Page 58 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Fifty-Eight

LENA

M y limbs were trembling as I watched Silas wander off into the Sanctuary, a look of utter defeat etched on his face.

I had never been more bewildered in my life.

I love you so damn much.

What the hell was he talking about? Had our minuscule interactions made him desire me?

My heart sped up at the thought of his proximity just moments ago. He was a handsome man; there was no doubt about that. So much so that I was surprised I wasn't attracted to him when we were younger.

“Lena, you need to see this.”

His smoky tone unnerved me. Why had I not noticed how pleasant his voice was?

Ambling into the sanctuary, I first let out a breath at its beauty and the pleasant breeze that blew through the opened windows. The mid-day sun filtered through, and rows of benches were placed on either side of a walkway that led up to a pedestal. But when observing the large walls surrounding the massive window behind said pedestal, I realized what it was Silas wanted me to see.

Sprinting forward, running my hands along the concrete, I studied the symbols etched into the wall.

Not just any symbols. It was the Titharan language.

I fetched out Potestas Verae Maleficis, hoping to translate . Getting on my knees, I began s cribbling my chalk on the ground.

“Rebirth and Purification will fuse, thus creating the first-ever Realm Travelers,” Silas read out loud after I completed the first sentence. “You said Oquerene was a different realm, yes?”

“Correct, but…” My eyes frantically darted up and down from Potestas Verae Maleficis to the wall, back to my shaking hand. It took a few minutes, but I finished writing out the words.

An Azraeian portal will no longer be the only way. Not two Gods, but two Travelers. They will ensure Deceit's containment.

That dark feeling rushed over me just as a voice boomed, “There's a rift.”

I jolted, the chalk flying from my hand. Silas and I whirled around, his sword drawn and my fire flaring as we caught Vicsin sauntering forward, tilting his head as he examined us.

“Learning more about the prophecy, I see,” his mixed voice noted.

I lifted my chin. “The Lord of the Shadows, I presume?” I asked sweetly. “You left quite a mess downstairs.”

His grin grew, my pulse quickening at his vulgar appearance. I would never grow used to those dark eyes, the inky veins swirling around his lifeless skin, or that symbol etched onto his forehead. “Oh, you have no idea.”

I stood, my flame still creeping up my limbs. “What do you mean ‘a rift’?”

He tilted his head further, cracking his neck with his hand. “Death's sin did more than just initiate the creation of new Gods,” he answered, his voice blending with Vicsin's. “But with the potential fusing of Rebirth and Purification, we risk the creation of the Travelers. There has already been a disruption in our dimension's rift from Azrae, focusing his energy on keeping the Gods away. Less energy being put toward keeping the rift closed has caused our world to be tainted—not just realms within our dimension, but others.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Silas asked lowly. “What makes you believe such things?”

Vicsin released a grating laugh. “Isn't it obvious? There are so many ways our society is advanced, yet there are so many ways we are behind.” He strolled forward, hands going behind his back as he stepped around us, moving toward the engravings, chuckling at my translation on the floor. “We have drinks and foods and activities, even clothes and music, that have bled through the rift.”

I snorted, replying sarcastically. “What, lacy panties are getting thrown in from the other side?”

The necromancer did not appreciate my humor. “More like the ideas are being planted in our heads—ideas superseding the standard order of evolution. But, occasionally, yes. Something from another dimension finds its way here.” He lifted something out of his jacket pocket, raising a brow at me. “Drop this, and I kill one of your friends. ”

My stomach sank as he chucked something at me. Catching it against my chest, I stared down at the rectangle in my hands.

Lifting it away, I released a gasp when the front of it lit up.

It was a picture of some sort—something captured in time. A woman with golden hair and haunted hazel eyes sat, and in her arms were a young boy and a girl—her children, it seemed. All had rounded ears.

Their clothes were different than what we wore. Blander.

A white bubble appeared just as I was staring at the strange device.

Dela: Did u make it home last night? I'm so sorry I dipped…I feel so bad. But OMG mister was packing. 10/10. Pleaseeee forgive me.

Dela: Hopefully you got some too(; You deserve it, Daisy.

Dela: Pick up the phone, bitch!! What on Earth are you doing that's more important than talking to your best friend?

“What the hell is this?” Silas breathed, viewing the device from over my shoulder.

I touched its glass top, and the words Enter Passcode and a number of buttons replaced the messages.

Vicsin stepped closer, holding his hand out for the device. I hesitantly gave it back.

“Something from Earth, I'd presume,” he answered, solid black eyes focused on the rectangle. His head tilted up. “But don't you see? Their language is the same as ours. They look like us…but don't.”

“Why do you care?” Silas bit out. “Isn't your goal world hegemony or some shit like that?”

“I'm a curious man. What can I say?” He tucked the device—the phone, I'm guessing it's called—back into his jacket pocket. “Can you imagine what power and knowledge these other worlds possess? What from our world has bled into theirs?”

My brows lowered. “I find it hard to believe you'd want that power for anything good,” I said simply.

The corner of Vicsin's lip turned upward. “Good is complacent. Right and wrong are limiting.”

This man was fucking insane. I could take him out right now and provide Vicsin's body peace, but the necromancer wasn't attacking. I didn't wish to provoke him.

“Where did you find that device?”

“Where is the Weapon?” he countered.

I sighed, knowing he didn't plan on giving me any answers. I decided to try a different route. “You mentioned Valor's sin. Do you know what he did to cause all of this?”

Vicsin tilted his head back. “He fell in love with a mortal woman. Bred with her, thus resulting in the God of Deceit.” His smile morphed, growing sinister. “Thus, resulting in me.”

I swallowed my nerves, not wanting to alert him of my fear. “The God of Deceit created you?”

He scoffed. “Don't you get it, darling?” He placed a palm on his chest. “I am the God of Deceit.”

Silas breathed in sharply as I whispered, “Valor is your father?”

“By blood, yes. Though he was not the one who raised me.” His head tilted to the ancient text etched into the walls, his hand trailing along the engravings. “When Azrae had learned of my father's sin, he banished him from this realm, leaving my mother at the mercy of her husband.” He slid his tongue along his teeth. “When I was born with features that did not match my father nor my mother, he killed her.”

I felt a pang of pity for him. Just a pang. “My Gods…”

His solid eyes drifted to me. “He was a brutal man. I enjoyed ending his life.”

“How did you know you were this God of Deceit?” I breathed. “Who are you?”

I jerked back at the sound of multiple screams from below.

“Oh, you will know all in due time, Supreme.” He fixed his attention on Silas. “Unfaithful to your wife, huh?” He clicked his tongue, his grin wide. “I heard your words from earlier. You're just like your mother.”

I couldn't even process anything as the wails of our friends grew louder.

“You promised you wouldn't hurt us,” I bit out.

“And you promised me the Weapon.” He held out his palm toward the floor. “Chop, chop, Supreme. Get me what I need. Accipe corpus meum alibi.”

I only took a moment to process the fact that the necromancer teleported. With an incantation, yes, but without the use of a pentagram.

Silas and I instantly rushed through the pronaos and, as fast as we could, down the many spiral steps, Erabella's scream cutting through.

“Let her go, Godsdamn you!” Merrick bellowed.

When we reached where the sound was coming from, just outside one of the balconies, I was stopped by the sight of Heildee holding Erabella, her arm locked around the Princess's neck.

Era was sobbing, Merrick's arm trembling, his crossbow raised at his stepmother. Hendry's focus was deadly on them.

“Mother, please,” Elowen cried, her hands pulling at her pink hair. “You have to be in there. This isn't you!”

Heildee only grinned as she dragged a pointed fingernail along the side of Era's neck, drawing a bit of blood. Biting down, black blood dribbled from Heildee's lip, and she lowered her bloodstained mouth, kissing Era over the tiny cut.

Merrick released a bolt wrapped in ice, shooting right through Heildee's skull.

“Fuck!” Era cried, falling back as Heildee's body crashed to the ground.

“No…” Elowen whispered, wide aqua eyes glued to her mother's dead body.

Silas rushed to Era as Merrick lowered his crossbow. “Are you alright?!” the Prince demanded, helping her off the ground. His eyes trailed over the cut.

“Yeah,” she panted. “I-I think so.”

“Godsdammit,” Hendry growled. “I'm sorry, Silas. It was like she was here in one moment.”

“That's because she was,” Merrick replied quietly, roughly retrieving his bolt from Heildee's skull. “She did the same spell Lena did for teleporting. She was down in the altar room…waiting.”

“I should've felt her,” I whispered.

“I don't think so,” Merrick said, patting my back gently. “She was kneeling, unmoving. Perhaps the magic was dormant. That could explain why you didn't feel anything.”

“The important thing is everyone is alive.” Roland turned to me, eyes flitting to Silas. “You guys see anything up there?”

I sighed, then told them everything.

We decided to set up camp in the sanctuary, considering there were no dead bodies up there, and the nighttime breeze offered a small bit of relaxation. We were still waiting for Vi and Dani to return, hopefully with some good news. We sure as shit needed some.

Everyone sat silently for a while after Silas and I told our story, mentioning every odd thing the necromancer told us of other realms, the Travelers, and the worst fact of them all. He was the God of Deceit.

“He offered nothing up as to who the other Gods might be? Where might they reside?” Elowen asked, snuggling into Edmund's hold. He stroked her arms, green eyes worried as he looked to me for answers.

“I can only assume every God is his enemy, except for maybe Valor.”

“His father,” Torrin whispered. “I didn't know Gods could procreate with mortals.”

“Neither did we,” Silas admitted. “But it seems Azrae is the key to all of this. He is the only God still here, no? Why isn't he doing anything?”

“And what's all this about an Azraeian portal?” Roland scrubbed at his face, groaning. “Ugh. All of this hurts my head.”

Era rubbed at her temples. “You think your head hurts? I have a pounding headache,” she complained .

“We still have a destination,” I said quietly. “I say we ponder on the road and ask more questions when we get there.”

“Do you think he'll follow us there?” Edmund asked quietly.

I didn't wish to think of that possibility. Just as I tried to come up with a response, flapping could be heard in the distance. Two eagles came soaring in, shifting back to our friends as they stood before us, panting and grasping their knees.

“You're not going to like this,” Viola gasped.

“What now?” Merrick groaned.

Dani swallowed, pupilless eyes wide with dread. “The Undead have overtaken Wrendier.”