Page 24 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

I nod. "I have something else for them to do and I don't have many—at least, not as many as I did at Riviere."

"Why is that?" Theos asks.

Looking back at him, I offer him a grimace. "I don't know," I say honestly. "Ara is here and there have been a few that come to my call. I know there are more around, I can sense them, but it's as if a veil has been placed over them—as if they're already under someone else's command."

That has Ruen stiffening. "A God?"

I shake my head. "We haven't seen any new Gods here," I point out. "If the spiders were attracted to one of them then they would've been at Riviere as well. It might be one of the Mortal Gods from Perditia though."

Kalix presses an open-mouthed, wet kiss to my hand before lowering it. "I will send one to the God Queen," he says, "and whatever she may be hiding will be revealed."

Chapter 12

Kiera

Long after everyone has retired to their new accommodations for the night and the sun has set, I remain awake, staring out of the window in my bedchamber. It was a fortunate discovery to find that it doesn't face the ocean as I'd anticipated. Instead, the narrow sliver of glass peers into a darkened garden below with pathways for people to travel between buildings. The Darkhavens and I had spent the better part of the afternoon attempting to map the winding corridors and strange openings of the Academy to no avail.

Unlike Riviere, there seems to be no rhyme or reason to this place. We'd found long hallways that led nowhere but dead ends, towers with no doors leading in or out, and gardens full of half-dead hedges. The further one travels down the hallways in search of an end, the farther any destination actually seems to get.

The most disturbing of all the discoveries, however, was the garden of statues. When one thinks of a 'garden' they imagine plants and life, but the garden of statues resembles nothing of the kind. Surrounded by archways and pillars of chipped and decaying stone, it was full of grotesque monsters from allmanner of fairytales. Giant bat-like creatures with talons and large, arching wings. Various men and women in all stages of fear and decomposition. From a woman dressed in finery, her beautiful young face that of a serene maiden on one side and nothing but a skeleton on the other, to a man curled into himself upon the ground, bones and weapons jutting from every part of him until you could hardly tell that it was a man beneath it all.

I bend my head towards the window and let the cool glass touch my cheek. Lifting my gaze from the garden below, I contemplate the sky above, wondering if Regis and Ophelia have found Carcel by now or if he's found them and killed them. My heart beats a rapid drum in my chest.

"Don't," I warn myself, closing my eyes against those dark thoughts. Perhaps it's the air of Ortus Academy, but there's something so ... disheartening here. As if all of the cruel, wicked nightmares one has ever thought are possible here. There are no dreams, only horrors.

A tapping noise drags my attention from the window and the shadows below. Ara is perched at the end of the perfectly made bed that I'd slept in the night before. Knowing that a Terra had stopped by to clean up my things and remake the bed has me on edge. Other than Nubo and Zalika and the few Terra that serve the Mortal Gods, I haven't seen enough Terra in Ortus that were not brought here by their Masters in the other Academies to warrant extras to 'clean' the bedrooms. Then again, 'clean' is a bit of a stretch considering that the cobwebs and dust still coat the floor and ledges and it's truly only the newly made bed that reveals the fact that someone was here.

I leave the window and stride across the room to my Spider Queen. As I draw closer, she circles herself on the flat blankets and taps her feet insistently against them. With a frown, I lean over and offer up my hand. She practically leaps onto my palm the second it's within striking distance and as soon as her furrylittle body touches me, a kaleidoscope of emotions and images assail me.

"Ugh." Pressing my free hand to my aching temple, I slump onto the bed. "Slow down, Ara. I can't..." My words drift off as the images she's sending me become clearer. Chunky stone walls arching into a long, dark, and narrow tunnel. Broken webs drooping from the corners of ceilings with so much grime and dirt on them that their original color has become a mixture of grave brown and algae green.

"You found it?" I blink as more of her thoughts drift into my mind, curves and passageways. A door hidden in the shadows, larger than life to this small creature, but to me—it's simply a door, and where there is a door, there is something to hide behind it.

Standing abruptly, I turn and deposit my familiar back on the bed before patting her head. "Good job. I'll go check it out."

The door to my room creaks open. "Go check what out?" Ruen stands there, arms crossed over his massive chest, and an arched brow as he flicks a look between Ara and then me. "What did your familiar show you?"

I grimace. "It's?—"

"Tell me that it's nothing and I will be forced to tie you down and spank it out of you," he says before I can finish my sentence.

I clench my hands into fists at my sides. "It's none of your business," I snap defensively.

Ruen leaves the doorway and drops his arms as he strides across the room, not stopping until I'm forced to tilt my head back to keep our eyes locked. Though I'm not small by most standards, he still towers over me and it creates a feeling of unease no matter how strong and capable I know myself to be.

"Don't patronize me, Kiera," Ruen murmurs, his voice low, but silken in its dangerous quality. "Everything about you is my business." He reaches up, a single hand hovering near my cheekbut not quite touching. It bothers me how much I crave to lean into him. I find myself swaying on my feet, nearly doing so against my better judgment. "What news did your spider bring you?" he demands.

"It's not news," I begin. "It's just..." Unable to hold his gaze any longer, I tear my eyes away and glance back to the bed, but Ara has already disappeared, fleeing to somewhere in the shadows no doubt.

Traitor,I mentally cast out towards her. The responding tapping against the wall behind my bed is the only answer I get.

Ruen's finger touches my jaw, nudging insistently as he brings my face back around so that I'm compelled to meet his eyes once more. "Tell me."

Perhaps it's the quietness of his tone or maybe even the bite of awareness that slithers through me when his flesh is on my own, but those two words are all it takes to break down the last of my resolve. He wants me to tell him, so I do. I tell him about the dreams, about the fears in my chest and the wondering if perhaps, somehow, someway, Caedmon isn't actually dead, but insteadhere. In Ortus.

When I'm done spilling my guts in a way that no one has ever managed to make me do—not even Ophelia with all of her torture training—Ruen's expression hasn't changed a bit. He remains just as aloof and dispassionate in his expression as he was before. It's only in the small movements he makes, the way his fingertips seem to glide up and down the side of my jawline as if he can't quite pull himself away from me, that tell me he's anything but indifferent.

"Your spider brought you something that tells you that whatever prison you found exists here, didn't she?"

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