Page 35 of Winds of Destiny

Kai

“Keep moving!” An unstrung bow string whips at the backs of my legs, just sharp enough to really irritate me. I turn to look at the man wielding it, one of Embros’s remaining soldiers, and glare at him. Let’s see how he manages an incline like this with his hands tied behind his back and his legs hobbled, the little shit. Slow is better than falling on my ass.

Apparently my glare is fierce enough that he’s the one who stumbles on the slope to the temple ahead of us. Naturally, this infuriates him into hitting me twice as hard with the next strike.

“Don’t mark our new prince up too badly,” Embros admonishes the man holding my leash. He’s been very solicitous of me ever since he found me on the beach outside this stinking place. “We want him to be strong enough to summon his god without difficulty.”

“You are absolutely fucked if you think I’m going to summon Carnuatu to this place,” I say. I mean it, too. I would rather have every bone in my body broken than entice my god into this pit.

Coming to from the descent into Inarime to see not Turo but Embros’s leering face staring down at me was the rudest awakening I’ve ever had, no exceptions. I lashed out instantly, but all I accomplished was nearly wrenching my own shoulder out of the socket before I realized that he’d already bound my hands.

“Where’s Camrael?” I’d asked desperately. And where is Turo?

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Embros had replied with a laugh. “Not now that I’ve got you. Truly, we are destined to succeed in restoring the city of Inarime to greatness!”

It took a while before my head was clear enough that I remembered to focus on the pearl pressed to my bare chest beneath my shirt. The feelings I got from it were muddled, but I could at least tell Camrael was in no pain. More like a gradual awakening, similar to mine.

And Turo…

I didn’t want to think about what could have happened to him yet. I’d rolled over onto my knees, staring at the men—and woman—around me busily packing up everything of theirs that had washed ashore. There wasn’t much, and they were down half their people. I was lucky to have survived.

Something caught my eye. I looked a little closer at the ground in front of me, thick with algae, and saw smudges that seemed out of place. But why? My tracker’s instincts made me stare at it, trying to solve the puzzle before me, and after a moment, it hit me—the smudges, while indistinct, were spaced like tiny footprints would be. Or in this case, paw prints.

Turo’s god.

She made it over the edge—of course she did. And if she’d bothered to save me, then she’d saved Turo. It felt a little sacrilegious, but I offered up a prayer of thanks to her for her help—and felt something that might have been the coy brush of a tail over my bound hands.

It was the only bright moment in my whole day. From then on, it was nothing but jeers, beatings, and being very thoroughly ignored by a bedraggled Queen Dian, who refused to look at any of us.

Embros’s laughter brings me back to the present. “Don’t bother expecting much from her,” he tells me. “She’s just sulking because things didn’t turn out the way she wanted.”

“What way was that?” I ask, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

“She and I began this adventure into the past together, you know.”

Dian does glance over now, her eyes filled with pain even though her expression is stoic.

“Our parents betrothed us in secret from a young age,” Embros goes on. “They thought it imperative that our cities unify to shore us up against the spreading influence of the independent towns that seemed to be springing up everywhere. For so long we exercised total control over every settlement within our spheres of influence, as was only right. But your city, and Zephyth even more so, stopped enforcing their domination.”

“Huridell has always been insular,” I point out.

“Yes, but you’ve also never allowed settlements within a hundred miles of your border before a few decades ago, and yet several have sprung up in recent years. A relic of your mother’s rule, I believe.” Embros’s mouth twists with distaste. “And Zephyth let go far sooner. The towns nearest to them had over a hundred years to grow, long enough for some of them to develop their own deities.”

Now clearly isn’t the time to tell him what Turo told me about a town in Embros’s own “sphere of influence” developing their lizard god. “What’s so bad about that?”

Embros sneers at me. “You have such a simple mind. There’s no deep learning in there at all, is there? There’s only so much power to be had in this world, Prince Eleas. The death of a mighty god created a magical wind that lasted for a millennium. As that wind died, I looked into the cause for it—it relates directly to the rise of new gods, leeching power from the rest of us.”

This is ridiculous. “Even if you’re right, that doesn’t mean our gods still aren’t mighty.”

“No, that’s true,” he agrees. “But where will it end? With power spread around for anyone to access? Ridiculous.

“I read as much as I could about Inarime before I attempted to visit it,” he goes on. It’s like he’s desperate to talk; I wonder if he said this much to Cam or if he thinks I’ll be more dazzled by his cleverness. “The first time I turned back once I saw the waterfall. My god is great, but his powers don’t extend to water or air. I knew I needed help.”

“So you took it to her.” I nod toward Dian.

“I opened my heart to her and begged her to join me in making our kingdoms great,” he says mockingly. “And she agreed because she loves me ever so much.”

“Fool,” Dian mutters. “I was such a fool to be taken in by you. You played a part the entire time.”

“And you swallowed it whole,” he agrees. “You begged Laigha to do my bidding, to carry me here. You two brought me to this place, you helped me decipher the inscriptions, and you agreed that the simplest way to activate the altar was blood sacrifice.”

“ Power ,” she corrects sharply. “Power is the way to activate the altar. That means worship and calling on the aid of our gods. That’s the best way by far to prime the magic in this place.”

“But this altar is already soaked in the blood of a god, and like calls to like,” he tells her. “Why waste my personal power when I can use someone else’s?”

I wonder whose blood he’s planning to use. Probably mine, piece of shit. But he needs me alive to call on Carnuatu—not that I will. It’s a conundrum I can’t see my way around right now; I’m just too tired. I stare straight ahead with blurry eyes, not looking at Embros or Dian any longer, just trudging up this slope and hoping against hope that Camrael and Turo either find a way to free me without harming themselves or get out clean.

The gate to the temple is open when we arrive. The temple looms tall, and it’s no longer noon, which means that shadows cover the ground, rendering everything cool and clammy. Embros leads the way now, striding with his head held high like he’s already the next ruler of Inarime.

The second we step inside the temple, the entire feel of the place changes. It’s not dark in here, despite the fact that there’s a ceiling above us; instead, the ceiling itself glitters with the sun’s light, filtering it down to us with no glare, just brilliance. The ground is dry, and the smell of algae seems to have stopped at the door. The columns lining the path we walk are a spectrum, from darkest midnight at the door through blue, purple, red, and orange, finally becoming pale yellow as we near the center of the vast room.

“Garish, isn’t it?” Embros says as we walk along. I assume he’s talking to me, since Dian has been here before, and he wouldn’t expect his men to answer anyway.

“Lovely,” I reply, because it is , in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s almost enough to keep my mind off the fact that the place we’re headed toward is white—or should have been white. Instead, the huge, three-sided platform is stained deep red, with only a few patches of the original pale marble showing through.

“I’ll change it all soon enough,” he goes on, then steps up onto the platform. The red color crisps and flakes beneath his boots. “Once the power of this place is energized again, there’s no telling what I’ll be able to do.”

He turns and looks—not at me, but at his followers. “Come up here,” he says to them. “We’ve got work to do. Shevara is off hunting down our escaped prince, but he’ll be back to escort another special guest soon enough.”

Wait, Camrael is being hunted by Embros’s snake god? Shit, is he—does he—I clutch the pearl, but I don’t get anything from it except a feeling of determination. Thank Carnuatu . If Shevara is looking for Camrael, he hasn’t found him yet.

“Dian, take Prince Eleas’s leash,” Embros goes on. “I wouldn’t want him to run when we’re so close to the end.”

I let her tug me back as the soldiers join Embros on the platform, but as soon as we have some space, I hiss at her, “Are you mad? No matter why you went along with it in the beginning, surely you see now that letting him go through with it will mean the end of your city’s independence?”

“I have no choice,” she whispers back, cutting her eyes toward me and away as quickly as a swipe with a blade.

“You fucking well do! Your god is still free, isn’t he? Just don’t call him here !” It’s as easy as that. I know I’m not going to do it, and if that means I die to keep Embros from rising to power, so be it.

“It’s not that simple! I can’t—”

“This was once a place of worship for the greatest power ever known,” Embros says, loudly enough that he manages to interrupt our conversation even though he’s not talking to us. “People knelt and prayed to the chimera here, and in exchange, it gave them many gifts. And then…” He gestures at the red on the floor beneath his soldiers’ feet. “They betrayed it by binding it and cutting it to pieces.”

He looks over at me. “You wonder why sacrifice is necessary here? I wondered that, too; in Inarime’s time of triumph, it wasn’t. But this altar has been polluted by the blood of its own god, and that has changed how its power can be accessed. Worship won’t do. Blood , though, blood to revive blood… That will do it.”

“Sire,” one of his soldiers says, shifting on his feet. “Do you want us to bring them up here so you can—”

“No, Captain.” Embros smiles at the man who dared to speak. “No, I’m afraid those two are quite irreplaceable. You all, on the other hand…” His eyes go green, and the power seeps from him and into the chest of every one of his men, tethering them to him. “It’s time for you to take your next step on the path to glory. Your blood will resurrect the very soul of a god . Feel honored.”

“Sire, please—no—”

All of his people go down at once, collapsing in a jumbled heap where they were just standing. Unlike before, the poison he’s wielding now seems to take time. They’re still alive—chests moving up and down, eyes rolling in their sockets, frantic and afraid.

“I’ll do it gently,” Embros promises. Then he pulls the long knife at his belt, reaches for the hair of the nearest man, lifts his head, and—

Slits his throat.

Blood sprays all over, dripping down Embros’s tunic, pooling at his feet. Unbothered, Embros lays the man back down so that his blood continues spreading across the floor instead of spattering into the air.

“Very good,” he murmurs fondly, then moves on to the next one.

I refuse to look away. These people killed my men and made Cam’s life hell in service to their mad king, and a part of me I can’t ignore wants to see them suffer.

By the time the fifth is dead or dying, the air has taken on the sharp smell of iron…

And the altar has begun to hum.