Page 30

Chapter Thirty

SYLVIE

M y legs gave way, and I fell to my knees.

Tanyl followed, sinking beside me, his hand finding mine in the swirling water that now covered the temple floor. He closed his fingers around mine, and I clung to him, waiting.

I was good at waiting. But I’d never waited for anything like this.

This was Perun—the river god, lord of the tempest, whose name I had invoked in prayer from the moment I learned to speak. He was real. He was here in the Citadel, and he looked furious .

On the platform, Silas collapsed, his knees splashing in the water. He trembled, and his voice shook as he said, “Great Perun, I have served?—”

“SILENCE,” Perun commanded, and several chunks of ceiling crashed to the floor. Perun waved a massive hand, and Briar’s limp body rose from the water.

A sob trembled in my throat at the sight of Skycleaver still protruding from Briar’s chest. Blood dripped steadily from the wound and fell into the swirling river below.

Sorrow etched Perun’s features as Briar hovered mid-air, his eyes closed and his arms and legs limp.

With another gesture from Perun, water rushed from the flooded temple floor, spiraling upward to form a gigantic, liquid fist, every knuckle and fingernail exquisitely detailed. Lighting flashed within it. The perfect fingers glowed with bright blue light.

Perun gestured again, and the fist unfolded. The massive fingers grasped Skycleaver’s hilt and pulled the blade from Briar’s chest. Blood gushed from the wound. It splashed in the water, turning it pink.

“No,” I whispered, squeezing Tanyl’s hand. “Please, no.”

Perun gazed down at Briar, his expression softening into tenderness. “My dutiful son,” he said, his voice gentler but still vibrating with power. “You have the purest heart. I cannot bear to hear it silenced.”

I held my breath, hope swelling. Perun reached out and touched one massive fingertip to Briar’s chest.

The watery fist swirled into a cyclone, the funnel whipping faster and faster. It moved to Briar and swept him into its center, encasing him in a cocoon of water and light.

And Briar changed. Inside the shimmering, swirling water, his body began to glow. The wound on his chest closed. His ears elongated, tapering to delicate points. The sigils on his wrists and throat blazed with brilliant blue light, the markings multiplying until they covered his arms and neck.

Tanyl squeezed my hand until I thought my fingers might break. With a glance at me, he seemed to realize what he’d done, and he loosed his grip.

I tightened mine, and we shared a smile.

The cyclone lowered Briar slowly, tipping him upright as he descended. When his feet touched the water-covered ground, the swirling funnel dissipated, turning into mist.

Briar opened his eyes. He blinked like he emerged from a deep sleep, and his brow furrowed as he looked down at his chest. Sucking in a breath, he touched the tip of one ear.

“Oh…” he said, looking at his wrist. Then he lifted his gaze—and he tipped his head back…and back, his eyes meeting Perun’s. Briar gulped.

“Oh…” he said, more breathlessly this time. Slowly, he sank to his knees.

Perun’s eyes crinkled at the corners. A deep chuckle rumbled from him, and distant thunder boomed.

A sudden gust of wind roared through the temple. It circled the chamber, sending water spraying into the air. And yet, it left the center of the temple undisturbed. Just as I braced for the wind to change direction, a woman stepped from behind Perun.

Hair flowed to her waist like water, the strands a thousand shades of blue. Deep blue eyes gleamed with power. Her white gown hugged a slender body, the hem fluttering in a phantom breeze. She smiled up at Peron, who bowed as he lifted one hand and pressed it to his heart.

The wind spun faster, lapping the chamber. The woman returned Perun’s bow. Then she turned and walked toward me.

My heart stuttered, and my throat went dry. Wind whistled as the woman drew closer, a sweet smile curving her lips. Her movements were graceful, her hips swaying like a willow tree dancing with the wind.

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I bowed my head and murmured, “Blessed Thara, Goddess of Wind, protect those who dwell in Spring.”

Cool fingers cupped my chin. Thara guided my head up, and she smiled softly as she wiped a tear from my cheek with her thumb.

“You are a good wife,” she said, her voice like chimes. “You will be a good mother.”

Heat flowed down my chin. It spread down my chest and pooled low in my stomach. My breath hitched, and I knew I’d been right. I was barren.

Was barren. I wasn’t anymore.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my throat tight with unshed tears.

Thara gifted me another sweet smile. Then she returned to Perun’s side. Wind roared as she pulled Skycleaver from thin air and offered it hilt-first to her husband.

The river god took the sword. Then he beckoned to Briar, who startled.

Me? Briar mouthed, disbelief and a healthy hint of fear on his face.

Perun’s chuckle sent more thunder rumbling through the temple. He smiled as Briar rose and shuffled toward him, then he swept a hand forward as if he invited Briar to accompany him on a stroll. Briar’s fear turned to wonder as he gave a tentative nod. When Perun started forward, Briar fell into step at his side.

The ground shook, and water roared as Perun strode toward Tanyl and me. Tanyl tensed, and I tried to channel reassurance into my fingers as I squeezed his hand.

Perun stopped before us, his gaze on Tanyl. The god looked down at Skycleaver before laying the blade flat across his palms. He proffered it to Tanyl.

“This sword belongs to my wife,” Perun said, and the ground rumbled under my knees. Perun slid a look at me and winked. “Every woman should own a sword.”

Tanyl swallowed with an audible sound. “Agreed.”

Perun gave him a skeptical look, but amusement danced among the lightning in his eyes. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Tanyl rasped. “I am.”

“Then accept this as a gift from my beloved Thara,” Perun said. Tanyl took the sword, and Perun gave him a fond look. “Let’s hope you’re more certain of other things, as well.”

Tanyl swallowed again. “I am.”

Perun nodded. Then he seemed to grow larger, his shoulders blotting out the temple wall behind him. When he spoke again, his voice boomed louder than the thunder.

“IF YOU KILL THE GRAND MASTER, YOU KILL THE RIVVEN. IT IS YOUR CHOICE, KING OF SPRING.”

Tanyl looked at Silas, who cowered on the platform. Then he looked up at Briar.

Silent communication passed between them. And a bond flowed between them, its anchors rooted in the broken ground of Saltvale.

But they weren’t broken.

We weren’t broken. We were whole.

Did you see anything, child?

Yes. But I hadn’t looked closely enough until now. The prophecy was correct. I’d simply misinterpreted it. Tanyl wasn’t supposed to rule.

He was supposed to rule with me and Briar.

I waited, love and gratitude overflowing my heart.

Briar gave Tanyl a small, almost imperceptible nod. Tanyl rose, Skycleaver in hand, and strode to the platform.

Silas shrank against the ground as Tanyl mounted the steps. “You can’t kill me!” he cried. “You have no authority here!”

“I have the will of the gods,” Tanyl said, “and the goddesses.” He stood over Silas, his face cold and furious. Even without his magic, he’d never looked more terrifying. “For your crimes against Spring and the people of Vetra, along with your perversion of Perun’s gifts, I sentence you to death. May Perun protect you, because I certainly won’t.”

Tanyl swung, beheading Silas in a clean blow. The Grand Master’s head splashed into the water at the base of the platform. His body tipped sideways and smacked against the ground.

I let a breath ease from my lungs. Finally, finally , the Scarrok were gone—and they weren’t coming back.

The temple shuddered violently, more chunks of stone falling from the ceiling. The water around my knees climbed my thighs and kept coming. Briar pulled me to my feet and held me against him.

Perun offered us a fond smile. As Tanyl splashed down the platform steps, the god stepped back. Water rushed up his body, lightning and wind swirling to his shoulders.

“WHAT ARE YOU THREE WAITING FOR?” he boomed as cracks appeared in the pillars. “YOU HAVE BETTER PLACES TO BE.”