Page 9 of No Greater Sorrow (Our Lady of Fire #2)

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THE ANCIENT ONES

“Imposing human morality on the Otherlanders would be unwise. While humans associate them with symbols of evil—particularly serpents—it is more accurate to say that the Otherlanders simply follow a different moral code than the one we are accustomed to. For them, the ends are much more likely to justify the means.”

—Excerpt from Ten Myths of the Otherlanders by Emiel Nasir.

“Here we go. Trial two,” Violet said, adjusting her backpack. This morning she looked decidedly better than Aleja, having taken advantage of the healer’s tonics one last time.

Aleja had woken before dawn to sneak away before the night watch returned to their beds, after having spent a second night getting kicked in the stomach by Garm’s hind legs as he dreamed. At least Bonnie had brought them a tray of tiny fennel sausages and hard-boiled eggs speckled with pink sea salt. After kissing them both on the top of the head, she’d whispered “My second Trial was the worst. Be safe.”

This time, Nicolas accompanied them to the cave mouth, flying by their side as she and Violet rode the Avisai.

“The Avisai will signal for me when you return,” he told them. “Stay sharp, stay careful. The second Trial will be nothing like the first—they never are.”

“See you soon, Nic,” Aleja said, wishing she could step forward and hug him. But she was beginning to understand why Nicolas had kept his distance during her early days in the Hiding Place. The sight of him made something inside her crack, like everything beneath her skin was made of glass.

Aleja’s glove was tight around her swollen hand. She hadn’t wanted to wrap her wrist this morning, lest the Second see she was injured, but Violet had arrived at breakfast with a vial of anti-inflammatory herbs from the healer’s tent. Aleja’s wrist still ached like hell, but she’d tested her magic this morning. She had no problem conjuring her fire, but she’d have to improvise if the Trial involved any sort of climbing.

“Why didn’t you tell me you still had the Astraelis in your head?” Aleja whispered. Her echo bounced around the cavern, along with the click of Garm’s nails. She’d decided the awkwardness of asking was better than dying not knowing why her friend—why everyone —seemed to be lying to her.

They reached the hallway with the statues of satyrs playing pan-flutes, their hooved feet kicking in the air. Violet stopped walking and turned to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Just tell me the truth.”

“At first, I thought the voice would go away on its own. Once I realized it wasn’t fading, it had been too long. I knew you would be furious with me for not saying anything, and I’d already lied to you so much… It was stupid, to try to right that wrong by lying to you again. I am sorry, Al. That’s the last of my secrets, I promise. Once we’re both Dark Saints, you can shoot your fire at me and get all the anger out of your system.”

Aleja didn’t know what to say. Maybe this was her fault. Violet had been her first real friend, and Aleja had grown up cloistered in her family’s estate, missing all the rituals of girlhood. Maybe this was normal. Maybe she should be quicker to forgive. After all, they’d both lived childhoods shadowed by the specter of death—Violet, her cancer, and Aleja, her family’s bargain with the Knowing One. And both had recently been through trauma few could relate to.

“It’s fine,” Aleja finally said, “Let’s not talk about it anymore. Come on.”

“Wait. That’s all you have to say?” Violet called, as Aleja stepped around her and approached the Second’s chamber.

“Yes. We’re about to start another Trial. I don’t want to be distracted.”

“Don’t you want to clear the air before we go in there?”

Of course, Aleja did. She wanted to fix things with Violet. Fuck, she wanted to fix things with Nicolas, even if she was furious with him. She wanted the Trials to be over. She wanted this stupid war to end before it started.

Garm glared at them. “Don’t argue so close to the Second’s chambers. Show strength. Show unification. You’re soon-to-be Dark Saints. Act like it.”

Violet threw her hands up and pressed on. The Second’s chamber was lit in red as usual, but this time, there were two pedestals in front of the pool. Atop each was a folded piece of paper beneath a chunk of lava rock.

They waited, but the only sound was water sloshing against the pool’s edge.

“Maybe we should read the notes,” Violet said after a long moment.

Aleja shrugged, choosing the one on the left. She nearly read the message out loud, but the first line stopped her.

This note is for you alone, Alejandra Ruiz, past and future Dark Saint of Wrath. Your next challenge will take you into the past once more, but not your own. Return what has been lost to the First, the Second, and the Third, but beware—all three must be made whole quickly or danger awaits. Whoever places the glass heart where it belongs may continue to a special reward. Do not communicate your aim to anyone but your hellhound or fail the Trial.

As she finished reading, the stone door rolled open. Violet folded her own note and tucked it into her jacket’s interior pocket. She furrowed her brow as she met Aleja’s eyes, but they walked in silence until Violet uncorked her vial of water and took a sip. When she was done, there was just enough water left for one more swallow.

The hall again opened to the outside, but this landscape was distinctly different from the jagged mountains of the last Trial. Bright sunlight burned Aleja’s face, jarring after the coolness of the cave. It was noon or close to it; the rolling hills were lush with verdant green ferns that framed a massive fig tree a quarter mile away.

“This is the Astraelis realm. I could see it through the Authority’s eyes,” Violet muttered.

Garm pressed closer against Aleja’s leg, but the valley and hills looked empty, aside from a few chittering bluebirds that startled out of the grass at the sight of a dog. Nothing stopped them as they wordlessly headed toward the tree, the only landmark so far.

“Smell anything, Garm?” Aleja said.

“Just plants. It feels like spring here. I recognize this place too.”

“You’ve been to the Astraelis realm?” Violet asked him.

“No, but it was in the stories Nicolas told me when I was a puppy. This is the First Tree. Not literally, I think. Mythologically .”

Very helpful, Garm , said her voice.

Shh. Don’t be sarcastic around my puppy. He can sense it , Aleja shot back.

“It’s a bit like the Second’s cave,” Garm continued, “Every time a new Messenger is chosen, they come to the First Tree and eat one of its figs. That’s how they absorb the First’s gifts.”

“The Astraelis have no problem eating from the tree of knowledge when it’s them to do it,” Aleja muttered.

The fig tree was a lovely thing—ancient, with branches sprawling to all sides, full of plump fruits hanging heavy enough to fall in a light breeze. Sugary sweetness filled the air, but nothing about the scent was appetizing. It was all too contrived, too perfect, like a witch’s gingerbread house in a fairy tale.

“Do you think we’re supposed to eat one? This is probably a bad time to mention that I really hate figs,” Violet said.

“No, that can’t be it.” Aleja tried to think, but before she could suggest it, Violet was already scrambling up the tree.

“There’s something in the distance. I think they're statues,” Violet said, pulling herself up enough to stick her head over the canopy of leaves. She still wore the dirty hiking boots that’d been on her feet when Aleja and Nicolas found her, awaiting death at the hands of a being trapped in an Unholy Well.

“Statues?” Aleja ran her thumb along the ridge of the folded note in her pocket. The first Trial had been awful, but something told her she would be wishing she was merely facing a version of herself before this day was over.

Violet dropped to the ground with a soft plop. With the Second’s well water flowing through her veins, she moved more like her old self—confident and easy, despite the heavy armor on her torso. “I think we should take some of these figs with us. It might be a puzzle.”

“What makes you say that?” Aleja asked.

“Haven’t you ever played a video game?”

“I don’t think the Second is basing these Trials on…” Aleja struggled to think of a title, but for all the opulence at the Miami estate, her aunts and uncles had never allowed gaming consoles—not when they had chess and fencing to practice. “When were you ever a gamer, anyway?”

“I was on chemo for years as a kid, Al. I had a lot of time on my hands. Help me out with this.” Violet motioned for Aleja to pluck the figs on the lower branches. Together, they gathered as many as they could hold. The figs were large and soft enough to feel like organs—like hearts —in Aleja’s arms. Again, she was hit with a sense of unease.

Violet was right about the statues. Garm gave a low huff as the three of them stepped into their massive shadows. Aleja had never seen the ruins of Greek and Roman colossal statues in person, but she imagined this is what they must have looked like when they were new—towering over ancient cities like the gods they depicted.

All three were carved from a different colored marble. At the center, in rich brown stone with flecks of gold, was what she assumed to be the First. The woman’s body was full, with large breasts and a rounded stomach, reminding Aleja of a different sort of statue—prehistoric Venus figurines, so old their true meaning was unknown. Though the First’s facial features had worn away over time, Aleja spotted the curve of a gentle smile. It was an expression Aleja returned until she noticed the hole in the woman’s chest. It was the same size and shape as the glass heart in her satchel.

Her mouth went dry, but she forced herself to look at the others. To the First’s left was the Second, depicted in red marble as the winged man Aleja saw throughout the rooms of the palace. A broken crown lay at his feet, and he leaned forward with an empty hand outstretched to the viewer in offering. The figs would fit perfectly.

The final statue was jet black and gleaming, with a blindfold wrapped over its face. Nothing else was visible of the man’s body, aside from the bare feet poking out from the bottom of his robes. And there was something odd about those robes that wasn’t just decay from wind and rain. They were scratched . Hundreds of small eyes peered out from the marble folds.

“Are you totally geeking out right now?” Violet asked.

“I think you were right about the figs but let me enjoy this for a moment before something goes horribly wrong. Wait, there’s an engraving on the base of the First,” Aleja said and read aloud, “‘Without a heart, I sleep. With a heart, I weep.’”

Aleja barely got the sentence out before Violet was scrambling up the Second’s statue. In a moment, his hand was full of plump fruit and Garm gave a yip of victory. Aleja wondered if she should mention that she had the First’s heart in her satchel already, but Violet spoke first.

“I have a confession to make. I already have the piece missing from the Third.”

She wouldn’t offer that information if we weren’t working together, right ? Aleja asked her inner voice.

We’ll find out .

Violet swung her backpack to the front of her body and fished out an indigo-colored stone in the shape of an eye. “I had to take it from the Authority in the first Trial. That’s why it was chasing me when you found us,” she explained.

Why didn’t she tell you that until now ? Aleja’s voice asked.

It’s not like she knows about my heart , she shot back.

Again, Violet climbed, this time up the Third’s statue, to an eye-shaped hole among the scratches in his robe. As she dropped back to the ground with a grunt, Aleja thanked the gods that she was in this Trial with someone athletic. Her wrist still throbbed.

“This seems far too easy. Where do you think we can find the last piece?”

“I… already have it,” Aleja said, hardly hearing herself over her inner voice’s admonishment. Garm too must have sensed her sudden hesitation. From the corner of her eye, she caught the way his tail stopped moving.

“That’s great. I can put it up there,” Violet said shakily.

Something cold moved through Aleja. She stared at Violet’s face, searching for anything behind the tentative expression of hope, as if she’d truly started to believe the Second might let them off easy this time.

“I’ll do it,” Aleja said, remembering her instructions. Whoever places the glass heart where it belongs may continue to a special reward.

“Are you sure? Your wrist is still messed up, and the last time I watched you try to climb something you slid off with all of your limbs stuck out at once.”

Aleja swallowed, again searching Violet’s eyes. Violet had spent months lying to Aleja before she’d disappeared, and Aleja hadn’t suspected a thing until she found a scrying mirror containing a hellhound that knew Violet’s name.

Her tongue grazed her incisors as she struggled to formulate an answer. Violet offered to make the climb again, but the sound was distant over the roar of anger between Aleja’s ears. Anger that came from both Aleja and the older, deeper parts of herself. Anger at the Second.

Of fucking course, he would do this to them.

“Aleja, give me the heart. You want to get out of here as much as I do, don’t you?” Violet said softly.

“I’m sorry, Vi. I can’t do that.”

Garm clicked his teeth in warning, and Violet’s eyes shot to him. Aleja couldn’t tell if her wide-eyed confusion was genuine or another careful facade. For one horrible moment, Aleja’s leg muscles tensed as if Violet was about to attack her. If it were anyone else, it would have been suicide to lunge at someone who could effortlessly summon fire from her hands, but perhaps Violet knew that Aleja wouldn’t try to burn her—even in the face of betrayal.

“Listen, I need to be the one to—” Violet began. Her gaze returned to Aleja, but she held her left arm slightly away from her body, as if she’d be able to fend Garm off should he lunge.

“ Don’t ,” Aleja snapped. “If you speak about the Trial, we fail.”

“I don’t want to have to do this, Al. Please give me the heart.”

Aleja opened her mouth, ready to tell Violet to shut up and let them figure this out another way, but a blow came low, hard, and unexpected. It was Garm, driving into Aleja’s back. She stumbled, the glass heart flying from her hands. Even with the shock of pain, Aleja was overwhelmed with a single thought: Violet hadn’t been pleading with her. She’d been distracting Aleja, and Garm too.

“Shit,” Aleja spat, catching a glimpse of what had forced Garm into motion. The Second’s statue shattered, and the creature that’d burst forth from it was easily recognizable in her peripheral vision.

An Avisai.

Garm was moving before Aleja could command him. When he pounced on the dragon, he was no longer in the form of a young Doberman. She hadn’t seen him like this since the first night they’d met—a fully grown hellhound with blazing eyes. The Avisai screamed as Garm collided with its torso.

The heart. Aleja had to get the heart.

Violet dove for it too.

Aleja let out a spit of flame, forcing Violet to the side. It bought Aleja enough time to close the distance between them and snatch the heart for herself, but Violet was on her in an instant.

The glass was heated from the fire; it must have burned Violet’s hands, but she struggled against Aleja with surprising force. With the Second’s well water in her veins, Violet was the physically stronger of the two of them.

“You have to let me—” Violet groaned, as she attempted to wrench the heart away.

Aleja’s palms heated again, and she tried to channel the temperature into the glass. The magic didn’t hurt Aleja, but Violet…

“Fuck,” she hissed, forced to draw her hands back.

The first Avisai—kept at bay by Garm—was no longer their only problem. The Third’s statue creaked to life with jerky twitches. As it burst open, another dragon shook its way out of the marble like a hatchling from an egg. Except this hatchling was fully grown and steady on its legs, both of which were tipped with vicious claws. Garm might be able to hold one off, but not two. The second Avisai took to the sky, but Aleja knew it wouldn’t remain there for long.

It was such a distraction that she didn’t have the chance to flinch when Violet punched her in the face. A yelp left Aleja as her nose erupted with blood, but she couldn’t stop moving, not when Violet had the heart. This time, Aleja didn’t hold back with her flames. She aimed for the ground at Violet’s side and let out a torrent that would be enough to blister her skin from the proximity alone. Violet stumbled with a gasp of pain.

Blood ran into her mouth as she tackled Violet again. “Don’t make me do it, Vi. Don’t make me hurt you .”

“You don’t understand. It has to be me,” Violet sputtered as she struggled beneath Aleja’s weight.

The second dragon swooped down on them, veering off course at the last second when Aleja sent a burst of fire in its direction.

Don’t give in , her inner self whispered. Play the game . It’s what the Second wanted .

But what game was it ? Aleja thought frantically. It couldn’t be… this betrayal. The Second would want the Dark Saints to work together. He would want them to trust each other. “Here. I’ll distract them,” she spat, pressing the glass heart against Violet’s chest.

Fool. You’re going to get yourself killed .

Violet’s face was unreadable. “Wait, Al...”

But Aleja’s mind was made up. Fire roared to life around her left hand, briefly reflected in Violet’s green eyes. Aleja aimed it at the circling dragon. Violet scrambled away with the glass heart pressed tightly against her chest as she used her free hand to pull herself up the First’s body.

Aleja heard the click of the heart locking into place. Garm hulked in her peripheral vision, but as soon as the heart was in place, both Avisai collapsed. There was a deep rumble from the First’s statue and its pedestal opened like a pair of cellar doors, revealing a roughhewn passage descending into the ground.

Garm was back at Aleja’s side in an instant, still in his hellhound form. His furious gaze was locked on Violet, who stared at the singed grass at her feet as if hoping the earth would swallow her. A small piece of paper trembled in her hands as she held it toward Aleja without making eye contact. “I’m sorry. I can explain everything,” she whispered.

“Shut up. You can’t say anything without breaking the rules, and I don’t want to hear it anyway. You did what you needed to do. Let’s just go into the fucking tunnel and get it over with.”

Gods, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry—not even when Roland’s cult watched as he dragged her and Violet to their deaths. In a sick way, she’d understood them; trapped in time, with lives extended endlessly by the well water, they had good motivation to drop a witch in every few years.

“I have to give you the paper. It’s one of my instructions,” Violet said, still unable to look Aleja in the eye. “Promise me you won’t hate me.”

Something inside Aleja softened. This was a game, and the Second had set the rules. She couldn’t fault Violet for following them any more than she could fault herself for cutting the heart out of a girl who looked like a younger version of herself. Aleja sighed as she took the paper, but when she moved to open it, Violet stopped her.

“Don’t read it yet. Wait until you come out on the other end of the tunnel.”

“Was that in the instructions too?”

“No.”

“Whatever. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

“I can’t. My Trial is over. I passed.” Violet finally looked up, but there was no hint of relief or triumph on her face. Just desperation.

Aleja knew she wouldn’t be able to speak without saying something she’d regret. She shoved Violet’s note into her pocket and turned toward the darkness. As she motioned for Garm to go in ahead of her, Aleja didn’t miss the final glare he shot Violet before lowering his head to slink into the tunnel.

“What the fuck was that?” Aleja muttered once the outside light disappeared completely. She resisted the urge to collapse against one of the walls.

Stop. The desperation will make you act rashly. What’s done is done , said her voice.

“Do you want to read the note?” Garm asked, his voice less gravelly now that he was shrinking into his dog body again.

Aleja did not, but she pulled it from her pocket all the same, gathering just enough fire at her fingertips to read by.

This note is for you alone, Violet Timmons. Speak of it and fail. In the second Trial, you must return what has been lost to the First, Second, and Third, but beware—danger awaits should the task not be completed quickly. The person who places all three pieces completes the Trial. The person who does not must go on. Choose your path carefully. The second half of the Trial is a deadly challenge, but the winner will reap a special reward. If you are the one to place the heart, share your note.

“She knew what was going to happen. She fucking knew,” Aleja muttered, more to herself than to Garm, nearly invisible aside from his eyes. She understood now why the Second had given her a heart of glass, so fragile and easily broken. Aleja should have smashed the damned thing when she had the chance.

He gave another low growl, but with less ferocity behind it now that they were cocooned in shadows. “She was afraid. But you shouldn’t be. You have me. Do you want to talk about it?” Garm asked softly.

“No, I need to concentrate.”

“The Second designed the Trial so that one of you was forced to betray the other. I’m sure she feels terrible too.”

Aleja scoffed. A second ago, Garm had looked ready to tear Violet’s throat out, but she supposed dogs forgave more easily than humans. “Not now. Do you smell anything? Hear anything?”

“There’s movement ahead.”

“Stay behind me.”

“No. I’m supposed to be your weapon, Aleja.”

They came to an opening.

The landscape beyond the tunnel was so nightmarish that Aleja felt like she was back in the dreams that’d haunted her during her first few months in the Hiding Place. Blood-drenched soil, trees with intestines strewn across their branches like macabre garlands, and circling overhead, a flock of lion-like Thrones. A cave mouth was nestled into cliffs at the valley’s opposite end.

At least, this was what she’d expected the Trials to be like. Enormous beasts swooped down on her as she evaded them, shooting plumes of fire whenever there was an opening. The heat was so intense that the sweat on her face hissed away.

Garm wove and leaped across the field in confusing patterns, and the Thrones—though frighteningly maneuverable in the air—were not as fast as a hellhound. For a moment, Garm was engulfed in a cloud of dust as one of the Thrones struck their claws out to grab him and hit the earth instead. Aleja screamed his name, attracting the attention of those still airborne, but he reappeared a second later, dashing ahead with a speed they couldn’t match.

She was the first to reach the cave mouth, but Garm was close at her heels as they came in with too much momentum. A Throne’s growl rumbled through the rocks as it forced its head through the entrance, but even if Aleja had wanted to turn around, she couldn’t. Loose pebbles slipped beneath her boots and suddenly she was sliding downhill into the darkness, with Garm a tumbling mass of limbs beside her.

Thankfully, the slope soon evened, and Aleja was able to haul herself up and cast a bit of fire to illuminate their surroundings. Garm had a bleeding gash atop his muzzle, but he limped to Aleja and licked her wrist as if he could sense the pain below her skin. The Throne’s growls were distant for now.

“Are you okay?” Garm asked.

“Yeah. Only a few scrapes. Come on. I need—I need this to be over.”

And, apparently, it was.

The hall took another turn before opening into the Second’s chamber, where the two pedestals that’d held their notes stood, one with a folded piece of paper atop it. Violet was already there, seated at the edge of the Second’s pool. She didn’t look up as Aleja approached, her face hidden behind a curtain of hair. Nor did she speak.

Aleja wanted to say something—gods, the darkest parts of her wanted to wound Violet. But every word in Aleja’s mind felt like a bomb, and if they landed, they would destroy something irreversibly. So, she kept silent, and after a few wrenching moments, the Second spoke.

YOU HAVE BOTH PASSED. THE FINAL TRIAL WILL TAKE TIME TO PREPARE. RETURN TO THIS CAVE IN A WEEK. ALEJA, THE REWARD IS YOURS.

Aleja had nearly forgotten about her special reward. She snatched it off the pillar, avoiding Violet’s gaze. The note read:

The chalice fills, the chalice drains. We are trapped inside, in chains.

“I thought I was getting a prize. What the hell does this mean?” she snapped, whirling as if she might spot the Second somewhere in the room.

There was no answer. Aleja felt like she was vibrating—that if she let out a scream, all the rocks around them would shatter.

“Come on, Saints,” Garm said, after all had stilled. “The Knowing One will be waiting for us on the mountain.”

As they walked, Aleja realized the silence between her and Violet was worse than a fight. People fought because, eventually, one of them would win and the conflict would be over. Fighting now would have been a sort of optimism. A way to get their anger out in one short spat and let it burn up quickly, like using an explosion to stop a fire. This silence, though—that meant whatever had transpired between them during the second Trial could not be so easily fixed, if it could be fixed at all. Silence was a way of giving up.

What the hell did the Second want us to get out of that? Aleja thought bitterly as they made their way toward the winged silhouette of a man near the cave mouth.

Do you want the real answer or the bullshit answer ? asked her inner voice.

If I ask for the bullshit answer, are you going to give me the real one?

Of course .

Go ahead, then. Twist the knife all you want; everyone else has.

Sometimes there are no villains, Aleja. Sometimes everyone is just trying to survive .

It felt like the bullshit answer after all, but Aleja was distracted. The swell of emotions she felt when she saw Nicolas’s face almost made her forget about the snake tattoo marking him for death on her behalf. “You did it. Congratulations. Only one more to go,” he breathed.

Neither Aleja nor Violet answered as he looked first at them, then at Garm. “Are you both all right?”

Perhaps Violet was about to say something. Aleja heard her small intake of breath and spoke before Violet had the chance. “We’re fine. We’re tired. Let’s go back to the camp.”

A black Avisai stood on the ridge, swishing its long tail against the pebbled ground. It was twilight, and the first stars were appearing. Although the constellations here had the same patterns as they did in her world, their names were strange—Sylvana, the dryad; Vaster, the raven-in-flight; and larger than the rest, stretching from one end of the winter sky to the other, Dal-Rhyn, the great serpent.

“We’ll head back to the palace,” Nicolas told them, stretching his wings as she and Violet climbed onto the Avisai’s back. “We’re having a meeting with all the Dark Saints, and it’s better to be away from the camp’s curious ears. I’d like for you to be there, Aleja. You as well, Violet. Despite what I said before, this plan involves you.”

“Did something happen?” Aleja asked; her hands tightened around the Avisai’s shadowy reigns.

“Not yet. But very soon I’m leading a small team in the Astraelis realm. We’re going to raid one of their camps and bring Merit home.”