Page 103 of The Blood of Gods and Monsters

Ruen and Kiera step out onto the stairs and I take a moment to shake my head before following them.

Kalix is the one that finally answers both of our questions. “The Academies of Riviere and Perditia are being summoned,” he announces as people spill around our bodies, ignoring the way we’re all stock still amongst them. Cool green eyes turn to lock each of us with his stare. His pupils are dangerously slitted. Just like a snake’s. “We’re all going to Ortus Academy.”

Chapter 44

Kiera

To know yourself well is to know your worst enemy because only you can decide what will make you suffer the most.

And I know. I know it all.

The board we’ve been playing upon has been uneven and murky thus far, but now I see it in crystal clarity. Jagged sharpness has opened my eyes.

The Darkhavens hover around me, ushering me this way and then that. I don’t pay attention to the movements of my body as my mind transcends the physical. Somehow, beyond the reins of my consciousness, I find that I trust them implicitly. With my body, with my soul, and my life. I close my eyes and just breathe for several long seconds. Those seconds turn into minutes, into hours, into eternity, but when I reopen them, I know that only a small amount of time has passed.

Panting. Sweating. My skin feels as if it’s crawling. I’m out of breath. We’re out of time.

Ara? I reach out with my mind, seeking something familiar. Ara, are you there? Answer me.

Nothing comes back. I try again and still … nothing.

When panic seizes my chest, I reach out and latch on to Ophelia’s training, but it all … just … slips … away.

“—iera? Did you hear me?” Hands cup the sides of my face. I don’t recognize where we are, but we’re no longer in the arena, no longer outside. It’s too dark here. Too closed in.

The face before me is familiar. So, too, is the voice those words are spoken with. Sunburnt eyes the color of liquid gold bore into me. “Kiera?” His hands are cool upon my skin. I have to warn him. I have to warn them all. We need to get out of here. We have to leave. The Gods … oh dear fucking Divinity. We’re in so much danger.

The pieces have clicked into place. The missing Mortal Gods. The book with the names crossed out. Caedmon … I understand now why he wouldn’t—couldn’t—tell me the truth. I shut my eyes and wish I could shut out the whole world.

Be careful what you wish for, isn’t that what people say? I pushed and I hunted and now, I know the truth. It’s as if I had a shroud over my head for so long, fighting my way through the world, squinting to recognize faces distorted by fabric. Tears burn at the back of my eyes.

I was a fucking fool. I thought I was so strong simply because I knew how to use a blade. I assumed that because I’d suffered that there wasn’t anything worse. There always is.

“Do you understand what we’re telling you, Dea?” Theos’ voice is back and I open my eyes, fixing my attention on him for a beat and then glancing over his shoulder to the two shadow-like men hovering behind him.

“What?” The word is a croak and it sounds nothing like me.

Theos’ brow furrows. “We have to get ready,” he tells me. “The Gods are sending us all to Ortus—Ortus Academy.” No. Reaching up, my nails sink into the backs of his hands on my face. “Fuck!” He releases me and when he yanks himself back I see that there are streaks of blood on his skin.

Stumbling back, away from him, I bump into something. It slams into the back of my legs and sends me careening to the floor. Ha. Some assassin I am. Pathetic. I don’t even bother to get up off the floor. I just lie back and let the tears trail from the corners of my eyes to my temples and into my hair. We’re all fucked. Every single one of us. Not just the Darkhavens and me, but the entire race of Mortal Gods.

“What’s wrong with her?” Kalix demands, hard anger in his tone.

Warm hands touch my face and hands, feeling for … what? A physical wound to explain this breakdown? Nothing physical could ever have ripped me apart this badly. The moment we’d walked into that damned arena, I’d felt the pressure of Tryphone’s abilities. At first, it had hovered at the fringes and then it had burrowed, deeper and deeper still, until it had reached the darkest parts of my mind.

His power had wrapped me in chains, in claw-like tendrils that had refused to let go even when I’d fought against their hold. He’d trapped me in my own fucking head, held me in place just so I could feel him penetrate my innermost core. My lips curve, though, as I remember what I’d done next.

Block after block had been thrown in his way. Barriers made of shadows and webs. Walls of brimstone and darkness. Maeryn—oh, how I wondered if she could help me. She’s a healer, after all. Just the thought of her had given me all that I needed though. Healers took what was before them and used it to their advantage. They aren’t fighters, so their best offense is defense. Instead of blocking Tryphone, I’d taken down each boundary, each wall. Then I went after him. The link had been opened and just as he was able to get into me, I was able to get into him.

Sickness churns in my gut at the cold recollection. So many years and pain and despair, but above all was the constant desire, the yearning for dominance. For power. He’d deflected, of course, but not before I’d taken the last clue I needed to find the truth.

Dark midnight eyes appear over me. “Kiera?”

Parting my lips, I stare back into Ruen’s face even as more wetness runs down my temples and I just breathe. I’m not crying because of the ache still lingering in my head. I don’t even know why the tears won’t stop. Flashes of Tryphone’s memories—dark, horrid places full of the putrid stench of death and decay, pale faces with sunken eyes, glistening blood shining off ribcages that had been ripped open and bared. Skeletal frames leached of all life. Young ones shriveled into ancient husks.

“Kiera, what happened in the arena?” Ruen’s calm demeanor helps me to get my racing thoughts under control.

“Tryphone,” I say, voice cracking. “He tried … to get into my mind.” I have to command my body to do things that I would normally do on instinct. Swallow. Salivate. Lick lips. Talk. “I took his … instead.”

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