Page 73 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

The runes for the Old Gods were spread across the land, as if they had …

Places of worship.

Conquerors write the history of their conquest. Gideon’s words came back to mock me.

‘Montagor was seeking something in fey ruins.’ William’s words penetrated my slowly building panic.

That was what Callen had said. What if mortals had learnt something from fey after all? A way to hide the past. A way to bury what they didn’t wish their followers to see.

Why the Councils and the mad kings of old had buried their predecessors’ failures.

I moved the papers aside, flicking through them like a madwoman until the map of Elysior fell open next to the page in the book.

Every fey settlement with its sacred ruins was exactly where the Old Gods’ runes were written in the book.

The fey had hidden them – or maybe the Kysillians themselves. Because what was the best way to defeat an enemy? By taking away the power of their story. By making them little more than a myth. It was why the fey settlements had always been affected first by breaches.

That darkness wasn’t seeking them out. The fey were just the first beings to cross their path.

I turned to the fiend. Orin . Now rubbing itself against an unbothered Thean’s leg.

‘We need to find the other pieces,’ I demanded. The relics that would lead Montagor to the same conclusion.

The gobrite turned as if understanding me, barking as if in agreement.

I remembered so vividly the fear in that darkness, as if it knew it didn’t stand a chance. It was sentient. Wild and cruel, but that was what it had been forced to be.

The gobrite had been forced into that book. Forced into it for a reason. Corrupted against its will.

I looked at the creature now, how it had manipulated itself to appear as something we would accept.

‘Dark magic can find its way home,’ I barely whispered. A fiend that houses part of a relic could find others. Just as Alma had been able to track the scent of that blood seeker she’d become.

‘You cannot seriously be considering trusting that thing?’ Alma hissed, slipping around the desk, her hands curling into fists, resisting the urge to shake some sense into me.

‘I think she’s beyond merely considering it, love,’ Thean added unhelpfully.

‘You stay out of this,’ Alma sneered with a flash of fangs at the voyav, sharp enough to make William wince before her annoyed serpent-like gaze met my own. ‘Have you lost your mind? It tried to kill you last time.’

‘I’m sure Orin didn’t mean it,’ William offered.

‘Stop giving it a name,’ Alma snapped with frustration before turning her irritation on Thean with a sharp pointed finger. ‘ You . Talk some sense into the pair of them.’

‘I thought you wanted me to stay out of it?’ The voyav smirked.

‘Thean!’ Their name came between her lips in a growl and I ignored how they seemed to luxuriate in the sound of it.

‘Worry not, darling, the little beast is terrified of Emrys and considering our foolish Kysillian is covered in his scent … I guarantee the little creature will be on its best behaviour,’ Thean continued in a teasing tone. Clearly ignoring my mortification at the statement.

‘ Barlov ,’ Thean commanded. The gobrite’s hound head twitched. Then it jumped up against the table to where the maps rested, tugging them down to the floor before it rooted through the mess with its snout.

Alma came closer, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her as she leant over my shoulder to see the map. The gobrite’s shadowy paw pressed against one spot.

‘It could be leading us into a trap,’ Alma hissed quietly, as if cautious the creature could hear her.

‘Dark magic does have a better respect for being bested,’ Thean observed. ‘That’s how most ancient dark creatures amass such power.’

‘Why Montagor is so set on taking Emrys off the board.’ William swallowed loudly, seeming very pale at the thought.

An Old God can only be slain with their blade. That was why Montagor was after one. Of course . It was why the Kysillians had seen Verr as nothing but brutes. They didn’t share the power of their blood.

Thean shooed the creature off the paper with a flick of his bejewelled fingers.

‘It’s our lucky day.’ The voyav shrugged, yet their face remained pensive. ‘It’s in a brothel.’

‘What?! Why on earth would it be in there?’ Alma recoiled.

‘Not in. Under,’ Thean continued their explanation, hands braced on their hips. ‘Lord Barton decimated the fey ruins on his land three centuries ago to build his house.’

‘The Barton lands are lawless. Like the bone markets.’ They continued. ‘The patrons got bored of paying the lord’s prices so strung him up in the street and continued their frivolities.’

‘You seem to know a lot about this establishment ,’ Alma added a tad too sharply, making a sly smile slip across the voyav’s lips.

‘There was a story about how Lord Barton went mad after he trapped an ancient creature within the walls of his house. Or so the tales say.’

Thean turned their attention to the other mark on the map, set in the middle of a smaller village. ‘It’s very occupied and they won’t take kindly to intruders.’

I glanced at the window. ‘It’s barely morning.’

Thean just gave me a bored pointed look that made me flush. Of course. People did have sex in daylight.

‘Hang on, if something is beneath that house—’ William ran his fingers through his curls. ‘Why is it just sitting there?’

‘It will have a very strong spell on it. One created around the same time as the compendiums. One by the same bloodlines,’ Thean offered, folding their arms. Just as old as the book.

A book I could open. I looked down at my bloody palm, so maybe I could break that concealing enchantment too.

‘Then we’ll find out,’ Alma answered, startling me with her sudden determination and change of heart.

I noticed she startled Thean too. ‘If we’ve figured this out, Montagor won’t be far behind.

He already has a relic and is crazed enough to attack rebel territory.

It won’t be long until it guides him here. ’

William looked as if he might be sick. So I focused on the voyav instead, who hadn’t offered any objection to the plan.

‘I doubt the clientele are used to Kysillians. Especially one as wanted as our darling Kat.’ Thean’s voice sounded hard with displeasure.

‘I’ll wear a glamour. It should last long enough,’ I shrugged. It wouldn’t be that hard. Nobody would look too closely at a female in a brothel. Or be sober enough to care.

‘I’m sure your dark prince will love this,’ the voyav warned.

‘Surely we should run this by Emrys? Let me get Gideon’s speaking crystal!’ William darted for the drawer of Gideon’s desk. Orin barked as if to hurry him as he rummaged like a desperate thief.

Producing a black speaking crystal wrapped in enchanted parchment and tied with salt-soaked string. The boy frantically tapped the large crystal on the desk’s edge. ‘Come on. Come on.’

But it remained dim, the runes carved into the stone not glowing. Silent.

They couldn’t answer and we couldn’t waste time waiting.

William looked stricken. ‘I think we need to reconsider this plan. I doubt we need Emrys’s wrath chasing us through the streets because Thean made Kat get her breasts out.’

‘My breasts will not be out,’ I countered sharply.

‘Don’t speak too soon, darling.’ Thean’s grin became almost feline. The dark fiend hound barked excitedly at his side and I couldn’t help wonder if the bastard was, in fact, leading us to our demise.