Page 19 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood (Dragons of Tirene #3)

Chapter Nineteen

Am I still…alive? Surely I’d know if I were dead.

Right?

I have to be alive.

The weight of the dark still presses against my skin, along with the vibrations of the goddess’s words. The warmth of her presence. Fear swells in my heart, and sweat trickles down my spine.

I’m surrounded by Nyc.

This darkness is neither a thing, nor an absence of a thing. The darkness is the sacred made solid?

Panic knots my stomach as I grapple with the reality of a deity speaking to me. What divine transgression have I committed to warrant this encounter? Did the priestess ever stand where I stand now, cloaked in celestial twilight?

Don’t freak out. Do. Not. Freak. Out.

Fuck, I might be freaking out.

“Dragoncaller.” The whispery, omnipresent voice billows around me. “Daughter of flame.”

“Forgive me, Goddess.” The realization hits that I’ve neglected the courtesy of a proper greeting. How exactly does one even greet a god? With a deep inhale, I muster all the decorum forged from a life among nobility. Eyes closed—though I’m not sure why I bother when the inky void is absolute—I bow my head. “Great Nyc, eternal shroud of the heavens, I greet you with reverence and awe.”

Am I doing it right? Laying on the formality too thick?

Laughter echoes, not mocking but light, like moonbeams dancing on water. “Daughter of fire, in my darkness, there is no need for closed eyes. You are already peering into the heart of my being. You need not seek me in the small spaces within you where light does not reach. I am in your heart, your mind, your blood, and currently all around you as well.”

The words send me spiraling anew.

They’re literal.

I currently exist within the essence of Nyc?

While I had guessed as much, hearing her say the words solidifies this new reality. A vast, unknowable entity. No up or down anchors me. I have no horizon to reckon myself against. I am adrift, untethered from the world I know, floating in Nyc’s sea of shadows.

That’s more than a little disturbing. “Oh. I see.”

“Do you, mortal? Even here, in the bosom of oblivion, the world persists, cradled in my embrace.” Nyc’s velvet murmur caresses my mind, proving she does in fact exist within the darkness of my skull. “The darkness in you, the darkness beneath us. It lives as I live. It connects all things. You are not untethered. You are anchored to all of reality within me.”

Thoughts come to me unbidden.

I think of Dame, the dragon whose instincts drove her to tunnel through the earth’s blackened veins, seeking solace for her unborn. The same darkness that urged her onward wraps around me now, a cosmic womb safeguarding life until its emergence.

“Your darkness…it is home to dragons, to magic, to life itself.” I bite my lip, awe drenching my words.

“Indeed, Dragoncaller.” Nyc’s presence, I understand suddenly, is a soothing blanket woven from the threads of primordial night. “And within it, all things find their beginning and their end.”

A shiver of connection roots me to the dark, a lifeline in the void.

It’s warm, this darkness. Warm like a living body, like the first safe haven every soul knows before breath meets air. I’m floating, but not lost. This shadow is a sanctuary, an umbilical cord binding me to existence itself.

I don’t know how to respond, so for now, I remain silent.

“Darkness cradles all life before it appears into the fleeting caress of light.” Nyc’s tone resonates with an ancient melancholy I can almost touch. “And to darkness, all life must return. No matter how long that might take.”

I clutch at the warmth, at the solace it brings, yet the sorrow in her tone unsettles me. Gods aren’t supposed to suffer from loss, are they? Could it be that even divine hearts know the ache of absence?

“Your time nears, Dragoncaller.” Nyc’s whisper drifts over me, and my heart stutters. “You will be buried in the earth, only to arise anew and to die.”

Icy fingers of fear curl around my spine. My time? Buried and reborn only to perish? The prophecy…I’d dared to hope it was just a story, but Nyc’s words carve reality from myth. A pit forms in my stomach as the weight of destiny presses down on me.

My breath catches. “I’m sorry. What? Are you saying my end is predetermined?”

“In every shadow of fate, there is truth you cannot yet see, daughter of flame.” Her eerie voice sounds as old as the night itself. “Free will cannot be taken. But as the drachen and Narc have proven, it can be caged. There are those who perceive which path you will choose. That is how prophecy is written.”

I’ll choose to be buried? To die?

That thought puts a whole new spin on what I thought I once knew. Just months ago, I would have fought to live. No matter what. Now I know there are people I would die for.

Chills dance across my skin, and the world tips on its axis. She knows why I stand before her, why the threads of my life weave through the tapestry of Tirene’s future. But understanding still eludes me, slipping through my fingers like smoke.

Pull yourself together. Ask questions. Nyc could disappear any second.

“You mentioned shadows of fate. Are you saying there are multiple paths? That anything could happen in the future?” That I’m not about to die?

“Tell me, Dragoncaller, do you understand why you have been summoned to my realm?”

Wow. She just blew off my questions. “I think so.” My torrent of thoughts shifts to what led me here today. The drachen’s rampage, the terror they spread, the lives they claim. The tapestry of fear that blankets our kingdom growing larger and stronger. Yet beneath that, a deeper ache throbs. The raw wound of loss. “My mother…”

“Ah, little mortal.” Her reassuring whisper is a phantom touch upon my brow as soothing as a mother’s kiss. I want to lean into it. “Take comfort. Lynnea has been delivered unto my embrace. Soon, she will join the dark, resting among those who have passed before.”

A sob claws its way up from my chest, longing and despair intermingling.

Would I glimpse her smile one last time? Hear her gentle reprimand laced with love? It’s a fool’s hope. I know this. The living do not traverse the shadowed veil to parley with shades. Once surrendered to Nyc’s vast dominion, no soul returns until their kin unite in death’s eternal slumber.

“Seeing is not for the dark,” Nyc intones, her voice carrying the weight of eons. “In the absence of light, it is essence and deed that define us. Forms are meaningless where sight cannot reach.”

But then how will I find them, Mother and Father, in that endless expanse? Doubt coils within me. “How will I recognize them when my time comes to search the next world for them?”

“Such knowledge is not for the living.” Her voice holds an edge of mystery, an unspoken note that hints at secrets yet unveiled. “I am not able to tell you that.”

Not able? Or won’t? I don’t dare voice that thought.

“But that is not the question you should be asking.” Her reprimand reminds me of my mother so much I immediately straighten. “And you might want to hurry. Your lover is worried about you. Even now, he’s calling your name.”

At the mention of Sterling’s fear for me, I blurt out the first question I think of. “Are there any living phoenixes?”

“Living.” Nyc hums. “It depends on what you mean by that.”

Is it too hard to just give me a straight answer?

Another one of Nyc’s echoey, moonbeam laughs washes over me.

“Phoenix tears.” I change the direction of my queries, determination sharpening my tone. “I need them to stop the corruption. Do they still exist? Where can I get them?”

“Indeed, phoenix tears are required.” Sorrow coats her words like dew on a summer morning. I can nearly taste the water on my skin. “You will find them in the Hidden Valley.”

Hidden Valley? The name means nothing to me. “I don’t know where that is.”

I wobble, suddenly adrift again, as though unmoored from the world itself. Did something happen? Something I can’t see? The goddess’s grief pricks tears in my eyes.

“Directions can be given…” Nyc tapers off as if deep in thought. The longer the silence stretches on, the stronger the uneasy pitching of my stomach grows. What could possibly give a goddess pause?

I’m just about to gather my courage and ask if anything’s wrong when she speaks. “I will require a favor in exchange.”

The uneasy pitching in my stomach expands into full-blown somersaults. My pulse throbs in my throat.

A favor?

For a goddess whose very essence surrounds me, cradles the world? What could I, a mortal fire wielder, offer to Nyc? How could I possibly possess anything she wants, or accomplish a task she can’t?

The story of Narc whispers through my head, causing my legs to tremble.

I want to say no. I should say no, but do I listen to reason and tell her thanks, but no thanks?

Of course not.

The drachen threat looms too large. “Okay. I can do that. Please, no murder-y favors, though.”

This is so going to bite me in the ass.

“Then a deal has been struck, daughter of flame.” Satisfaction weaves through her words. “In the forgotten wing of the palace, you will find the directions you need.”

Forgotten wing? What is she talking about? The old wing of the palace where Sterling, Jasper, and their younger sister grew up when their father was king? And how does she know I’ll find what I need there? Panic flickers as the void contracts. Am I going to be left alone in this binding nothingness?

But the blackness lifts, peeling away as if torn from the fabric of reality. This time, I keep my hands to myself, blinking against the sudden intrusion of light. The temple walls and the familiar alter before me become visible once more. An eternity could have dragged past since I came here, yet I’m sure it’s only been minutes.

A hand clasps mine, urgent, warm.

I return to the barely lit room of the temple, which now seems to shine bright enough to sting my eyes.

The sudden grip on my hand yanks me back to a world of shape and shadow. I blink, vision swaying as the temple swims into focus and Sterling’s concerned face comes into view.

“What happened?” He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me so hard I can barely breathe. “I’ve been calling your name, but I couldn’t see you. You literally disappeared.”

The scent of leather and soap and spice grounds me in reality. His touch ignites sparks at each point of contact. I savor the feel of him, the solidity of his presence. My gaze locks onto his, drinking in the sight of his ebony hair, the depth in his brown eyes that always seem to hold a storm within them.

I press a hand to his chest, putting the slightest amount of space between us so I can actually breathe. “This might sound a little crazy, but it was Nyc. She came to me.”

“Holy shit.” He exhales in a rush, tension bleeding from his posture. “What did she say?”

The weight of the goddess’s deal hangs heavy on my tongue, but for some unknown reason, I don’t share it.

Still, I have to tell him something. “She told me we need to seek out phoenix tears in some place called the Hidden Valley. And she told me where to find the thing that will lead us there.” The truth, if not the whole truth.

“Phoenix tears.” Sterling mulls over the words, the soldier in him surfacing, assessing, planning. “We should return to the palace, prepare for the journey.” His suggestion carries the promise of action, something tangible to cling to amid the uncertainty.

“Wait.” Curiosity piqued, I step away from him and trace the smooth rim of the jar.

The lid falls to one side as I peer inside, heart hitching at the sight of nothingness. A void where my offering once was. Nyc’s acceptance sends a shiver down my spine, the air crackling with the remnants of divine presence.

“What is it?”

“Look.” I show Sterling the empty vessel. “The harbinger owl’s feather…it’s gone. Could it be why she spoke to me?”

Sterling grabs the jar, peering inside as if expecting the offering to still be there. When his eyes meet nothing but darkness, they shift to me. “Where did you even find a harbinger owl? They’ve never been seen in this area.”

“There was one in the Lost City.”

The land was also protected by cave cats who seemed to recognize my blood. And a door that recognized my blood. One that granted me access to a room where I saw a vision about Nyc.

Has she been leading me this whole time? Or maybe her daughter, the goddess Mar? After all, dreams are Mar’s domain, and my dreams are what first led me to The Chronicles of the Mother Wurm in the first place. I found the book in a dream, then in real life, and I was curious. That’s how we learned of the drachen. And my family. And now Nyc wants a favor.

Movement catches my eye, and I find the priestess standing behind the altar. “Harbinger owls and cave cats have always been Nyc’s favored beasts.” She nods at me, a knowing smile on her pale lips.

She certainly understands more about what I’ve gone through than I’ve told her. I realize I can see her much more easily than I could before. My eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness of Nyc’s presence.

The goddess never told me if the drachen are associated with the myth about her son. Because the two have nothing in common? Or because what mother wants to speak ill of their child?

The priestess doesn’t appear surprised. I dip my chin and wonder if the gods speaking directly to humans isn’t an anomaly after all. Nyc spoke to Queen Aero as well. Perhaps these interactions occur more often than people realize.

Considering how sacred the experience was and how shaken I still am, I don’t plan on telling anyone about what I went through either.

“Thank you.” Though my simple words of gratitude are too small to encompass the enormity of what transpired, the priestess nods and motions us to the door in a clear sign of dismissal.

Outside, bright daylight stabs at my eyes. I locate the veil I left outside and place it on my head.

Seemingly unfazed by the sun, Sterling holds my hand and guides me down the path away from the temple.

Once we reach the edge of the forest, the world rushes back with the urgency of running feet. I squint in an attempt to see who’s approaching.

Agnar, Blair, and Leesa barrel toward us, their panic infectious.

“What is it?” Sterling jerks my hand, tucking me behind him as if to protect me from whatever sent them searching for us.

“Drachen have been spotted!” Blair gasps out between breaths, his words slamming into me with the force of a physical blow.

They’re back…before we have the answers we need to stop them.