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Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Liv

I can’t even write about how messed up I am after meeting Ouras. If I felt like I was losing my mind before, it’s nothing compared to now.

V ines hung from shining black horns that curled away from a feral face made of copper and raven black stripes. Citrine-yellow eyes narrowed in on me, and the moving statue hissed as it stood high above us, bearing sharp fangs.

The light from above shone off Ouras’s strange, reflective skin as he paused for us to take him in. More vines hung from his shoulders and arms, making him look as though carved from a tree. He was a true god of the earth, made from stone and wood.

“Do you see what I am seeing?” Maev’s voice shook.

“He looks like the beast.” Ollo stepped in beside me, trying to put me behind him.

What they didn’t see was he reminded me of the half-beast. The one in my dreams.

Ouras’s eyes were similar to Rem’s—black where the white should be. Inhuman. But Ouras had slitted pupils surrounded by yellow iris—identical to the Aspis.

Black curling horns, fangs, claws —the gods had made the Aspis. Of course, it would look like them. But then, the Aspis bore no resemblance to Rem. What did that mean?

The magic that had enthralled me upon entering the Temple had been from a god, yet I hadn’t crumbled from his power. My mind repeated that over and again as Ouras stood to his full height. The first time I met Rem, the magic caused me pain.

But I had grown used to that pain in the past weeks.

A deep groaning came from the god, his pupils thinning. He was much taller than Rem, who was already over ten feet.

The Guardians that surrounded us didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t known Ouras was here, and by the looks on the monk’s faces, many of them hadn’t either.

The sun from above cast us in a circle of light, while shadows fell on the Guardians and monks.

Ouras leaned over, blocking the sun from my eyes.

“I am the Ikhor.”

Ouras didn’t blink. He no longer moved, a statue once more, staring down at the evil incarnate.

“The stories say that the magic within me once belonged to you. I have come to give it back. I have come to end this war.”

“Lies,” a Guardian hissed from somewhere behind me.

Others echoed their disbelief. “You’ve torn villages to the ground. The south burns!”

A scuffle sounded behind me, and I found a Guardian with a blade in hand, being held back by his team. I didn’t mention the floods or argue that it was one of their own burning the villages. Who would believe that the Governor’s daughter caused as much destruction as the Ikhor?

I faced the god again, whose gaze was now tracing lines over my body, moving in unnatural ways. He cocked his head to the side, casting a reflection off his horns.

“Will you take it back?” My hands shook, but I didn’t hide them behind me.

Still, the god said nothing.

The domed room was anything but silent—a humming echoed, getting louder and louder until it was a loud din. Magic saturated the air. Was it his or mine?

“Maybe he can’t hear you,” Maev said.

“I am the Ikhor,” I shouted each word, making the Guardians raise their weapons higher.

A monk, younger than I, ran forward, stopping before the god and facing me.

The woman had bird-like features, the feathers on her head pointing backward.

She held her arms wide in front of Ouras in an impressive show of bravery.

“What is it you seek from our god Ouras?” Her attention darted over her shoulder as if afraid of having him at her back.

Those snake-like eyes, so similar to the Aspis, never left my face. Why was he staring so hard yet not speaking?

“I want to return the Ikhor’s magic.”

The girl’s mouth went round. “Why? You’re evil. This must be a trick.”

“Oh my god.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, turning to Maev for help.

“Liv, you’re in the presence of one. Don’t curse them,” she said through her teeth.

“He’s heard curse words before. He probably created them.”

“The revered god of Mountain doesn’t speak the common tongue,” the young monk shouted. Her nose, which came to a sharp point like a beak, clacked against her pointed lower lip. “Though he understands intentions. He wishes to hear your request.”

Ouras hadn’t moved. He looked … unnerved.

Guardians all around were waiting, holding their breath, watching the god as much as they watched me.

“How do you know? He didn’t say anything,” I asked.

The young monk had a defiant gleam in her eye. “Of course he did. He’s speaking now. The language of Mountain sounds like the whispering in the trees. The creaking of wood, the tumble of rock.”

Over my heart pounding, I could make out a low rumbling. It was similar to the rattling of a snake. Similar to what the half-beast had done in those dreams. What did that mean?

“What’s he saying?” I asked.

“That he thinks you look familiar.”

I took a step back. “How so?”

Was this god in my dreams when I thought it had been him ?

“He will not say.”

I shook my head, not wanting to be given more riddles. “Never mind that. Will he accept the magic back? I’m trying to end this stupid cycle.”

The monk listened to Ouras before saying, “You can’t.”

Guardians pressed in farther, and with them, Ollo. His arms pushed next to mine, keeping me close. He slid a hand to my swords, patting them to remind me they were there.

I stepped around him. “What do you mean? Tell him to take the magic back.”

“He can’t,” she repeated.

“Why the fuck not?” My words echoed in the chamber.

I had once been terrified of uttering such a word. Now it was being thrown back in my face from a tall domed ceiling.

“Mind your tongue, Ikhor. He said he can’t, not that he won’t. The magic won’t go to him. Find another way.”

“Tell him he’s useless.”

Several Guardians gasped, along with Maev, who wrapped a hand around my arm, squeezing.

“I will not.” The young monk paused, looking over her shoulder.

“What did he say?” I demanded.

“He says you’re a good host.” She craned her neck. “But the magic is corrupt, Father. Why do you compliment it?”

“What makes a good host?”

The god’s scrutiny was dizzying. The longer I looked into those yellow eyes—the eyes of the beast—the more I thought the god might be insane.

“Ouras says the magic that you stole suits you. Your emotions are wild. Ouras loves wild things.”

“I thought the magic was his?”

“No.” Her shoulders relaxed as she put her hands behind her back. The monk raised her chin, and I was impressed how this one, so little compared to the others, showed me no fear. “The magic belongs to all of them.”

“Right. So, who do I need to ask? How do I give it back?”

I exchanged a look with Maev, who shrugged.

A Guardian stepped forward in the growing circle around Ouras and my small group. “The magic will not be returned until evil is vanquished from the hearts of men. Until then, you must die, Ikhor.”

Several more stepped forward, and the bird monk raised her hand to stop them, unafraid of the many weapons held close. But it didn’t stop the Guardians from advancing.

I flinched when several ran for me. My hand landed on my blades.

Ouras roared, shaking the temple and causing the Guardians to stumble back in fear.

The young monk fell to a knee but held her hand raised to keep the Guardians away. “Stop,” she said. “Our punishment is to be righted by the Aspis. Our saviour is the one to make the kill. Call the Guards.”

The Guardian, who had spoken earlier, gave a quick nod and fled from the temple. Several Guardians broke the line and left to follow.

“Shit, if the Guards are close, we may not make it back to our ship.” Maev went stiff as Ollo put a hand on her shoulder.

“We packed just in case. But Liv still has the power to get us out of here.”

“If she uses the magic, it will only call the Aspis to our location,” Maev replied.

As if in answer, a loud rumble came from above, shaking the room from outside.

“Too late,” Ollo said.

Rock and dirt crumbled from the gaping hole in the ceiling, and those who weren’t Guardians cowered against the walls.

Ouras rattled the room in reply. He seemed unhappy.

“But Father, that goes against your teachings.” The monk blanched.

“What did he say?” A Guardian asked. “Does Ouras not want us to attack?”

The monk levelled her hate-filled glare at me. “He says if you find the others, he may change his position on the matter.”

“The other gods?” I asked, surprised. Why wasn’t the god striking me down? Shouldn’t he hate me too? I represented what had been taken from him, but the monk said I impressed him.

“The two missing gods?” Maev asked.

Frustrated, I put my hands on my hips.“What if I go to Rem? Can he not help me? It’s said he loves his children. Surely, he would use magic to save them.”

The monk shook her head. “He says find the others and ask.” She looked from her god to me, and her face displayed the confusion in my heart. “But if you go to Rem, you will be forfeiting your life.”

“How so? Why would Rem not want the magic back?”

“After you’ve turned their magic evil? Why would any of them? I suggest you do the world a favour and see the god of Day, Ikhor. Rid us of your evil. You are nothing but destruction. You are the end of everything.”

Ouras growled, showing his displeasure, and the monk bowed deeply, her hands shaking.

Maev squeezed my elbow. She was looking at me hard, and it hit me.

The Oracle’s warning, “ You will be the end of everything. ”

She was right. I would be. “I will be the end of everything, monk. Tell your god I will find the others and end everything on my terms.”

Maybe what the Oracle said could hold a different meaning if I took the prophecies into my own hands and moulded them into something new. I would end everything—end the cycle.

When I looked back at Maev, she had a smile on her face and seemed excited. Shouldn’t she be mad? I wasn’t offering to return home with her.

“Don’t let them escape!” A Guardian shouted up at Ouras.