Page 94 of The Heart of Nym (The Twisted Roots Duology #1)

It seemed as though it was time to share truths.

Though Aziel was unashamed of all he’d done to protect Nymiria, he couldn’t fight the disgust he felt at hearing those words aloud, at seeing the faces of those around him watching all of this unfurl like it was some grandiose stage performance and not the object of all of his nightmares.

“I have a truth for you, Camalia.” Aziel’s voice had dropped a few octaves.

It was deep and dangerous, sending a chill up his own spine when he heard the sound of it.

“As The Mortem, there are many privileges that I have in the Otherworld. One of those being that I get to see every single soul that passes through those planes. Whether they are going into the ether, to the pits, or to the plane of lost souls, I see them all. Not only that, but I know every name—I know every crime, every detail of every life.”

Aziel began walking across the floor, stepping over Dorid once again, before climbing the stairs. He stopped in front of her, hands secured behind his back as he looked down his nose at her. She was confused, but she was also frightened.

Good.

“I stumbled across something after speaking to your son the other evening. You see, he said something very interesting to me about how he believed that you’d either become possessed or that you were not who you said you were.

” He explained. “So I did some research. I scoured every catalog of names in the Otherworld, and do you know what I found?” When Camalia didn’t react, he leaned forward. “Guess.” He whispered.

The queen shrugged, eyes darting to all of the shocked faces staring back at her. “I’m… I’m not sure. It could be anything.”

A cat-like grin spread across his face as he straightened his posture.

In his godly form, he looked like a creature of nightmares.

For the impostor before him, he was. “Camalia Diana Yaarborough. That is what I found.” He leaned forward, placing his hands upon the arms of the throne, encasing her so completely that all she could see was him and his death.

“I know who you are, darling. And there is not a chance in any world, of the living or of the dead, that I will let you see her.” He snarled. “Only she can grant you that honor.”

The moment the fire under her skin died out, Nymiria pulled herself from the bed and scurried to where Desi and Phyona were still watching her from their place on the floor.

Phyona observed her with a mixture of confusion and fear, glancing between her and Desi in hopes that someone could give her answers.

"It seems as though I have made the transition," Nymiria offered breathlessly, looking down at the God Stone that was still glowing silver in her hand. She smiled at Desi. "Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Desi only shook her head, letting out an incredulous scoff as she pushed herself to her feet. "You are insane, do you know that? Something horrible could have happened, you mixing magic the way that you did."

Nymiria couldn't explain the contrast in emotions.

Just hours before, she'd been broodish and had a perpetual cloud of sorrow trailing along behind her for years.

She'd felt weak and helpless—terrified and ashamed.

But there was now a lightness in her chest that she hadn't felt since that first time Aziel took her into The Beyond, swimming in that river, interacting with the Choking Vines.

If this magic that'd been placed upon her was anything like Aziel's, she could only assume that she'd regained her Grace the first moment she stepped foot across The Divide. And now it was back. Hers.

Looking at the young witch and the healer before her, Nymiria drew in a deep breath before looking down at her body.

She was naked, clothes having been cut from her before Phyona started her work, but her skin was covered in those beautiful white blossoms. "I need to get dressed.

" She stated. "And the two of you need to leave.

Aziel is preparing for war." Nymiria drew in a deep breath, searching the floor for the dress she'd been wearing earlier that day.

Once locating it, she began sifting through the fabric, locating the bodice of her dress, and digging her fingers into the carefully placed pocket on the side.

Gripping the tiortha, Nymiria turned back to them.

Phyona's gaze fell to the relic, her eyes going wide when Nymiria extended it in her direction.

"I'm sure Owen told you how to use this.

I'm sorry that I lied about it before, but I was waiting for the right moment.

" Phyona didn't seem angry, she just cradled the object in her hand and stared down at it as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

"I need you to gather as many Mystics as you can.

And I need you to take them to Greia's altar in Yaar's Wander.

From there, you should be able to transport to a safe location. " Nymiria explained.

The little witch nodded slowly, finally peering up at Nymiria with wet eyes. "This is it, isn't it?" She asked in a whisper. "The revolution my brother always spoke about—it's happening now, isn't it?"

Hearing those words sent a chill up Nymiria's spine, but she could not deny it.

Everything was changing. The sun had been shining in Yaar far too often for it to be mere coincidence.

She nodded. "I believe it is, Phyona." They stared at one another for a moment before Nymiria turned her attention to Desi.

Her friend. Her beautiful and talented friend that'd stuck by her side through it all, through every dark and dreary day of her life.

If guardian angels existed, Nymiria knew that Desi had to be one of them.

"I need you to go, too. I don't want anything to happen to you. "

Desi prepared to argue, probably to insist that she should be able to stay, but Nymiria simply pulled her into a hug.

"Of all the things in the world that mean something to me, Desi, you are of the most treasured.

I refuse to let anything happen to you in this cursed place.

Please go with her, take care of her. I'll find you when I can.

" She pulled back just enough to see the defeat on her friend's face.

"Alright." She sighed. "But don't think that just because you are a goddess now that you get to order me around. I'm still the one who has been taking care of you for the last ten years." Nymiria let out a laugh as Desi shoved a dress into her hands. "Get dressed, you fool."

With Phyona in tow, Desi left Nymiria to herself. She dressed cautiously, careful not to disturb the healing muscles that were now concealed by a fresh new layer of tender skin. It was a dull ache, but not strong enough to stop her from doing what she needed to do.

Find him.

The sun had set by this point in time and she was not quite sure how many hours had passed since she'd run into Dorid. It could have been days, but she still couldn't be sure. Certainly, Aziel wouldn't have left her alone for that long and Desi would have said something if he had.

She walked along the halls of the palace with an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach, peering into each open door and narrowing her eyes at every empty parlor.

A cold sweat had formed along her brow and that churning in her belly now felt like she was falling off of a very high cliff into uncertain waters.

The palace was silent. There was not a whisper or a laugh to be heard, even as she neared the courtyard and the dining hall.

The main hall was even vacant, with not a guard or ranger to be seen.

She continued her search, gripping her dagger as she turned towards the west wing of the palace where Dorid's rooms and the vault were located.

Nymiria couldn't understand what she was feeling.

That uneasy feeling growing stronger and stronger as she neared the hall that lead down to the vault.

But by the time she reached the top step that gave way to a darkened staircase, every alarm bell in her mind was blaring at her—telling her not to turn back, that something was down there that she needed to see.

With a steadying breath, she made her descent, glancing over her shoulder every other step to ensure that she was still alone.

By the time she reached the bottom step, darkness surrounded her completely.

There was not even a fraction of light to be seen, but the longer she stood in the darkness, the more her eyes began to adjust. She began to make out the shape of a door, a lock, and torches hanging on either side of the door frame.

She bypassed them both, only pausing when she reached the vault door.

From where she stood, she could have sworn that she heard someone talking behind each layer of metal, someone banging on the door from the inside. She'd heard enough stories of ghosts and ghouls not to trust what she heard. She tried to ignore the faint calls.

"Aziel!"

That gave her pause.

Looking over her shoulder once more, she flattened her palm and her ear against the door.

She could hear the voice clearer this way, though it did sound as if they were standing at the end of a very long tunnel.

There was no mistaking that it was Oran.

She would have recognized the deep rumble of his voice anywhere.

"Oran? Are you in there?" She yelled.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his voice less panicked and more relieved. "Yes! Nymiria, please. I need you to let me out. Something is happening. Something terrible is happening."

Nymiria looked down at the puzzle lock on the front of the door. She cursed under her breath, eyes closing as she fought the urge to slam her head against the metal. Of course there was a damn lock. "Oran, I don't have the key!"

"You don't need one!"