Page 237 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

Dozens of bald, pot-bellied little creatures with webbed feet surround me, watching through wide, curious eyes, their wings quivering. They haven’t lunged at me yet.

I’ve seen these things before, I realize then. Or something like them, painted within the mural in the temple in Orothos. “What are you?” Does Destry know they live up here?

They say nothing, but one after another, they raise their gangly arms to point toward the other end of the cavern.

With a wary eye on these creatures, I follow their direction. Clearly, they wish to show me something.

At the far end, resting within a stone cradle layered in straw and twigs, is a female with hair like raven’s feathers, wearing a shimmering gold and silver dress. Golden antlers claw at her chest, the points sinking into her flesh. A black dagger juts from her throat, embedded deeply.

She looks eerily like Romeria.

“Annika!” Tyree rushes through the opening, out of breath.

My pulse races as I charge toward him, into his waiting arms. “I am so happy to see you.”

He holds me against his chest, his fingers tangling through my hair. “Thank the fates you are alive. I heard you call my name and we started climbing.”

We? “Where is Destry?”

She steps in then, red-faced from exertion.

“We climbed all night. I heard you scream again now.”

“I did, but …” I frown, looking around. “Where did they all go?”

“Where did who go?”

“The little creatures. They were just here.”

“I don’t see any little creatures.” Tyree winces as he inspects my head. “That is a nasty lump, but it will heal.”

“I am not imagining things. I saw them! And there is a female here.” I think? Taking him by the hand, I lead him to the end.

Tyree’s grip goes slack. “Mother?”

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Tyree

I blink several times.

Am I hallucinating?

“That is Queen Neilina?” Annika stares at the still form embraced among straw and twigs, and I realize that, for all the hate she and her kingdom have long since stoked for my mother, she has never laid eyes upon her. “Are you sure?”

“That she is my mother? Yes, I am sure. That is her. That is her token necklace. That is … her body. She is dead.” A wave of numbness washes over me with my words. Dead … and in Udrel.

“What is she doing here?” Annika asks, voicing my inner thoughts.

“I cannot begin to guess.” But given all that has happened, namely Annika’s sudden and inexplicable lack of blood thirst, I can only imagine it has something to do with the fates.

Destry slinks in beside me to regard the scene, her hand clasped around her stones. “She is not dead.”

“Excuse me?”

She leans in, studying the body from this angle and then another. “She is not dead.”

“She has what appears to be a token blade through her neck and her own token embedded in her chest. Surely, you do not believe this.” Has the altitude confused Destry’s mind?

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