Page 32 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

LENA

S ilas had thankfully fallen to sleep. Because of the soundproofing spell I did on the tent, no one on the outside knew whether I was done or not.

Part of me wanted to keep it this way for a little while. I watched as his breathing calmed and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face.

I loved how sweet he appeared at rest. How beautiful his face was. Even with that scar.

I ran my thumb along the raised, imperfect flesh. It was deep, that was for sure. But its thinness made me believe it was from a blade of some sort.

Silas let out a small sigh in his sleep as I caressed his cheek, his head tilting to rest against my hand.

I will always love you .

Who was he talking to when he said that? Were those words for me?

It was clear toward the end that Silas was hearing my voice, but his responses were still as if someone else was talking to him.

I had told him I'd always love him, too.

And that kiss…how was I supposed to get that kiss out of my head? Will he remember it?

Silas’s eyes slowly opened, and I carefully removed my hand from his cheek. A wave of relief washed over me when I saw that his irises were back to their captivating golden hue.

I gave him a small smile. “Hey.”

He didn’t respond; he just stared at me with a frown that increasingly became more fearful.

My smile faltered. “It’s over. You shouldn’t have any more hallucinations.”

Still no response, those golden eyes just shifting between mine.

“Silas—”

“Leave.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I want you to leave,” he replied hoarsely, a wince on his face.

“Leave…? Leave this tent, or—”

“The tent. Leave the tent.”

I bit down on my lip in an attempt to harbor my emotions. “Very well,” I whispered. I stood, and when I tilted my head down to look at him, his eyes were cast downward. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

The muscles in his jaw feathered. “Have someone else bring some.”

My heart sank, and I twisted my head away before the burning in my eyes caused tears to pour out.

What did I do?

I halted with the tent fabric in my hand, about to exit. I peeked over my shoulder at him. “Silas, I don't actually know where the Weapon is. I hope you know that. I just said that shit to get him to stop hurting you.”

He wouldn't look at me. “Leave.”

I dragged my teeth against my lip, biting down hard enough that the slight pain pulled me out of my head.

I exited, striding toward Era. I was sure that was who he wished for. I was sure that's who his words were for.

She was sitting beside Merrick, the two of them in the middle of a conversation—a serious one, it seemed, as they both wore frowns on their faces.

Merrick looked over first, and then Era's brown eyes anxiously went to mine as she scooted away from him.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s back to his old grumpy self. He’d like some water.”

Era nodded, arms wrapping around herself as she ambled toward the tent.

As she left, I replaced her spot, sitting next to Merrick, covering my face.

“That bad, huh?” he asked.

“He couldn’t even look at me after,” I muttered.

“I’m sure he just needs time to adjust. He’s been through a lot of trauma and just had to relive it. Who knows what exactly he saw.”

I let my hands fall away from my face, and I studied my friend, his head resting against the tree trunk, his silver hair tied in a low bun. His jaw was set, surely thinking about his sister. “How’s El?”

“She's out of it too, I'd imagine, if Silas is. I haven't seen her yet, though.”

“How are you ?”

He snorted, reddened eyes finding mine. His smile fell. “High as a kite. Like a pathetic piece of shit.”

I pulled him into a hug, and he returned the gesture, holding me tight. Merrick didn't hug much, but he always hugged me. “Shut up. You aren't a piece of shit.”

He was silent for many moments. “I am, Lena. My sister is the one actually suffering, and I can't even handle it filtered through me. I had to numb it. I'm weak.”

I leaned back, eyeing the wrapped herb lying on the ground beside him. “If you're weak, then so am I,” I responded, picking his joint off the ground and lighting it with my index finger.

I didn't like using substances usually. I craved control—needed it. But honestly, after my interaction with Silas, I could use a bit of numbing, too. So, I inhaled the smoke and let its effects wash over me.

“What?” I hissed quietly two hours later. “I am not getting salt all in our tent.”

“Then put it on the outside,” Roland offered, leaning back on his elbows, shirtless, with his appealing physique tempting me. The little mage lights in our tent accentuated every ripple of muscle in Roland's body.

He told me he wanted to fuck me—hard—and urged that I soundproof our tent so he could do so.

“Right. I may as well put up a sign saying, ‘Do not disturb. Lena and Roland are screwing in this tent.’”

His sexy grin grew. “I'm sure they already assume that,” he purred, leaning up and kissing my neck softly.

My eyes fluttered closed, and I leaned my head back on his shoulder as he sucked on my skin.

“Mmm…that's true…”

Roland's dark chuckle spread goosebumps across my skin. “Come on, Ginger Snap,” he pleaded. “I'm desperate.”

Nearly an hour later, I was lying on Roland's sweaty chest, catching my breath after he made true to his promise.

“Hope that spell worked,” Roland teased. “I think that's the hardest I've made you scream.”

I pinched his side, and he slapped my ass.

I grinned, leaning up to look at him. “Tell me more about yourself, Roland.”

His eyes danced downward to me. “What do you want to know?”

I quirked my mouth to the side, tapping my lips as I thought about it. “You got any family?”

“I do. Mom and Dad, and four sisters.” His fingers drifted up and down my back.

“Four?!”

He laughed. “I know, I know. Our household was always full of drama.” He smiled to himself as he reminisced. “I'm the middle child. Two big sisters, two younger ones.”

I gently caressed his torso. “Do you miss them?”

His smile slipped, and his eyes returned to mine. “Terribly. It had already been a few months since I saw them by the time we got to Ames.” He sighed, sucking in his bottom lip. “I'm sure they've been notified of my betrayal by now. I can only hope they'll understand.” He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “My mother is probably worried sick.”

“You seemed to join this cause easily…did you have any doubts?”

“No. I've never liked the King, and I believe in Silas. I believe he'll be a far better leader.”

Roland was looking up now, away from me, brows drawn together. The muscle in his jaw was ticking.

“I feel there's something you're not telling me, Roland.” I felt him tense slightly, which was proof enough that there was something he was hiding. I leaned up on my elbow. “What happened between you two?”

He gnawed at his lip again, shaking his head as he sat up, running his hands through his short, dark hair. “We just have a past. That’s all you need to know.” I opened my mouth to press further, but Roland's serious gaze slid to mine. “I won't talk about it.”

Thoughts scrambled through my mind, but I couldn't come up with anything that made sense. Roland had to have done something to piss off Silas…but what?

I nodded slowly, my eyes raking down, studying the wings tattooed on his back and down his sides. Angel wings. There was so much about him I knew nothing about.

“What's the inspiration for your tattoo?” I asked, changing the subject.

His shoulders relaxed, clearly happy to be talking about something else. "I've always found the Angels fascinating—even if they don't exist anymore." He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “Plus, I thought it looked badass.”

I laughed through my nose, sitting up to run my fingers along his inked skin. “It is badass,” I agreed.

“Will you ever get any tattoos?”

I traced the feathers in his wings, goosebumps spreading across his flesh. “I'd like to. I'm just not quite sure what I'd get.”

“I'm sure you'd make anything look badass, Ginger Snap.” Roland kissed the top of my head, then nudged himself upward, leaving me sitting alone as he slid on his pants.

“Where are you going?” I pouted.

“I just need to clear my head.” He leaned down, kissing me gently on the lips. “Sweet dreams, Lena.”

My chest hurt as I watched him exit, feeling guilty for asking him about Silas. But still, why would that question cause him distress?

The following morning, we packed up our belongings, and as I mounted Donut, a horse I was growing attached to, Dani held out Potestas Verae Maleficis.

“I'd like you to do some reading,” she said as I petted the horse's mane. “I want you to learn how to teleport as soon as possible. Page two-hundred fourteen. You'll notice how that section of spells relies on Titharan symbols. The language.” She stretched her arms, preparing to shift. “You'll have the book to look at for reference, but familiarizing yourself with it will help.”

“Is this similar to the portal Immeron has on the mountain?” Roland asked as he lifted himself up to sit behind me. I was grateful he'd come back to sleep beside me later in the night.

Dani flipped her ponytail, grinning. “Yes, and no. A stagnant portal is far easier to conjure, especially with your ability to do so innately. Still advanced, but nothing compared to the power of being able to bring yourself directly to the mountaintop from here.”

I couldn't even fathom having that much power.

“Have you done it before?” I asked her, leaning back into Roland's body. He slowly caressed my thigh.

Her blue eyes softened. “No. I've never had the strength to. Only a select few Warlocks have succeeded in doing it. We're talking only the best of the best of our kind.” She placed the tome in my hand.

I glanced down at the book just as Dani shifted into the stunning stallion, and we all continued our journey further south.

I spent hours flipping through the ancient text. Notes were made in our language, so thankfully, I was able to understand most.

The symbols for the advanced spells all involved a sort of pentagram. Along its lines, various symbols were etched, all with different meanings. At the very beginning of this text, a glossary was present, and every symbol was listed with its purpose, along with the Titharan alphabet.

It was fascinating. Exciting.

As I read, I noticed plenty of mentions of Tithara, the Goddess of Wisdom. Apparently, the Goddess created these symbols as a way for the Gods' magical designs to communicate with their creators—to understand their roots better.

How, I didn’t know. That was just what it said.

As I read further, more information about the Gods and Goddesses spread throughout, I found something that caught my eye. I about toppled off of Donut.

First, listed was information I already knew.

Ravaiana – The Goddess of Life

Valor – The God of Death

Tithara – The Goddess of Wisdom

Azrae – The God of Vengeance

Celluna – The Goddess of Love

Then, just below, a prophecy had been made. Centuries ago.

ONLY AFTER THE SIN OF DEATH WILL FOUR GODS RISE TO POWER

The God of Deceit

The Goddess of Sacrifice

The God of Rebirth

The Goddess of Purification

MAY AZRAE SHOW MERCY TO US ALL.

“Whoa…what the fuck,” I respired.

Sacrifice. Rebirth. Purification. Those were all the exact meanings of three of the four birds on the Otacian crest.

My mind was reeling .

So…The Goddess of Sacrifice protects The God of Rebirth and The Goddess of Purification…from Valor?

“Roland, will you hand me the book in my bag?” I asked nervously.

Silas's eyes finally flitted over to me after ignoring me since he woke up yesterday. “What's wrong?” he pressed, noting the panic in my voice immediately.

Roland plopped the Warlock text in my hand, and I opened it, flipping through the pages with haste.

The only God who was not symbolized in the crest was The God of Deceit. What creature stood for it?

Deceit, Deceit…there.

Spider: Deceit

Spider.

“FUCK!” I blurted, pulling on the reins to force Donut to a halt.

“What?!” Silas demanded.

I rushed off the horse, clutching the books. “Dani!”

Merrick and Vi exchanged a quick, nervous glance before rushing off the Warlock. She shifted back to her human form instantly. “What the bloody hell—”

“This prophecy,” I said breathlessly, pointing to the text.

Her eyes skated down to it. “Yeah? What about it?”

“The God of Deceit. The animal that symbolizes deceit is a spider.”

She frowned, her eyes widening as she made the connection. “There's no possible way,” she breathed, shaking her head.

“Uh, can someone clue us in as to what the fuck you guys are talking about?” Merrick said impatiently.

“If he were a God, what would he need this Weapon for?”

Everyone's face paled from Dani's question.

“It's the only thing that can stop him,” I whispered. “Magic to stop all magic.”

Silas bared his teeth. “Someone explain. Now.”

So, I did. I told him of the animal symbolism in the Otacian crest, of Igon's compass, and of the necromancer's mark.

“If this is real, why would these new Gods be depicted on the Otacian crest? What is the purpose?” Silas prodded. “Why isn’t a spider a part of the design?”

“When did the crest get created?” Dani asked.

Silas turned to her. “When the kingdom was founded. Centuries ago.”

“Only through fire can the phoenix be reborn from the ashes…” Merrick spoke slowly, reciting Igon's words. “You think…you think Igon wishes you to raise this God of Rebirth?”

I ran my hands through my hair, letting out a dry laugh. “Fuck if I know. Where would I even find him? And what of the other two?”

The pelican symbolizing Igon was an idea out the door now. But still, the pelican being engraved on the compass could not be a coincidence.

“Wouldn't someone know if they're a God already?” Hendry asked, entirely skeptical of this idea. “Wouldn't you be able to tell?”

“No one knows what any of the Gods look like,” Elowen responded, her aqua eyes narrowed. “Besides, with the power they possess, I'm sure they could disguise themselves as one of us.”

Dani chewed at her nails, pacing in circles before coming to a stop, her hand falling to her side. “Maybe the Warlocks of Daranois have some answers.”

I whipped my head to her. “You know where there are more Warlocks?”

“I'm not certain they 're there. A coven used to reside there centuries ago. In the caverns.” Her eyes slid to the Prince. “Ever since Otacia gained control of Daranois, my people have stayed away. But a powerful Warlock from Daranois wrote Potestas Verae Maleficis. If anyone has any further knowledge, it would be them.”

Daranois was one of Otacia's first conquered kingdoms. It would be hard to believe any remained, but then again, the fact that Warlocks ruled Forsmont would've seemed improbable a few months ago.

Maybe they still resided there.

“We have to continue to Faltrun,” Silas insisted, “and to wherever Lena is being led.” He studied me. “Do you think Igon knew of the Gods' identities?”

I shook my head slowly, then shrugged in defeat. “I…I don't know. Seers cannot give up all their information without the potential of altering the future.” I flitted my eyes to the sky, picturing our Supreme looking down on us. “If he did, he wouldn't have been able to tell.”

Edmund ran a comforting hand down Elowen's trembling arm. “By infiltrating the minds of those he overtakes, does the necromancer have the ability to get into their memories? Would he have been able to see what Igon saw?”

“If he has seen everything Igon has, we'd be fucked already. Igon clearly had an idea where this Weapon was located.” I took a steadying breath. “I think the Lord of the Shadows is simply a host—a parasite.”

“For all we know,” Hendry continued, “this necromancer could be serving this God of Deceit. It doesn't necessarily mean he is him. ”

“We can only hope.” I turned to Dani. “What sin did death—did Valor do that resulted in four new Gods?”

She shrugged. “It has always been a mystery. And the biggest folklore. I mean, this was prophesized hundreds of years ago. I never thought too much about it before.”

Merrick placed a hand on my shoulder, sensing my unease. “We can go over ideas as we walk, but Silas is right. We need to keep moving. If the necromancer truly is a God, we need an army now more than ever.”

I went over theories in my head for the rest of the day, but I couldn't come up with any ideas on the identity of not only The God of Deceit but the other three Gods that supposedly had been created.

I was fascinated by all I learned. Apparently, the Gods once roamed our planet before Valor’s sin caused a punishment, forcing them back into their own realms by Azrae.

Another unclear message was written.

DEATH AND LIFE. EVERYTHING MUST BALANCE.

Ravaiana was forced back to Elysium, and Valor went to the Underworld, otherwise known in this text as Elytial. Celluna, Tithara, and Azrae's realms were not listed.

Azrae, the God of Vengeance, was apparently the only one who was still able to visit here…Sol, our realm was called.

HE WILL RIGHT THE WRONG AT GREAT COST. CELLUNA WILL MAKE SURE OF IT .

I was so sick of these vague answers. There had to be a reason Igon didn't outright tell me everything. He wouldn't make me or my people suffer for no reason.

Or would he?

If Nereida really was a safe haven for our kind, why would he have kept us in Ames? Why would he have us surrender?

It was our final evening before reaching Faltrun. Once more, our tents were set up, and we were ready for, hopefully, our last night of unsavory sleep. This time, Merrick performed the soundproofing spell around our camp. I had attempted to perform occultare nos ab aspectu, a cloaking spell to hide us, but the incantation proved difficult. I was unable to successfully perform it.

“Don't beat yourself up. It takes far more energy to complete. You'll get it eventually,” Dani had encouraged.

We were eating dinner: a deer Hendry had managed to shoot down and that Roland had cooked and seasoned. Elowen winced but forced herself to eat it. She never would eat meat in our village; she had always felt too bad for the animals.

I strode up to Silas, who was in the middle of a conversation with Erabella.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” I asked him, his glare finding mine, threatening me to cower.

Era surprisingly beamed at me. I gave her a tight-lipped smile in return.

He nodded, kissing Era's hand before following me.

Did he do that just to hurt me?

We strolled off further into the forest, and when we had some privacy, I faced him.

“You feel it too, don't you?” I finally asked, looking up at him. “That dark feeling.”

Silas shrugged, staring off into the distance. “I don 't know,” he answered blandly.

“You felt it in the forest that first day I met you,” I pressed. “I know you did.”

“So what?” His eyes snapped to mine. “I felt it many times after that.”

My eyes flickered. “You did?”

He nodded grimly. “I don't remember every moment. I just have felt it from time to time.” He exhaled through his nose, looking back into the trees. “I felt it…I felt it the night you supposedly died. So strongly it woke me from my sleep.”

I swallowed, eyes looking up at him. “What could that mean? We've only felt it in close proximity to his creations.” My eyes flared. “You don't think he was in Otacia, do you? Near the castle?”

He faced me then, glowering at me in contempt. “I. Don't. Know.”

He went to storm off as if I'd actually allow that.

“Look at me,” I ordered, gripping his arm tightly. He bared his teeth as his eyes flitted down to me. I kept my chin up high. “Don't retreat on me,” I demanded. “Don't return to being cold.”

He went to tug away, but I held him tighter.

“I would've spewed any bullshit if it meant saving you, saving my friends. I know you're pissed about that—”

“You don't know shit,” he retorted.

I balled my fists, then angled my head upward, looking at him through my nose. “He believes I am of use to him. That offers us some protection, at least for now.”

“Regardless of if he does or does not call your bluff, he will be following us. Tracking us. I'd hardly call that protection. ”

“He was already following us,” I countered. “Only this time, he should hopefully be keeping to himself.” Silas didn't respond, so I continued, “I hate your father, Silas. But I wouldn't side with a literal monster just because I fear Ulric…fear whatever his use of the Weapon would be.”

Silas's eyes shifted between mine. “They are both monsters,” he said quietly.

My gaze softened at the sight of torment behind his eyes. I released his arm from my grasp. He stared for a moment longer as if debating to say more before ultimately treading away.