

“When you’re ready,” he said, handing her his House dagger, hilt first. “Let’s end this.”