Page 46 of Divine Fate (Cursed Legacies #4)
45
EVERETT
The screaming outside is loud enough to be heard despite the thick stone walls. Maven withdraws her etherium knife, which quickly transforms into a scythe as she darts out of the temple with her unnatural speed. The rest of us are right behind her.
As soon as I throw open the double doors, the sound of terrified chaos magnifies.
Everyone at the celebration is reacting in real time to their greatest fears. Many of them run, blind from whatever they see in their heads as they crash into each other or trees. Many cultists and Reformists are attacking each other. Ex-bounty hunters shout nonsense as they race out of the clearing like they’re being chased by demons.
Felix is trying to pull a coyote that I can only assume is Dirk off of another of his quintet members. Kenzie throws a half-eaten meat skewer into a cultist’s eye to keep them from attacking her in their panic-induced insanity.
Other Reformists lie sobbing, paralyzed with sheer terror as the whispers of that mutated, sickening wraith taunt the living from the shadows of this dead forest. Several loud gunshots go off somewhere in the distance before hellhounds begin to howl.
My attention zips to Maven in time to see her dodge an insane Reformist, vault over a feast table, and swing her scythe in a glowing arc. It whistles, cutting through the center of a wraith that howls and hisses even louder than the rest of the screams permeating this forest.
The hissing laughter of another wraith echoes nearby, just barely audible above the screams permeating this forest.
There’s still fear in Maven’s voice as she speaks through the bond, which tells me Gideon is still here somewhere. The wards that Coates put up aren’t strong enough to protect these people. Silas, these people need ? —
Protection. He’s already running down the steps of the temple and veering toward the edge of the clearing, throwing blood magic that annihilates several shifting shadows. Leave it to me.
A stark scream of pain nearby catches my attention as she cuts off. A fear-blinded Orlando Coates just unwittingly wandered through one of the small fire pits. Now he’s on fire as he runs through the clearing, bumping into other terrified people.
Raising my hand, I freeze him and unfreeze him in a matter of seconds, putting out the flames. The cultist leader slumps to the ground, passed out. I glance at my hand. I almost forgot how accurate I am with my element when my curse is broken.
I spent most of my life being complimented on my abilities and taking those compliments as empty flattery, since I was obviously lacking.
Now? I've never felt this strong.
“No! Maven!”
Baelfire’s roar from beside me sends fear and panic hurtling through my system. Godsdamn it, is she hurt? Is she dying again? Where is she? I rush down into the chaos of the shadow- plagued, ruined celebration, quickly growing desperate when I can’t see my snowdrop.
Darling, Crypt chokes from wherever he is in Limbo. What happened to your eyes? Gods above, you’re bleeding everywhere. Crane, get over here and ? —
Maven swears through the bond. Whatever you guys are seeing, it’s the wraiths getting to you. I’m perfectly fine.
As if to prove her point, the agonized shriek of another wraith echoes in the woods surrounding the clearing. Maven emerges between the trees, still gripping her scythe, her beautiful white dress splattered with the dark blood of these intangible, fear-wielding shadow fiends.
Relief makes me weak for a second before a fear-blinded cultist slams into my side, taking me down. My head smacks against something hard, making my ears ring. When the cultist tries to claw at my skin in their blind horror, I freeze her solid and shove her off of me, getting back to my feet.
My vision is blurry from hitting my head, and I’m even more disoriented as I hear more gunshots being fired somewhere far away. But I go still as otherworldly hissing voice fills my ears.
“Favored, ye walk alone…”
Those words send goosebumps over my skin. It was never fully translated, but those lines are from my personal prophecy. Fear clots in my throat, and I can’t move as my heart’s pace increases to a dangerous rate.
Suddenly, all I can see is Maven, dead in my arms.
Gone.
I was always destined to fail her. To be alone.
Everett, get down , her beautiful voice tells me.
But I barely register that warning, because her perfect body is limp in my arms. The emptiness in her lifeless eyes breaks something in me all over again. Tears drip down my cheeks, freezing along with everything else I touch.
“ Telum -cursed…vice of keeper dead, ” the whispers mock, still reciting the prophecy that’s tormented me for years. “Deaths to five… ”
Something slams into me again. It’s disconcerting as hell because all I can see is the worst moment of my life on replay, but I’m aware someone just tackled my physical body. A whistle cuts through the air before a furious hiss and screech assault my ears?—
And suddenly, I’m blinking up at the darkening twilight sky.
Maven just slayed the final wraith that was tormenting everyone in this clearing. Crypt tackled me to move me out of the way so she could cut the damn thing in half. A lot of the screaming in the clearing begins to taper off as the wraiths’ influence dies with it.
I exhale, shakily wiping the moisture off my temples as I get to my feet. Maven sees and immediately steps close to embrace me.
I don’t care that she’s covered in wraith blood. I pull her tightly against me for a second, internally reminding myself over and over that she’s here and she’s alive and we’re bound again. That was just another godsdamned wraith getting inside my head.
Still…
I’m pretty sure the thought of losing my entire world all over again will always haunt me.
Tell me again, I plead with Maven, only speaking to her telepathically.
She knows exactly what I mean as she peers up at me. Despite slaying wraiths, she’s still so breathtaking that it fucking hurts as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss my jaw.
I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.
Those words are my lifeline.
Crypt tips Maven’s chin back, studying her face to reassure himself that her eyes are still where they’re supposed to be. Then he grins. “You wear the blood of fiends so well, darling. Any chance you’d let me give your scythe a swing? Seems fun.”
“It is,” our keeper smiles back before turning serious again, her determined gaze sweeping over the clearing. “But we have a problem. None of the wraiths I just killed were Gideon. He's playing his favorite game.”
Hide and seek. I remember the fiendish asshole taunting her about it the first time we crossed paths with him. For the last six months, I haven’t seen a single fucking glimpse of this asshole—I’d hoped Maven killed him in Alaska after all.
Clearly, we’re not that lucky.
The celebration is in shambles as everyone slowly comes out of the fear-induced hysteria. The Baird quintet hovers protectively around Kenzie while cultists tend to their burnt, unconscious leader. Reformists check on each other, still on edge as they examine their surroundings fearfully.
There are a lot of injuries, but no one is dead. They probably have my keeper’s quick response time to thank for that.
I'm eyeing all nearby shadows as Silas and Baelfire rejoin us. Baelfire is smeared with blood that isn't his own. Other than looking incredibly guilt-ridden, Silas is fine.
“I should have reinforced the wards the moment we arrived. Forgive me, sangfluir. This was my fault,” he tells Maven.
“Believing that doesn't make it true,” she mutters, still clutching her scythe tightly as she looks for signs of the worst of the wraiths. “Besides, if Gideon was able to get through the Divide before, you changing the wards wouldn't have kept him out of?—”
Three gunshots fire off from far out in the woods, drawing our attention.
“Someone needs help,” Baelfire realizes. Then he looks quickly over the aftermath of the wraith attack, and the blood inexplicably drains from his face. “Hang on. Where's…”
My attention is called by Felix, who's been healing coyote bites on Vivienne’s leg.
“Commander.” Felix holds up his arm to show that his Reformist scrying brand is glowing. “It’s a distress signal. Douglas just set it off.”
“Quinn,” Baelfire chokes, already stumbling toward the edge of the newly-warded clearing. “She's missing. So is Lillian.”
Shit .
The rest of us don't hesitate to rush after him. Even though I want to beg Maven to stay behind in the clearing and help the others recuperate after the horrors of the wraiths, I know my keeper would never willingly send us off into danger and stay behind.
The woods are filled with twisted, dead trees and swirling mist. As twilight shifts fully into nightfall, darkness presses in as the five of us stay close together, running and scanning for signs of anyone.
“Lillian!” Baelfire shouts. “Quinnie?”
The rest of us call for them, too. But finally, I come to a screeching stop when I catch a glimpse of a dead ex-mercenary slumped on the ground nearby.
“Over here,” I tell the others.
When I reach the motionless legacy, I realize others are scattered on the ground, either dead or severely wounded in this thickly wooded area. Two hellhounds are slumped lifelessly to the ground here, too.
With the way some of these people were bitten multiple times and flung around like ragdolls, I’m not surprised when I see Asher’s pet hellhound, Devil, curled up on himself nearby. It looks like he was shot once or twice, but he’s still breathing.
Other motionless ex bounty hunters were clearly shot, too.
“Gideon is nearby,” Maven murmurs beside me, scanning the dark woods beyond the light spell she’s summoned into her hands.
Silas eyes the shadows as he steps over one of the dead bodies, calling his own light spell that glows red. “Either he got into these legacies’ heads, or he got into Asher Douglas’s. If it’s the latter, the mercenary’s distress signal may have been a trap arranged for us by the wraith.”
Godsdamn it. He’s right.
“Nope, no traps. Just me getting ambushed by my friends thanks to that shadowy motherfucker.”
We’re all surprised to see Asher Douglas shirtless, slumped against a tree behind some overgrown shrubbery. He grimaces as he tries to dig a bullet out of one of his shins. It’s not the only bullet in him—he was clearly shot a few times. He’s covered in so much blood, it’s almost difficult to make out all the other tattoos covering his bare torso.
When Maven sees the state he’s in, she glances at Silas. That’s all she needs to do before he crouches to help Asher heal some of the more serious bullet wounds. The mercenary exhales in relief as his body slowly begins to mend under the fae’s blood magic.
“What happened here?” I ask, wary.
What if this is just another wraith trick?
“Saw Lillian and a few others running out of the clearing, so I followed to see what was going on. Didn’t know they were being influenced by a wraith,” Douglas grunts. “My friends went out of their fucking minds as soon as we got into the woods. Dev and I tried to stop them, so now we’re both Swiss cheese. That’s all I know.”
Baelfire squints at him. “And we're supposed to believe the wraith didn't affect you at all?”
Douglas can't answer as he winces in pain when Silas leans him forward to pick out another bullet lodged high in one of his shoulders. Maven tips her head to study the golden phoenix covering most of the burly ex-bounty hunter’s bloodied, bare back.
“So that’s why the wraith didn’t get to you,” she muses. “That’s a blessing, not a tattoo. You were touched by Arati.”
“Way to make the queen of the gods sound perverted.”
“I’m related to her. Of course, she’s perverted.” She straightens, looking around again as ravens croak somewhere in these trees. “Where are Lillian and Quinn?”
The mercenary glances over at his curled-up, bloodied, massive hellhound and whistles. “Dev. Good boy. Let her go.”
The hellhound’s red eyes move to us before he huffs and uncurls his body, moving his dark tail out of the way, too. As soon as Baelfire sees his niece unconscious, huddled against the hellhound’s side, he hurries to her side to check her pulse, ignoring the hellhound’s warning growl.
“Is she hurt?” Crypt demands, looking back at Douglas.
Douglas swears when Silas finally digs the bullet out of his shoulder. “She tripped and hit her head on something when she was chasing after Lillian. Probably just a concussion. She’s safe with Dev and me until we can get her back to Commander Decimus. Dev has orders to guard her with his life.”
That surprises me. That damn hellhound is the only thing this mercenary cares about, besides food, sleep, and money.
“Thank the fucking gods. I owe you,” Baelfire manages as he stands, letting the hellhound guard the little water elemental again.
“Chasing after Lillian?” Maven repeats the mercenary’s words. “Where did Lillian go?”
His face falls. “She didn’t go willingly. The shadows came to life out of fucking nowhere and dragged her away—that way,” he adds, nodding with his chin before looking surprisingly sympathetic. “Her screams cut off before I could finish handling these guys. I’m sorry.”
Fucking gods.
I turn to Maven, already reaching for her, but her inscrutable mask slides on. She turns and takes off through the dark woods in the direction he indicated.
“Maven!” Silas shouts as we race after her.
Even Baelfire is struggling to keep up with our keeper’s pace as she dodges trees, leaps over fallen logs, and scours this part of the woods for Lillian. The light spell in her hands and Silas’s red glow from beside me cast a dim, disturbing glow all around. They’re just barely keeping the shadows at bay.
The darkness in these woods feels almost palpable as Maven veers suddenly to the right, tracking Gideon using her ability to sense fiends. Chills prickle over my entire body when I hear a hissing whisper somewhere in the dead trees surrounding us.
Maven goes perfectly still. The rest of us surround her in the quintet formation we were taught at Everbound, silent and scanning.
“I’ll stay and search for her,” Crypt tries, glancing at Maven. “But if you stay, it’s exactly what he wants. He’s after you, love. Baiting you.”
“I know. He can have me. Not Lillian,” she grits, her face lit ominously by the light in her hands.
“No,” I snap, glaring at her. “Crypt is right. We’re in the perfect place for him to attack. This asshole wants to feed on your fear, but if you leave?—”
“I’m not leaving until I find her.”
I want to protest again, but we all hear the slight tremble in Maven’s voice. It’s killing me to hear her like this.
But we’re not letting Gideon anywhere near her. The things he put me through inside my head in Alaska were fucking sickening. I loathe that he was ever inside my keeper's mind at all. There's no way in hell any of us are letting him torment her ever again.
“Boo—” Baelfire begins, equally desperate to get her out of here.
But his words cut off as the shadows thicken and come alive around us within a split second. Darkness crashes over us like a wave of viscous black smoke, concealing everything from sight and snuffing out the light spells Maven and Silas were just holding.
Instinctively, I fling ice toward a shadow I see moving toward Maven, but Crypt shouts in pain instead. Fuck. Baelfire snarls, my keeper gasps, and then the most awfully sickening sound of flesh and ligaments ripping and tearing echoes around us?—
And then warm liquid splatters on my face.
I’ve been in battle on the front lines enough times to know by now that’s what a spray of someone else’s blood feels like.
Oh my gods. Oh my gods. No.
Maven .
I can’t even speak or focus enough to send it through the bond. I’m frozen in horror as blood drips down my face. But I didn’t feel the bond break. So what the hell just happened?
“Maven—” Silas starts to shout, just as alarmed and confused as I am.
“ Sweet raven, sweeter fear, finder's keepers ends here,” whispers sing, echoing around the dark forest. “Never liked her liking you. Time to see the tears.”
Silas begins reciting another spell, but he cries out in pain just as something barbaric hooks into my skull, twisting and wrenching until it slides deeply into my brain.
I collapse as stomach-churning images flood my vision. A younger version of Maven, sobbing and thrashing helplessly on the floor of a gnarled forest a lot like this one as her nose bleeds. Gutted monsters hung up on display outside of large, foreboding gates made of onyx. Young teenagers fighting each other to the death inside a massive, ornate arena, blood pooling on the stone floor as grisly-looking spectators watch.
But unlike the last time this wraith got into my head, it only lasts a fraction of a second before Maven shouts in a language I don’t understand. A flash of holy magic light blinds me for a moment, extinguishes any darkness left in this section of Everbound Forest. I’m sure a flare of light this strong can be spotted all the way from the castle.
Her spell completely drives that sick asshole out of my head as the shadows completely retreat as a glow like midday light lingers in the forest. We’re left alone in this space so suddenly, it’s disorienting.
For a brief second, I'm grateful for Maven’s powerful magic.
And then my attention drops to the grisly scene that was just lit up to highlight every detail.
Oh my fucking gods.
My heart cracks when Maven's knees hit the forest floor as she numbly takes in this sickening scene.
Lillian is literally in pieces. Her blood drips from nearby tree trunks and is splattered all over mine and the rest of my quintet’s horrified faces. Gore and body parts are strewn around the forest floor.The human’s head is nearby, her blond curly hair stained with blood.
I quickly look away as nausea threatens to rise up my throat.
I've never seen Maven break the way she does now. In the shocked silence of this haunting forest, her first cry of grief tears my heart clean in two. For the first time since I met my resilient, strong keeper, she breaks down into heart-rending tears.
This was her caretaker. Her oldest friend. The only person who helped Maven survive hell before helping me survive my own version of it over the last six months. Maven just barely got Lillian back into her life. Out of all the things that motherfucking wraith could have done to hurt her, this is the worst.
For one horrible moment that seems to last forever, none of us knows what to say to comfort our devastated keeper.
I can't breathe.
Finally, Baelfire gets on his knees in front of Maven and pulls her against his chest, carefully blocking the ghastly view. I glance at the others for the first time and see that Crypt’s side is still healing from where I accidentally cut him with a spike of ice in the darkness. Otherwise, my quintet is unharmed as we face this new horror of Maven facing a loss so deep.
We need to get her to safety, Silas finally says through the bond, carefully leaving our keeper out of it as he glances at the spell around us. This will fade and that damned wraith will come back to taunt her.
Yes, get her to safety and I’ll hunt down that godsforsaken fucking wraith myself, Crypt grits telepathically.
You can’t kill him without blessed bone, I remind him before looking at Baelfire.
Bael nods and tries to brush tears off Maven's face without letting her see past his big frame. “Come on, Raincloud,” he murmurs softly, trying to move her. “Let’s get out of here.”
“No,” she resists, wiping at the tears that drip off her cheeks and chin. “I'm waiting for her.”
Silas’s expression is dark as he once again glances at the awful scene before us. “Her spirit isn’t here, sangfluir.”
“Not L—Lillian,” she manages, her voice raspy from crying. “My mother. I prayed, so she has to come. I have to fix this.”
Does she think Syntyche will bring Lillian back? I feel so fucking helpless, watching the woman I love in such pain.
And Silas is right. The light spell is slowly fading around us as darkness creeps back into this area of Everbound Forest. I don't want Maven anywhere near shadows right now—not when that piece of shit could try to get to her again. She needs time to mourn, but her safety is my biggest priority for the rest of my life.
Waiting for Syntyche isn't an option.
“Snowdrop,” I murmur, picking up the etherium knife she dropped. “It's time to go.”
“No,” she sobs.
“We'll give her a proper burial tomorrow, darling,” Crypt promises gently, crouching beside her to cradle her face. He looks as tortured as the rest of us to see her like this. “In the daylight. She’ll be laid to rest beside your headstone, if you like, but we need to get you out of here.”
“No.”
Even in the depths of mourning, she's the most stubborn person I've ever met. Baelfire is just holding her as she weeps. Silas has silently begun using magic to clean up the worst of the macabre scene, trying to spare her from seeing more of this tragedy.
One moment, Maven is inconsolable as she's wrapped tightly in Baelfire's arms. But just as her spell begins to finally fade and I hear fiendish, chilling laughter from gods know where, her rage takes over. Maven promptly rips herself out of Baelfire's arms, holding her hand toward me for her knife.
Silas sees and shakes his head. “No, sangfluir. Now is not the time?—”
“Now is the only time,” she seethes. “He came to carry out Amadeus’s warning. He’s only lingering to feed on my fear, and then he’ll disappear again. I’m not waiting to avenge her.”
“Maven—” I begin to protest, panic squeezing my heart at the thought of that twisted bastard getting anywhere close to her.
She silences my words with a look that shows me all the raw fury hiding beneath her broken exterior.
I let my argument die. After all, my keeper found a way back from fucking Paradise when the gods insisted she had to stay. If the gods themselves couldn't stop her from accomplishing what she put her mind to, how the hell do I stand a chance?
But I'm not leaving her side.
Never fucking doing that again.
We're all tense and silent as the last of her holy magic spell slowly evaporates, leaving nothing but the dim glow from Crypt’s lit-up markings behind. Maven holds her etherium dagger, twisting it slowly in her hand as she bides her time.
Gideon’s chilling whispers dance through the darkness, mocking. “Little goddess, broken bird, weeping daughter, never heard. No more chess for you. ”
He hisses with laughter.
She remains quiet, waiting as her poker face hides her pain.
My jaw clenches as I remain close to my keeper, frost called to my fingertips as I prepare to do—I don't even know what. Unlike other wraiths, he's tangible, but my ice won’t hurt him.
“Such delicious fear, sweetest raven Maven,” Gideon sings.
Baelfire is pissed off. Blue flames flicker beneath his skin as he looks around. “Come out, you motherfucking coward.”
More otherworldly laughter bounces between the trees as the experimental wraith toys with us. Shadows shift, swirling and solidifying occasionally around the place we stand at the ready.
Crypt. Go into Limbo. He can’t see you there, Maven says telepathically.
He drops into it immediately.
“Hunting me, hunting you. Back from a grave to mourn at a grave,” the wraith taunts. “If she never loved you, she would have survived. They who love you must die.”
To underline his point, the wraith finally makes his next move. Shadows lurch towards Baelfire, but the shifter dodges aside just in time.My attention is pinned on the swirling, tactile shadows. I barely have time to notice the vague, dark figure rising up behind Silas before Maven’s etherium blade is hurtling toward it.
Her knife whooshes just over Silas's head and plunges into the center of the wraith. Gideon's hiss of pain fills the air as shadows wrap around Silas’s neck and yank out the knife all at once. The blade twists down, aiming at the fae’s chest as he’s being strangled?—
Until Crypt drops out of Limbo and slashes his own sword upward, knocking her knife free of the shadows.
Maven capitalizes on the wraith’s temporary confusion, moving faster than my eyes can register as she catches the spiraling blade and darts forward. Suddenly, I'm watching Maven bury the etherium blade into the fiend.
Gideon shrieks, and his tangible shadows try to swarm around Maven like thousands of wickedly sharp knives—but she shouts something that makes holy magic flare around her. Her spell punctures through every one of his attempts to harm her as she stabs him again, black wraith blood gushing.
Over and over and over, she stabs it.
The shrieks are deafening as what's left of Gideon falls to the forest floor, writhing in a mass of dying shadows. Maven doesn't let up even after the writhing stops, but once the wraith evaporates like all the others, my snowdrop looks exhausted.
Silas is still trying to catch his breath after nearly getting strangled, but Baelfire helps him up as Crypt and I immediately crouch beside Maven.
Fresh tears are on her pretty face as I pull her close, quietly repeating that everything will be okay.
“He's dead,” Baelfire assures her softly, glancing down at the place the wraith just was.
“You avenged her beautifully,” Crypt adds, brushing hair out of her tear-stained face.
“So she did,” a woman's voice murmurs beside us.
I don't even have words for the kind of terror that floods me just with those three words. This is a completely different kind of fear from the blind panic wraiths wield. It's controlled. Absolute. The kind of primordial fright that haunts you when you least expect it.
With my heart pounding in my throat, I peer over Maven's head to see my mother-in-law in the flesh for the first time.