Page 45 of Heart of Fire (Royal Ice Dragons #3)

HANNA

One second, I was in darkness. The next, a soft, feminine voice whispered in my ear. “Join me. Welcome me in.”

My eyes flew open. Suddenly, I was standing in a temple, barefoot on the marble.

It was the same temple where I had been bound to the altar, but it was still whole. Floor-to-ceiling gauzy drapes caught the breeze and rippled gently between the marble columns.

The roses that grew up the columns were sweetly scented, but I had just been choking on the suffocating scent of rose blooms as the vines dragged me down. I stiffened, my mind whirling as I tried to understand what was happening.

The goddess must be showing me the past.

And at the same time as I stood on the same dais where I had moments ago, I felt as if her presence filled the temple and extended beyond it in a warm, golden bubble. I was aware of the women who were coming up the path, carrying baskets with their gifts.

They were laughing and shouting with each other, and even when they reached the front of the temple and bowed, their genuine reverence was mixed with joy. Smiles crossed their faces as they walked together up the marble and laid gifts of flowers, wool, and weavings.

A little girl walked beside her mother, and she set a piece of purple tapestry on the altar. “My first weaving,” she said in a high, eager voice. “My first gift for the goddess.”

I felt a jolt as I remembered little Carrie, running after me in the icy street with her woven pennants, having won her mother over.

This mother, in this time, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, beaming with pride.

“This temple is our place, a place where women worship,” she said softly. “We who weave together life. Welcome, my daughter.”

The entire moment seemed soaked with beauty, from the sun shining softly through the rippling gauze to the joy lighting the faces of both mother and child.

It was seductive, which was exactly what the goddess wanted. But I wouldn’t be seduced.

“This didn’t last though, did it?” I said out loud. “And now, even though you were supposed to be the goddess of weaving, you want to tear me apart into nothing.”

Then suddenly it occurred to me, as I imagined the ruined temple superimposed over this new, glimmering version. “ You were torn apart. I barely ever heard your name, even learning about the myth. You’ve been forgotten more than any of the other gods. So, why were they trying to bring you back first? After Baelur’s god…who is Baelur’s god?”

The scene changed. It was as if the goddess were answering my question, or maybe she couldn’t stop herself from showing me her past. Maybe our minds were tangled together.

The temple now was bare; the gauzy curtains were gone. There were signs of wear, and bits of debris littered the floor, blown in by the wind.

A woman came up the steps, joyless, quick and furtive. She carried a broom in one hand, and she swept the temple clean. Then she sank to her knees in front of the stairs to the dais, collapsing across them. “Goddess, help me,” she wept, and I felt my heart wrench although I wasn’t sure if that was the goddess’s emotions or my own.

The weeping woman pulled out a bit of weaving from her pocket and smoothed it over the marble steps. Her eyes were red and swollen as if she had spent a long time weeping. “I brought you an offering. My husband doesn’t know…but we can’t lose you, we can’t lose your power.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Men like Baelur are the reason that your temple first fell into disarray. They didn’t want to pay for a goddess who served women.”

“But for a long time, their secret offerings kept some part of my power intact.” The voice came from behind me.

I turned to find the Shadow Weaver, and as I did, the woman behind me faded. This version of the Shadow Weaver was as tall as I was, with dark, sad eyes.

“Baelur has awakened the god Riel, and allowed the god to take over his form. He is the god of suffering and death, and he intends to wake the other gods to serve him. He chose me first because he thinks I am weak.” The goddess blazed. “And because of you…because of your resistance…he’s right. Stop fighting me. Let me protect our people!”

“Let me fight, let me protect my people.” I swept my arm toward a world I couldn’t see, the world of fighting beyond. “I shouldn’t be locked in my mind when they need me!”

Distantly, I heard Dare’s voice, full of heartbreak. “Come back to me, Hanna. Fight, and I’ll fight?—”

I blinked away unexpected tears. “He needs me! And I need him!”

“There are bigger stakes here than your love affair,” the Shadow Weaver said tightly. “Let me take your body! Stop fighting with me when the fight is out there !”

She wouldn’t be caught up in this argument with me if she could just force me to serve her. The realization washed over me.

I didn’t trust the gods. I had to make sure I didn’t give over control of my body to her and find myself unable to take it back. But perhaps there was a way I could fight Baelur, and she could lend me her power. Whatever power she had.

“How do we fight Baelur?” I asked.

She laughed bitterly. “Do you think we can fight Baelur together? You overestimate yourself, mortal.”

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard that a lot.” I waved off her comment and watched the goddess seethe. “Tell me what we have to do to defeat this god. Tell me where he came from and how to send him back.”

“This old god was revived by a group of worshippers…deranged worshippers,” she said, as if she were giving in.

The world shifted around me. My stomach tilted as if I were going to be sick, but then we were standing with a view of a cliffside, where Baelur stood with a few other men. Judging from their clothing, they were all nobles or at least rich, which made it interesting that they had chosen to undermine the nobility itself in order to seize all the power for their own.

Baelur’s eyes were lit with greed and mania.

The scene shifted again, and we saw Baelur bound and tortured and bleeding, near death. His eyes were the same, though, and then suddenly they blazed. I saw the god leaning above him, and Baelur screamed as the god entered him.

“So, is Baelur possessed and no longer capable of making decisions for himself?”

“No,” she said, too quickly, and I didn’t trust her for a minute.

I didn’t have time to suss out the Shadow Weaver. “You can’t possess me. But we can help each other. We both want to defeat Baelur, correct? Give me your power.”

“There is no power without your body,” she said. “I have been trapped for too long…”

“Oh, I guess you’re gonna stay trapped. But if you can find a way to help me fight Baelur, we can defeat him together, and I can have your temple restored. You can be worshipped again.”

She gave me a long skeptical look.

“If you fail to kill Baelur, and you’re not killed immediately, you have to promise to give me your body. You don’t understand what he will do to this world, to your people.”

“Done,” I said. I didn’t know how magic worked when I was…wherever I was. Locked in my own mind with the Shadow Weaver? Or were we in some place beyond the world that I could see?

As soon as I uttered the word “done,” I felt a surge of energy coursing through my body. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a torrent of power that threatened to overwhelm me. The Shadow Weaver’s essence flowed into me, a cool river of darkness that filled every fiber of my being.

For a moment, I feared I’d made a terrible mistake. The power was intoxicating, and I could feel it trying to reshape me, to mold me into a vessel for the goddess.

And for a second, I wanted to let go. To stop fighting. To let the goddess rise inside me and fix the troubles that raged around us.

For a moment, I felt I was coming unmoored.

Then, Dare’s voice, low in my ear and urgent. “We need you, Hanna. Please. I need you.”

It was as if I snapped back into my body. I let out a shaky gasp, feeling myself settle back into my body.

And my eyes opened.