Page 39 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Iysa seems to freeze with the golden ropes of metal in her hands. “I-I dare not know, M-Mistress.” She bows deeply, dropping the rope and backing up several steps. “O-only the Gods know such a thing.”

My gaze narrows on her. “I merely asked so that I may know what is expected of me tonight,” I say, gentling my voice.

Somehow, the woman manages to supplicate herself further, nearly going onto her knees. “I-I do not know, Mistress,” she insists. “I w-was merely tasked with readying you for the Cleansing this night.”

“I understand, Iysa.” Keeping my tone light, I lift the folds of my dress and take a step away from both her and the mirror. “And you’ve done a wonderful job.”

There’s no point in pushing the poor woman any further; it’s clear she’s terrified that she’s done something wrong and knowing how Riviere Gods treated Terra—from experience—I can’t imagine the horrific punishments heaped upon the Terra here, or if they’re even given punishments at all. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to know that they kill any Terra that displeases them. It’d been enough of a threat in Riviere, though the execution of undesired Terra was at the discretion of Dolos.

Something tells me it’s more of a reality here than anywhere else. As if the cloud of death and decay is hanging over this entire island and its inhabitants. Somewhere in the Academy, a deepknell tolls the time, startling Iysa enough to jerk upward, eyes wide.

“I’ve taken too long,” she says. “I-I must go.”

I open my mouth—to say what? To tell her that it’s alright? That she will be fine? I can’t give her that assurance. So, I merely close my mouth and nod my assent to allow her to leave.

“All Mortal Gods are to meet at the entrance of the garden of statues,” she informs me as she gathers her things—pins and other such items that she’d used to bind the fabric to my body and for my hair.

“Wait!” I reach out as the door swings open, revealing the appearance of many other Terra hurrying from the rooms of other Mortal Gods like fleeing mice from a rising tide. Iysa’s entire face morphs into one of desperation, but she halts at the doorway and glances over her shoulder.

“Mistress?”

I gesture down to my bare feet. “What shoes am I to wear? I only have boots.”

She shakes her head, a few loose strands of black and gray coming free of the crown of hair atop her head to whisper around her face. “You must go to the garden of statues to be Cleansed free of all comforts,” she says quickly, nearly diving into the throng of others speeding past. “Now, I truly must go.”

Gods. I step up to the open doorway, watching as Iysa disappears into the veritable sea of Ortus, Perditia, and Riviere Terra hurrying on.

No one seems to pay any mind to the confused faces of the other Mortal Gods that come to their doorways, dressed much the same. My eyes find Kalix’s and then scan down his frame. My mouth dries up in an instant at the revelation that he’s no more covered than I. None of the Darkhavens are.

Ruen’s scarred chest is on full display as is Theos’ gleaming perfect skin. Kalix’smors palliumhangs on his hips, but it’sclear that the sheer style of mine is meant only for women because his as well as his brothers’ are far more proper … to an extent.

My gaze skims over the dips and valleys of his body, the shadows that align the sides of his abdomen and then carve into the notches of his hips where, instead of ropes wrapped around his waist, a flat gold belt circles just above the juncture of his thighs.

Held up by a fucking wish and prayer to the Gods,I think absently. Then I notice the loops of metal formed at the bottom of the gold band where layers of the extra fabric have been woven through to keep the clothing from falling completely off him. All it would take though is one single tug and I imagine the whole thing would plummet to the floor. Swallowing against the parched feeling in my mouth and throat, I finally tear my gaze away from the array of male flesh.

My eyes stop on the only door that remains closed. Maeryn’s.

As the last of the Terra scurry back to their true Masters or to perform their duties elsewhere, the four of us step out of our bedchambers. “She’s not coming,” I say as I look down at the black box still in front of Maeryn’s door. I’d heard the Terra outside her own room practically pleading to be allowed entry only to be turned away by quiet but stubborn refusals.

“No,” Kalix surmises. “She’s not.”

I glance at him sharply and he offers nothing more than a shrug before he lowers his eyes to my own garment. I follow his gaze and curse before reaching for the ropes again, intending to yank them free. They feel like heavy weights attached just to keep me walking as though chained from the front. Before I can manage to unravel even one from around my waist, the deep, vibrating knell from earlier echoes through the corridor.

“It’s time to go,” Ruen says.

Sweat beads pop up along my bared spine, naked save for the see-through fabric and the crossing straps of the top of my gown. I’m viscerally aware that I’m wearing no band or underwear. None were provided and Iysa had nearly fainted at the idea that I might put on something the Gods had not provided. Air wafts up the long, thin skirts and I close my eyes to repress the urge to turn tail and follow Maeryn’s example.

I don’t blame her for refusing to take part. If I had another choice, I’d do the same, but this is something we all must face. These rites the Gods have prepared for us … they mean something, and I have to find out what.

Opening my eyes once more, I fall in line with Ruen as Kalix and Theos take the lead. Ruen draws closer, reaching out to capture my hand in such an uncharacteristic move that I nearly stumble over my shoeless feet.

“I’ve told the others about the prison we found,” he whispers.

“I’m sure they were relieved to know that Caedmon is actually alive,” I say, keeping my voice just as quiet as his.

Ruen doesn’t respond for several moments. In fact, it isn’t until we’re about to enter the great hall, that he speaks again. “I told them about Ariadne as well, Kiera.”

My shoulders stiffen and I carefully extract my hand from his. “I see.”

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