Page 42 of The Cruel Dawn (Vallendor #2)

Elyn dares to smile at me.

I dare to smile back.

In my heart, we dance down that long catherite corridor of the Abbey of Mount Devour.

But we temper our joy right now because all my limbs ache, because Danar Rrivae knows that the Librum Esoterica is now at the abbey.

We hold in our joy because Jadon just killed his brother—and because Jadon is death and can also die.

Snip your string, puppet. That was the Devourer’s threat.

At least, I’m not trailing blood like I did the last time I walked this corridor. Small mercies abound.

…

The silence in the aerie feels heavy and still. Agon the Kindness stands at the narrow window, his red robes spotless and bright. He isn’t looking out upon the realm but rather reads a massive book.

“Look who’s back,” I shout.

Uncle Agon looks over his shoulder. His expression remains unreadable upon seeing Elyn and me—his only reaction is the tightening of his hands around the book.

“What’s wrong?” Elyn places Wake’s ring and the Librum Esoterica on a worktable.

“He thought we were gonna kill each other,” I say, smirking at Agon. “Admit it, Uncle. You thought only one of us would make it back to this room, huh?” I chuckle and add, “Guess what, Uncle? I can now leap a tall building in a single bound.”

Agon gives me a small shrug. “You used to be able to fly .”

My head snaps back like he’s punched me in the throat.

Why can’t this man just be nice to me?

He closes the book he holds with a snap. “And the Weapon?”

“Should be here any moment,” Elyn says, squeezing my elbow, encouraging me to keep calm and to mind my mouth. “He did as he promised. Thank you for placing your trust in me.”

I focus on taking regular breaths. Really: why couldn’t he just say, “That’s great, Kai,” or “I’m glad you’re coming back into yourself, niece”?

The door opens, and five Raqiel sentinels the size of ancient oaks march into the room, their sharp-ended staves reflecting the light.

Jadon is swaddled in a strifalite-threaded jacket that restricts his hands and cuffs that restrict his feet.

He hobbles between two guards and looks at me with dulled eyes but manages a quick, hopeful grin.

This will work. He will be freed. I will have one more ally in this fight.

Agon shuffles over to a worktable and a metal instrument producing flame. He picks up the ring with a pair of pliers and holds it over the fire until the gem sags and melts like shiny blue ice. Plop…plop … plop . The melted gem turns the flame bluer and hotter.

I whisper to Elyn, “Is that supposed to happen?”

Agon keeps the ring over that flame until only the silver band remains.

The inset that held the blue gem has uneven edges that resemble the teeth of a key .

Agon peers at the leather and jeweled cover of the Librum Esoterica , squinting closely at the purple-blue-silver jewel in the middle of the book.

He presses the ring’s empty inset against the face of that center gem.

Bright light erupts in between the stones and…

with a pop , the purple-blue-silver jewel snaps out of the book’s cover.

My eyes widen.

Jadon gasps.

Elyn whispers, “Wow.”

Agon positions the gem in the worktable’s clamps and tightens the screws.

The gem emits a high-pitched squeak—like a bolt or a wheel in need of grease. The sound pierces the room.

We all shudder.

The gem made that same sound in Fihel as lavender fire consumed it. Was it in pain? Angry? This can’t be just a jewel.

“Celedan Docci awakens,” Agon whispers, “and he knows that his end has come.”

I lean closer for a better view. I glimpse a faint silhouette no bigger than a mosquito, lost in the vibrant color.

The tiny god—Keeper of Knowledge—pulses with light, and his delicate and translucent wings flutter in rapid bursts.

The energy that emanates from him is strong and heavy.

He twists, curling in the confines of his jeweled prison.

His tiny face is a blur, and his voice a faint whisper in my ear.

“I rhuirn lud fa hasa.” I should not be here .

“I rhuirn lud fa fuiln.” I should not be bound .

I frown and reply, “I cac’ arlnmassa iya’au homo.

” I didn’t imprison you here . “You went willingly.” Celedan Docci had been eager to provide wisdom and knowledge to Syrus Wake.

For more than fifty seasons, Celedan shared with the young king all that should be known to mortals…

but then, he began telling Wake more than he should’ve.

Like all men, Wake craved more: more power, more land, more knowledge.

With his own desire to remain revered, Celedan Docci taught Wake the prayer that hastened Danar Rrivae to Vallendor.

Danar hadn’t previously read any of the Librum Esotericas on any realm he’d stolen, but this time, he read Wake’s.

That’s when he learned the secrets of breeding animals and—with the Keeper of Knowledge fueled by his own twisted ego—learned the secrets of mating with mortals to create…

I glance over at Jadon.

Syrus Wake then turned to Danar Rrivae for wisdom and power instead of Celedan Docci and the Librum Esoterica , and both god and book were tucked away in a dusty library down in Castle Wake.

The answers to the realm still exist in this ever-growing book.

Elyn’s Onama forebears ensured that Onama learnings were automatically added to pages of already-acquired knowledge within the Librum Esotericas .

From how to properly summon a dragon on Realm Sadaadea and coralopes on the realm Exalter to how to restore worlds like Vallendor.

Now, Jadon shakes his head. “I’ve read this book all my life, and then I read it again after Olivia took it. I don’t remember seeing formulas for otherworldly or lists of special words. I remember bedtime stories and fairy tales, including an awful one about this hairy giant who we all thought…”

Was Kai. Yeah. The tale of Inocri and the two asshole kids that harassed her and forced her into servitude if she wanted to live.

“That’s what Celedan wanted you to read,” Agon says. “Remember: he is a Keeper of Knowledge, after all.”

“And now,” Elyn says, “this keeper of knowledge must pay for his treason.”

Celedan Docci still struggles within the clamped stone, and the heat of his hate still rolls over me. “Yui heya fadseirran na, Lenirr.” You have betrayed me, Lady.

I take a step back and say, “No— you betrayed me , Keeper.”

Agon tightens the clamps again, then says, “Adjudicator?”

Standing beside Agon, Elyn glares down at the tiny god and lifts her chin.

“I am Elyn Fynal. As Grand Adjudicator of Vallendor and the Nine Realms, Sentinel and Divine Mediator, with the approval of the Council of High Orders and the blessing of Agon Laserie the Kindness and Grand Wisdom of Vallendor, I sentence you, Celedan Docci, Keeper of Knowledge, to death.”

Celedan Docci shrieks. “Yuis rewr esa naelai lrrarr. Yui err wairr naia.” Your laws are meaningless. You all will die.

Agon grabs a mallet with a head made of linionium. Without ceremony, he brings the mallet down upon the jeweled home of Celedan Docci.

A fracture corkscrews across the gem’s body.

Agon brings the mallet down.

Celedan Docci cries out again as the jewel cracks into jagged halves.

Agon strikes a third time.

The gem—and the Keeper of Knowledge within it—shatter into powder.

We hold our breaths, our eyes locked on the glittering surface of the worktable, waiting for something— anything —to happen. The silence stretches on…

But nothing happens on that worktable surface.

Finally, Agon whispers, “Iasca’o.” It is done.

Behind us, Jadon makes a gagging sound and collapses between the guards.

Elyn whispers, “Shit,” and retreats to tend to her prisoner.

Agon and I remain standing at the table, watching the powder that was once Celedan Docci dissolve…

We wait there until there’s nothing left.

Only then do we both release our breaths and sag against the worktable.

Exhausted, Agon smiles and nods at me. “Well done.” He glances down at Jadon, but I can’t look away from my uncle yet.

His smile and his approval make my eyes cloud with tears. Well done.

Jadon, the Weapon, still sits on the floor.

His skin, now flushed from his ears to his neck, turns from pale gray to healthy bronze.

He lifts his head, his eyes swirling with color and slowly settling to become lavender.

He peers down at his right hand, and the marking there—the elements, each in their own circle—fades.

He dares to smile as his connection to his traitor-father becomes a mere memory.

With the guards’ help, Jadon rises to his feet like a man coming out of a drunken stupor.

I walk over to him and stand closer than I have since our night together at the Broken Hammer. I experience no rolling nausea, no buckling knees, not even a headache.

“Do I make you sick?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“Because you’re annoying or because you’re the son of the traitor?” I ask.

“Both.”

I laugh. “It’s almost the end of the world, but I feel fine.”

We’ve overcome so many obstacles. Stepped over so many bodies. Said goodbye to too many friends. But now…

I’m glad that Supreme didn’t just end me with one grand punishment.

Jadon is mine, this time for good.

…

Elyn and I retreat into our separate bedrooms.

I shudder as I strip out of my pewter armor, trying to avoid my reflection in the mirror.

Even with just a quick glimpse, I see that my body is a quilt of different skin tones and textures.

If I dared to look any longer, I’d never leave this chamber again.

But I have work to do—work that doesn’t require smooth, even-toned skin.

Fuck that— I miss my smooth, even-toned skin.