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Chapter Thirty-Three

VICTOR

Aches and pains woke me from an unnatural sleep. The metallic burn of blood and smoke invaded my nostrils. Splintered boards rest on top of me, pinning me beneath their scorched weight.

“Bloody hell.” I’d been buried alive.

Memories returned. I’d chased Runa into the burning lodge when part of the wall had fallen on me. Apparently, the chit had left me for dead, consumed with rescuing her precious Yaga. This was the thanks I got for trying to play hero.

Sunlight shone through a crack in the rubble. I struggled to gather my arms beneath me, dragging my weight forward. Pain erupted in my thigh.

“Argh!” I bellowed. Spots swam in my vision. I let my head drop, panting. I trailed my hand down, discovering a piece of debris jutting from my flesh. Just what I needed.

“Hello?” said a squeaky voice. “Is someone there?”

At least it didn’t sound like a soldier.

“Here,” I grunted. “I’m stuck. ”

“Hold on.” Footsteps crunched, and the board above me vanished.

For a moment, the sudden light seared my eyeballs, and I flinched, drawing the person in front of me into focus.

A child? The boy’s unruly stock of bright orange hair glowed red in the sunlight. It was the youth from the celebration last night.

“Great. It’s you,” I said, failing to convey any sort of joy. “Do you think you can get me out of here?”

The child eyed my situation and bit his lip. “I will try.”

“Good chap.”

Grunting sounded, and the board resting on my back grew lighter.

“Little more,” he said. “Almost there.”

Wood cracked, jostling my leg, and I dug my nails into my palms to prevent myself from screaming.

“There. That should do it.”

Finally, I managed to crawl out of the wreckage. Once free, I sat on the ground and examined my injured limb. Sticking out of my thigh was a jagged length of timber.

“Outstanding,” I groaned.

The child hunkered down beside me, gesturing to the injury. “You want me to—”

“No,” I was quick to say. “I’ll do it.”

The massive splinter taunted me. This was going to hurt. I hesitated.

“I don’t mind,” the kid offered again.

“I said, I’ve got it.” I gripped the end of the wooden stake. Three short breaths and I yanked. Blood spurted, my flesh tearing.

Agony blazed over my senses. I threw back my head, cursing at the heavens.

Breathing deeply, I opened my eyes to find the boy. Stunned expression on his freckled face, he stared at me .

“What?” I snarled.

“I never heard some of those words.”

I glared at him. “Your parents never swear?”

His brows drew tight. “I don’t have parents. Some of my children swear, though.”

Perhaps it was the blood loss. “Did you say children?”

“Your face looks better now.”

“My face?” Strange child. “The woman I was with yesterday. Have you seen her?” Flark, except he wouldn’t recognize her without her glamour activated.

“Yes,” he said, despite my concerns. “Runa was taken by the dark ones.”

Then she lived. Relief flooded me until I replayed his words. “You know her name?”

“Of course. She is Runa Starborn, and you are Victor Custodis.”

“How do you know this?”

He frowned, tawny brows tenting with displeasure. “Yaga said you were searching for me and that I should help you, even though sometimes you’re not very nice.”

“You’re…”

“Milton, the temple guardian.” His frown deepened. “I attempted to tell you yesterday, but you were not ready.”

“Your name is Milton?”

“Yes. Milton the wise. Milton the eternal. Milton the all-knowing. I go by many names.”

This was the all-powerful guardian? The goddess Hathor’s right-hand man? How…underwhelming.

I scanned the remains of the lodge. Little remained standing but for the stone chimney.

“What of Yaga?” I felt obliged to ask.

“Hathor’s priestess fulfilled her duty and journeyed to her next assignment. ”

Priestess? The scrappy old woman was a divine priestess? Something to process another day. “She’s alive then?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” he huffed. “As Hathor’s ambassador, like me, she is undying. Before Yaga left, she asked me to give you a message. She said to tell Hot Britches it’s past time”—he cleared his throat, cheeks reddening—“you pulled your head out of your fine ass.”

I heaved a sigh. She was most definitely alive. “And Runa? What shape was she in when she was captured?”

“Her light was dim.”

My chest tightened. I eyed the gash in my flesh, finding it had stopped bleeding. Already, the wound had improved, healing faster than it would have in the mortal realm. One of the benefits of my divine heritage, I supposed.

I took in my surroundings. Half the buildings still smoldered. Bodies lined the sidewalks. Injured civilians, some with bandages on various extremities, wandered the streets, calling out the names of loved ones. Smashed tents and torn banners fluttered in a somber breeze.

Where yesterday, there’d been celebrating and merriment, today there was death and destruction.

It was a scene I wasn’t unfamiliar with.

When a new king rose to power, there were often those who fell in their wake.

Still, the sight of this small town troubled me.

Made me feel instead of leaving me with a cold sense of detachment I’d grown accustomed to. The most prominent feeling was rage .

Amberdale had been a beautiful, thriving village filled with many bright souls. For a short time, I was blessed to walk among them. To be “nobody” with them. And dammit, I’d enjoyed myself. Curse Runa and her plan to woo me, for she’d succeeded. What Idris had done to these people was sacrilege.

At my silence, the guardian put a hand on my shoulder. “I will take you to the Empyrean temple now.”

“Now? I can’t go now! Not with Runa in the hands of— ”

“Yaga tried to warn you,” Milton’s tone snapped with censure. His eyes glowed with an eerie golden fire. “She told you that if power is all you want, then power is all you will have.”

I raked my hands through my hair, snarling, “What does that mean? That I must choose? Rescue Runa or reclaim my birthright? Does that mean if I delay saving Runa, she will die?”

The child shrugged. “I am not a seer like Yaga. Only a guide. You must choose your own path.”

“Argh!” My frustration emerged as a roar. “Flarking celestial nonsense!”

I staggered to my feet, glaring in the direction of Slyborn Castle.

How dare Idris take what was mine? Rage pounded between my temples.

If he harmed one hair on Runa’s head, I’d find a way to make him pay tenfold.

Every moment she was in his hands was a moment too long.

Everything within me demanded I storm the castle and tear her from his clutches.

“Hathor will not permit me to appear to you again. This is your only chance. It’s a long and difficult journey. We should get started.”

For the first time since I could remember, my conscience battled with my goals. The thought of Runa alone with Idris for even one minute threatened to send me charging straight for the castle.

Once more, I gazed at the destruction that surrounded me. These civilians had been powerless. It was a reminder. A male without power was vulnerable. I struggled to temper my fury. This wasn’t a time to allow my emotions to get the better of me.

I couldn’t very well go up against Idris and his army in my current state. It would be best to face him on equal ground. First, I’d recharge. Then, I’d retrieve Runa. I had faith she could handle herself until I arrived.

Faith .

If only Runa could see me now .

Turned out, I did believe in something other than myself.

I believed in her .

“I’ll need a horse and supplies,” I growled.

“A horse cannot travel where we journey. You must go on foot. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

Cursed mystical deities. Cursed prophesies.

I stabbed my hands into the pockets of my tunic to keep them from circling the guardian’s scrawny throat.

My fingers grazed something, and I extracted the tiny wood carving of a dragon.

The trophy Runa had won in the dart game.

When she gifted it to me, she claimed it reminded her of my proverbial fall from grace during the trials.

If she only knew how far I’d truly fallen that day.

My head swam, and my injured leg throbbed with a pulse, wobbling beneath me.

“Lead on,” I ordered, and the mysterious child took my hand.