Page 11 of Each Their Own Devil (Our Lady of Fire #3)
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THE PATH IS LOST
“The path to darkness is paved by the footsteps of those you once followed.” — The Book of Open Doors , Book IV: The Dark Passage
Aleja did not stop to see who else lingered around the field where the Avisai grazed. She spotted Bonnie at its edge, tending to her forest, but when Bonnie shouted her name, she did not respond.
The smaller dragon that had carried her to meet the Messenger fed on the body of an enormous owl. It looked up, eyes wide and resigned, as Aleja dismissed her Umbramare and stumbled across a ground pocked with enormous footprints.
“Meet me at the palace,” Aleja whispered furiously to Garm. “Don’t stop for anything. If Taddeas or Bonnie tries to get in your way, tell them you’re on a mission for Nicolas. You do not talk about what happened. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Garm replied with a nod that caused his helmet to slip a little lower on his brow. “But this is foolish, Al. You should go back. You know Nicolas will argue on your behalf.”
“We’re not staying in the Hiding Place. I’ll explain everything later. Go, Garm.”
Aleja’s body ached from the uncontrolled use of her magic, but with adrenaline pushing through her, it was easy to lift a leg onto the Avisai’s stirrup and pull herself up. Bonnie finally stepped closer to the field, her rye-and-wheat crown shining gold in the setting sun. But Aleja was already urging the Avisai into the air.
She would never make it through the Astraelis realm by herself. She didn’t even know how to get through the wards. Taking Val back to the Astraelis realm, where the mutineers evidently wanted him dead, was risky, but there was no longer any chance that the Dark Saints would allow him to study the Second—and the Messenger had the Third. Perhaps he could make do.
“The palace,” she snapped to the Avisai. “As fast as you can.”
The Avisai returned a frustrated grunt, but they were in the air before Bonnie was in earshot again, banking sharply to the left. Their direction would be obvious, but Aleja wasn’t planning on lingering at home to see how long it would take for word to spread among their armies that the Dark Saint of Wrath had soured a peace deal in favor of their Astraelis prisoner.
“Faster,” she urged, as the Hiding Place blurred below them. This Avisai might be small, but this only lent it speed and maneuverability.
The palace was illuminated by the last reddish-gold streaks of sunset, turning the gothic turrets into licks of flame that reached toward the roiling clouds overhead. The sight sent a deep pang into her chest. It was the only true home she had ever really known; somewhere near Nicolas’s office, in the painting he had commissioned for his wife, Persephone’s hands and mouth were bloody red with pomegranate juice. In another room, in a painting the Knowing One had done himself, Eurydice’s face was twisted into shock and grief as her husband glanced back during their ascent from the underworld. And above it all, in a high tower that led to a dream, Aleja’s grandmother spent her eternity in the ruins of a mansion.
If Aleja had done the right thing, the palace would survive.
If Aleja had done the right thing, she might never be welcome to return to it.
“Land as close as you can and wait for me,” she told the Avisai. “Do not take off for anyone else, understand? When Garm gets here, don’t let him follow me.”
The Avisai responded with a nasal whistle, swooping toward the garden, where a cluster of rabbits digging in the soil scattered. With most of the Otherlanders stationed at the army camps along the border, the palace was nearly empty. As Aleja slipped in through the front door, she begged the building silently, Please help me find the path to the dungeons.
Aleja finally let herself think as she raced toward the long hallways with peeling wallpaper, adorned only by the occasional painting that didn’t fit elsewhere. She was grateful she had packed her backpack thoroughly before leaving for the borders; the fig and the chunk of bone she had used to communicate with Violet were still inside.
It felt as though she had taken a sharp turn at the crossroads and traveled so far in one direction that the way back was lost. For a moment, she wasn’t sure she could take another step, even though she’d found the sloping path that led to the cells below the palace, momentum pushing her forward.
Her hand shot out to grip the wall as her knees threatened to buckle. What have I done? She had been a Dark Saint for less than three weeks, but in that time, she had managed to betray the others and put the Knowing One in a nearly impossible position.
Breathe. Are you convinced you can save them or not? The words sounded so much like the woman who had once lived behind a locked door in Aleja’s mind that she pushed herself upright.
It wasn’t long before she reached the ornately carved door depicting the descent into hell, absorbing the heat as she pressed her palm against the flat spot Taddeas had pointed out to her. The roar of blood in Aleja’s ears was so loud that she could only feel the vibration of the wards opening to let her through—like the distant thump of a heavy bassline.
Val appeared to be asleep when she stumbled into the room where he was kept behind another set of shimmering wards. He was not on the bed but the floor, with his back pressed against the wall and his long legs splayed out in front of him. A tray of uneaten food lay at the edge of the wards, bathed in red light.
“Wake up,” she snapped.
Val’s mask fluttered as he scrambled to his feet. Despite his height, the frailty of his body beneath his robes was obvious. His ribs resembled a bird cage beneath the thin fabric.
“Come to execute me after all, Lady of Wrath?” he asked. Aleja could tell that he had tried to imbue his voice with the same bored flatness the Knowing One had mastered and failed. She could relate.
“No. I’m freeing you,” she said, stepping close to examine the wards. Nicolas had said her fire would open them. “Stand back.”
“Excuse me?” Val said, but there was no time to explain. She concentrated her fire into a thin stream. As if her flames were a blade, the wards peeled back; without the layer of reddish magic separating them, Val looked even paler than before.
“That should be big enough for you to get through. Come on, we have to hurry,” she said.
“I’m starting to believe something strange is going on,” Val said, tucking his mask in close so he could get through the gap. “Where is Taddeas? The last time we spoke, he expressed doubt that I would be freed before the war ended.”
“The situation has changed. You’re needed urgently to study the Second. You won’t need boots. We’ll fly there,” Aleja said, urging him forward. Though it was obvious that Val’s time in the cell had weakened him, his long stride meant he kept up with her easily, pausing only when she stopped to open the ornate door once again.
“Fly? On an Avisai? Will they accept an Astraelis passenger?”
The thought hadn’t occurred to Aleja until now. Her heart raced so quickly that it felt like the only thing keeping her body animated. “This one will.”
“And the Knowing One?” Val asked. “I’m surprised he would let me near the Second without being present himself.”
“The Knowing One is occupied. I’ll explain on the way. Just get on the damn dragon, all right?”
As they reached the palace’s front entrance, Aleja spotted Garm in the garden through the open door. His face was turned to the skies, but all that hovered above them were clouds gradually deepening into a rich violet.
“Hurry! I could hear others behind me,” Garm barked as Aleja grabbed Val’s hand and pulled him toward the Avisai.
“Behind you?” Val asked, grinding his heels into the soil. An onion was crushed beneath his weight. “What’s going on, Lady of Wrath?”
“There has been debate among the Dark Saints over whether or not we should let you speak to the Second,” Aleja told him. “Some of the soldiers are upset with the fact that I want to free you. We’ll deal with it once you’re in the safety of the mountains. Climb on.”
Val held up his bandaged arm. At least the wrappings had been recently cleaned. “I’m afraid I can’t hold on to the reigns. And your dragon seems to want to eat me.”
She glanced to her side and saw that the Avisai had drawn its face so close that her vision was filled entirely by two rows of sharp teeth.
“Back off,” she snapped. “The three of us are going for a ride. Val, climb on behind me and wrap your arms around my waist. Garm, can you follow us from the ground?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Don’t let anyone stop you.”
“I won’t,” he told her.
“If you see Nic, tell him—no. Never mind. Keep up with us.”
Aleja pulled herself into the saddle, but when she turned to offer Val a hand, there was no need. The Astraelis man was tall enough to climb onto the Avisai’s back despite his injury. She could feel his deep heartbeat as his chest pressed against her back.
“Up. Head north,” Aleja said.
“North?” Val muttered as the Avisai groaned in protest from the extra weight and was forced into a running start off the ground. “The Second’s mountain is to the west. The Astraelis have had this intelligence since the last war.”
Aleja made a show of soothing the Avisai by stroking its neck with her left hand. They were still too close to the ground. If Val decided to throw himself off the Avisai and flee, he would survive the fall.
“Lady of Wrath?” he asked, voice lower. “Where are you actually taking me? If I’m to be killed?—”
“You’re not about to be executed,” she said as the trees below them shrank to distant specks, like a dense array of needles sticking out of the ground. “If that was the case, I wouldn’t have bothered dragging you out of your cell.”
Both of Val’s arms tensed against her and Aleja realized her potentially fatal miscalculation. Even in his half-starved state, Val could easily overpower her physically. One unexpected shove could send her tumbling over the Avisai’s side. “I’m going to tell you the truth, and I’m warning you in advance that you’re not going to like it. But I need you to listen to everything I have to say before you decide to act, and remember that you and I have the same goal: to avert the Avaddon.”
“What is this? Why are we headed toward the border?—”
“The Astraelis army has been overrun by mutineers—fanatics who want the Avaddon to come to pass. Your mother is losing her grip on the command. Today, a convoy from the Astraelis demanded we execute you to weaken her, and in return, they offered us the Third and the promise of a permanent peace between our realms.”
“What good is peace if we’re all dead?” Val said sharply.
“ Exactly . But you can’t blame the Otherlanders for not trusting the Messenger. Many on my side believe that the Avaddon is a ruse meant to distract us from the war. Our librarians can find no mention of it in their books. The Second claims it’s a distraction. The other Dark Saints were prepared to…entertain the mutineers’ offer.”
“What?” Val gasped, and Aleja wondered if he was going to fall off the Avisai himself. “But you’ve explained to them, haven’t you?”
“Of course I have,” Aleja barked back. “But they don’t trust you or your mother, and the fact that no one on our side has ever heard of the myth doesn’t help.”
“You believe me?” Val asked, his breath cool against the back of Aleja’s neck.
“Yes, but I can’t take you to the Second now. I’ve betrayed the Dark Saints and a direct order from the Knowing One. He might be my husband, but he can’t let that go without weakening his command of his armies. As of right now, nowhere in the Hiding Place is safe for us.”
Aleja could feel Val’s understanding dawn on him from the way his chest expanded against her back, like he was taking a deep breath that he never managed to exhale. “ No . I will not go back there.”
“It’s our only choice. The Messenger offered to bring me to your realm once already—this is just a little ahead of schedule. I’m going to need you to get through the wards. And before you tell me you don’t know how, that’s bullshit. You entered the Hiding Place once on your own.”
“My mother’s hospitality will not be what you think it is,” Val replied sharply. “And that’s only if you manage to make it to her protection without another troop of Astraelis soldiers catching you—catching us—first. I don’t need to tell you that the Astraelis don’t generally take people like us alive.”
“We’ll worry about that if we get caught. Do you know where your mother is stationed?”
“I know where she usually?—”
“Good, then you can direct us there. Will it be safer to travel by air or land?”
“ Neither , Wrath,” Val began, but the last two letters of the word “wrath” faded into a sigh. “Land, if you must. The Thrones patrol overhead at all hours, and their eyesight is keen even in darkness.”
“Okay,” she breathed. She had hardly noticed their journey over the mountain range, but the moon was at her back, and the jagged peaks cast long shadows on the landscape. “We’ll be close to the wards now. I met your mother near here a few nights ago, so it must be relatively unguarded by Otherlanders. Do you know the area?”
“You met my mo— Never mind. Land there, by the standing stones. I will open the wards, but I will not be accompanying you beyond them. I appreciate you freeing me, but you’re a fool if you think that anything waits for you beyond the wards except for death.”
Aleja nudged her heels into the Avisai’s sides, and it began its descent, wings tucking closer to its body. “I’m sorry, Val, but I need you. My hellhound is waiting for us in the clearing. Even if you outrun him and escape into the mountains, I promise that you’ll wish you were back in our cell when you understand how unforgiving the Hiding Place can be to those who don’t belong here.”
Val was silent in response, but he finally released a long breath. A strand of hair that had fallen loose of Aleja’s braids tickled the back of her neck.
“Listen to me,” she went on as the ground sharpened into focus beneath them. “If you truly believe that the Avaddon is coming, this is our best hope. The Otherlanders will no longer help us, and the Messenger is still in control of the Third. We may die, but don’t you have anyone you care about but yourself, Val? Anyone you want to save?”
“You’ve forgotten a rather large problem. I don’t know how to avert the Avaddon, because I do not know how to get the First to appear in a corporeal form. It was why I was so desperate to study the Second. We cannot do that from the Astraelis side of the wards.”
“Can’t you study the Third?”
Val’s answer was interrupted as the Avisai landed roughly. There was a sharp pain in Aleja’s tailbone that traveled to the base of her skull. Val’s arms tightened around her, which did nothing to relieve the ache. When he spoke again, it was with a breathless rasp. “I have been under the impression that the Third will take even less kindly to being studied than the Second.”
Val slid off the Avisai’s back with more grace than Aleja. Behind them rose the mountain range where the Second slept beneath his mountain, and ahead were the shimmering wards that separated their land from that of the Astraelis.
Aleja had to briefly lean against the Avisai to stop herself from crumpling. Where is Nicolas now ? she wondered. Bonnie would know Aleja was headed toward the palace. Had the other Dark Saints already discovered that she had freed Val and fled? One of her hands flew to her chest, tightening into a fist, as if she could beat her racing heart into submission.
“Maybe we can sneak back here to study the Second. It’s possible that…” Val said, when she did not answer him. His sentence trailed off at the sight of Garm, who had appeared on the ridge and loomed over them, eyes blazing.
Val hadn’t tried to run, Aleja noted. “Say it,” she whispered.
“If my mother believed she could transport the Third into your realm in order to kill the Second, then she must have some method for getting him here.”
“Her method was me ,” Aleja admitted. “I was going to let them in.”
Val’s mask wrapped tightly around his head. The frayed feathers from the wing that had been torn off were dirty with grime and sweat, splotches of gray marring the soft pastel blues. “This puts a damper on things.”
“We’ll figure it out. For now, we need to go where we won’t be followed,” Aleja said, glancing back to what of the mountains she could see beyond Garm’s body as he jumped from rock to rock to meet them on the ground.
Garm nudged her side. The sulfur-stink of his breath grounded her, but the Avisai’s tail thumped against the ground at his presence. “We should move quickly. There was shouting as I passed close to the army camp. Something is happening.”
She could not scratch behind his ears while he wore his helmet, so she settled for under his chin. “You didn’t try to escape,” Aleja said, without looking back at Val.
“Well, it seems I have no choice, do I?” Val said with a huff.
Aleja returned to the Avisai but hesitated before patting it on the rump. She had no idea whether they enjoyed being touched, but when she dropped her hand against its leathery skin, she could feel its muscles shift as it gave a pleased trill. “I don’t know if I’ll see you again but thank you. You should fly back now and quickly. In the chaos, they might not realize you’ve been gone.”
One of the Avisai’s wings brushed against Aleja as it moved to take off. It was the sole goodbye she received before the dragon rose silently and quickly disappeared—black leather skin against a black sky. When she looked back at Val, he was already examining the wards, bent at the waist with his nose nearly touching the shimmering magic.
“Your mages have been improving your defenses,” Val said flatly.
Aleja did not want to admit that she knew nothing about this; it seemed like the sort of the thing a High General in waiting should have been aware of. “It’s war time. What do you expect?”
“Luckily, I have studied Otherlander magic extensively,” Val said.
“Less talk, more opening the wards. They’re probably already searching for us.”
“Oh, the wards are open. It was a pleasant challenge. If you’re so eager to meet your death, then by all means, lead us. At this hour, there will be a regular patrol of Thrones overhead. I assume my mother has increased their range and frequency. That’s not to mention the scouting troops—Principalities like me, who’ll surely have mages among them.”
“We’ve snuck into the Astraelis realm before,” Aleja muttered, following Val through the wards with Garm trailing behind them.
The change in temperature sent goosebumps racing across Aleja’s arms. She stopped to look around as Val paused to close the gap in the wards behind them; like the Hiding Place, this part of their world consisted of small hills. The Hiding Place’s air always smelled of pine and distant incense smoke from the palace—something ancient and dense—but the Astraelis realm was filled with fresh rainfall and the creamy musk of dandelions. In the dark, the wildflowers that rose from the hill’s tall grass looked like a field of white stars. The sky was milky violet.
“We should move quickly,” Val said, his voice low. “I’m good at breaking the wards unnoticed, but if my mother has cause to fear her own army, who knows what changes she’s made to their patrols.”
“How will we find her?” Aleja asked, looking out toward the vast landscape for the silhouette of a Throne. For now, all was still.
Val hesitated, and when she turned toward him, she saw that both his cheeks were drawn in. “She has a home near here. Our old home, really. If we can make it there, I have the means to contact her.”
“You seem eager to meet with her now,” Aleja pointed out. “A few moments ago, I thought I might have to force you to march with my hellhound snapping at your heels.”
“I’m not eager to meet with her, but I can think of little else I’d rather do aside from be executed by the Otherlanders, which, if you’ll recall, is my other option.” Val paused, sighing. “My mother will offer me refuge. If you claim that she needs the Lady of Wrath for whatever plans that she means to fulfill, then it’s unlikely she will kill you right away.”