Page 134 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

I pull myself over the ledge, Tyree following closely after.

“The temple is built directly into the mountain. This is the top of it.”

I huddle in Tyree’s cloak but it does little good against the wind cutting through. And yet, naked candles burn bright from their crooks on the wall. “What happens here?”

“According to Destry, the mortal, it is where the conjurers seek guidance from the stars.” He points upward, bringing my attention to the ring of white stone pillars looming. How high they reach, I can’t tell. They vanish into the mist. “And that is the temple crown.”

I reach out to touch the odd white stone that makes up the cap of this mountain, illuminated in the candlelight. “Is there no one here?”

“No one who will bother us at this late hour,” Tyree answers cryptically, setting a hand on the small of my back to guide me forward, into the main area.

A small, round tarn sits in the center of the pillars, carved into the white stone, its glacial blue water shimmering as if lit from within.

But it’s the form who floats under the surface in the middle that turns my blood cold. “Who is that?”

“That is the last kal’ana to arrive in Udrel.” Tyree meets my horrified stare.

We edge in closer to get a better look at the naked skeletal body, the tissue and fat eaten away. Her skin is like soaked paper draped over bones, and wisps around her skull are all that remain of her hair. Chains bind her ankles and wrists to the stone, her arms and legs stretched out like a starfish.

“They call this their pool of life,” Tyree says.

“They keep death chained in their pool of life?”

At my question, the corpse’s eyelids peel open. Startling white eyes roll toward me.

“Fates,” I gasp. “She is still alive!”

“Barely.”

“How long has she been like this?”

“The sirens brought her to Udrel’s shores two thousand years ago. She was named queen. Technically, she is still Udrel’s queen.”

My jaw drops.

“The conjurers keep her living in this state to feed their connection to this light. She is elven. That is the secret, apparently. They’ve tried this with mortals but none survive. This one, though, has birthed children during her time here. Many, long ago, when she was still strong.”

A sinking realization hits. “This is supposed to be me next.”

“Kal’ana means sacrifice.” Tyree lets that hang heavy in the air.

“But … why?”

“Why do any of us suffer, Annika? Because casters existed here once, and we all know what happens when casters and kings are together.”

“They summon the fates,” I say on an exhale.

“And the fates answered by cursing these people. Every Hudem, or Azokur as they call it, select mortals change into demons. There is no rhyme or reason to who is affected. Child or elderly alike, anyone can turn. The Udrelians call it the demon moon,” he adds bitterly.

“As opposed to our blood moon and our blood curse.” Nausea claims my stomach. “This all comes down to another case of the fates meddling?”

“It’s how it started. But whatever these Azyr conjurers do here”—he waves a hand at the pool and our surroundings—“is to keep the curse at bay. And apparently, it has worked for thousands of years.” Tyree shakes his head. “This kal’ana’s life is all but depleted, and the curse is returning, getting worse each time. Now, on the night of Azokur, the citizens are required to chain themselves in their own homes until the morning and those who turn are executed, their bodies burned.”

“The bonfires in the village.”

He nods.

“There were so many of them.” So many limbs stuffed into the flames.

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