Page 36

The room wasn’t what I expected. For a God’s private sanctuary, it was shockingly normal.

Thick, rumpled obsidian sheets covered the massive, round bed, as though Hyrax had just risen from it.

Weapons lined the wall—daggers, swords, maces—all perfectly displayed, except for the gap where his Bident should have been.

I felt the empty spot with my fingers, a stark reminder that Hyrax’s greatest weapon remained locked in the Mortal Realm.

Near the hearth, faint embers cast a reddish glow over two upholstered chairs and a small table. A half-finished game of chess sat between them, frozen mid-battle. The strange domesticity of it unnerved me. This wasn’t the chamber of a monster—it was a place of quiet, perhaps even rest.

“You’re not looking,” Caldrius snapped, dragging me from my thoughts.

I shot him a glare but turned my attention to the vanity, where jars, scrolls, and oils sat scattered. “Where is Pasnia?” I asked, though I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Caldrius stilled. The tension in his shoulders was immediate, and when I turned, I saw the flicker of something troubled in his expression. “Her highness is preparing for the Eternal Slumber.”

I froze. “What does that mean?”

“She’s dying,” he said simply, his voice quieter than before.

“How?”

“She’s been ill for some time. Not even Gods can live forever. Keep looking.”

The weight of those words settled deep in my chest. Gods could die. The Eternal Slumber wasn’t just some poetic phrase—it was death. And if Pasnia, the Goddess of Madness, could die, then Hyrax could, too.

“What will happen when she… slumbers?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me as he sifted through the contents of the chest. “Someone new will rise. Her vessel may fade, but her power will find a new host. That’s how it works.”

It didn’t make sense. “How do you know all of this?”

Caldrius paused, his tone tight. “The Book of the Gods explains it. Or so the legends say.”

“The Book of the Gods?” I repeated, frowning. “What is that?”

He glanced at me like I’d just asked something ridiculous. “It’s an ancient spell book. Written by the Gods themselves. It’s said to contain the spell that raised the Veil. When they raised the Veil though, the book vanished into the Mortal Realm somewhere.”

I blinked, trying to process it. “There’s still so much I don’t know.”

Caldrius’ movements slowed, his fingers skimming over something deep inside the chest, his entire frame going still.

My pulse spiked. “What?”

A beat of silence. Then, excitedly—“Got it!”

He lifted the bangle, the iron etchings gleaming faintly in the dim firelight.

I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat. “Be quiet!” I hissed.

He smirked unapologetically, stepping toward me with his find—a thick iron-clasped bracelet. The etchings across its surface glimmered faintly, humming with power as he placed it in my outstretched hand.

“One invisibility bangle,” he said. “Courtesy of Hyrax.”

I turned it over in my palm, the weight of it heavier than I’d expected. It was a weapon fashioned by a God, one that hadn’t been good enough for Hyrax to value. I wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating its usefulness though. I smiled, pleased to see the same satisfaction on Caldrius’ face.

“How do you plan to get it out of here?” Caldrius asked, his expression turning serious.

I swallowed, the moment I’d been dreading finally upon me. Time to reveal another secret I’d been holding too close. “Can I trust you?” I asked softly.

His expression didn’t waver. Instead, he closed the space between us, his voice dropping lower. Quieter. More certain.

“I will never harm you, Theadora.” His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering.“You can trust that.”

It was a vow—one that felt far heavier than I’d expected. A knot tightened in my chest, but I forced it aside. “Then watch,” I said, lifting the bangle in my hand. “I’m going to open a door to the Mortal Realm.”

Caldrius’ brows shot up, but he said nothing. Instead, he simply stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest, and did as he was told. He watched.

I closed my eyes, centering my focus on the golden thread I’d seen so many times before.

The power inside me stirred, crackling through my veins like lightning.

I focused on the pull, on the image of the portal—small but strong.

The magic built and built until, with a sharp exhale, it burst outward with a rush of release.

When I blinked my eyes open, I saw it. A golden thread shimmered in the air before us, small but bright.

“Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like that before,” Caldrius murmured, his tone tinged with wonder. “You are full of surprises.”

“Is that a compliment?” I teased, though my focus remained fixed on the thread.

“Always,” he said, the words quieter than before.

I held the bangle up to the thread, my breath catching as I tossed it through. It vanished instantly, disappearing into the Mortal Realm. I could only hope it had landed where I intended—on my bed in the palace.

Caldrius circled the golden thread, his eyes narrowed as he inspected it. “What now?”

“Now,” I said, letting my shoulders slump with exhaustion, “I wake up and go save the person who tried to kill me.”

He snorted softly. “You know, you have a strange way of living, Theadora.”

I glanced at him and shrugged. “You’re one to talk.”

For the first time since we’d stepped into the castle, Caldrius laughed. It was short and low, but real. And as the golden thread faded into nothingness, I realized that, for now at least, we were both in this together.