Page 58 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

“Where is she?” The question comes out on a croak.

Neither Theos nor Kalix can answer. They don’t know.

A sound from the end of the corridor draws my attention and theirs as well. As one, the three of us turn towards the sight of Ruen there, a cloak covering the majority of his body and his face paler than usual as he holds the flattened shape of a satchel over one shoulder. He peers back at us, his brow pinched as he approaches.

“What are you—” He stops as he notices the splintered and open doorway. His eyes see what I’ve already seen. The emptiness inside. He releases a long, slow breath, his shoulders lowering before he turns back to the rest of us.

“I have information from Caedmon,” he says and I hate the clench my entire body makes at those words. I want to tell him ‘no,’ that I don’t care what Caedmon has to say unless it's in regards to Maeryn. She wanted to remain safe, to stay out of the path of pain and danger. I … wanted that for her too.

No one gets what they want here. The Gods have taken her for themselves and it’s probably too late. I’m always too fucking late.

No one returnsto sleep and a few hours later, the dawn washes over Ortus Island with a new message. The invisible bell tower chimes, luring all Mortal Gods from the pseudo-safety of their rooms to the grand hall and then further. As we follow the masses, I watch and stare at the sea of faces around me, wondering which one will be next. If it will be one of them or one of us. They are like sheep to slaughter, not a single one realizing how much danger they’re actually in, and I’m beginning to resent the idea of keeping them in the dark.

When I’d said as much to Ruen, he’d reminded me that they may not even believe the truth. When you are raised in a cage, you begin to fear the flight you were born for. Our wings are not so much clipped now as they have been completely removed.

I turn my eyes forward as we enter the assembly space. I don’t need wings to be dangerous. I have claws and teeth for that.

Taking my arm, Theos gestures for me to move to a row of bench seats in the same place we’d been before. Had it only been a matter of days since Azai had announced the Cleansing ceremony? What had Ruen called it? ATraiectusCeremony?—the name doesn’t matter, though, I suppose. Only the result, and the result is the weakening of our powers and Maeryn’s disappearance.

This time, it’s not Azai standing in front of the Mortal Gods of Riviere and Perditia. It’s a different God, another of the Council, this time a female. Gygaea, Goddess of Strategy, positions herself at the edge of the raised dais. My eyes narrow on her as she waits, face a mask of serenity as more and more Mortal Gods file into the hall and take their seats.

Normally, there’d be a low murmuring of sound—the quiet conversations of the students whispering to each other. I tear my gaze away from Gygaea to look at the crowd of people that have gathered. Now, there is nothing but silent shuffling and the sagging groans of wood under the weight of their bodies as they sit. Perhaps the sheep are becoming wiser. Perhaps they’re feeling the threat to their quiet, peaceful lives as serfs to the Divine Beings that they’ve served.

I look back to the dais as a second form appears there, some feet back from Gygaea. Makeda, Goddess of Knowledge, steps forward but remains a good distance from her Council member. She too has her hands clasped in front of her, but unlike Gygaea, her face isn’t nearly as serene. In fact, her hands are tight together rather than relaxed.

Makeda’s hair is a bit larger than normal, fanned out further from her head so that the crown holding it back and out of her face looks almost puny in comparison. Her lips are turned down with small lines etched around the corners and she practically glares at Gygaea’s back as the other woman lifts her hands to call attention from the room.

“Welcome, children,” Gygaea says, her voice soft and tinkling, but no less firm and sounding as Azai’s had been when he’d spoken here. I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding together as I ball my hands into fists in my lap. Theos reaches over and puts one of his over both of mine. I could laugh. As if his touch would stop me if I truly thought flying out of my seat and attacking a Goddess would help.

“We hope you are all recovered from the Cleansing ceremony,” Gygaea continues, the corner of her lips curving upward in a smile.

She knows. I work my jaw back and forth as my nails dig into my palms.

“The special wine we prepared often has ill effects on those with mortal blood, so if you still feel somewhat tired after its consumption, please do not fret. This is normal. The ceremony is still working on your bodies, removing the taint of this world so that you may become closer to the Gods.”

What. A. Fucking. Liar.

My nails pierce my skin and wetness trickles between my fingers. Ruen leans closer to me. “Stay calm.” His whisper is a warning.

Calm? I am calm. Thisisme calm. I don’t say anything as Gygaea goes on. She spreads her arms wide and smiles brilliantly, revealing the dual rows of sparkling white teeth set against the bronze skin of her face.

“Now, it’s time to announce our Second Rite of the Spring Equinox.”

Ruen’s nearness reminds me of what he’d told us after returning from the prison. A cold wash of air brushes over my skin, raising goosebumps on my forearms. I relax the hold of my fists, easing away from the torn skin and carefully keeping my fingers closed so as not to reveal the blood there.

Deep breath,I order myself.In and out. In … and … out.

At least now we know the truth instead of wondering what the Gods are planning. I should’ve considered asking Caedmon well before now about his damn book and if he would have any idea what the Gods are doing. Better late thantoolate.

Venatus,Ruen had called it. I breathe evenly, fighting against the racing of my heart and the need to take action as my eyes scan the assembly hall. Did they truly just send only Gygaea and Makeda?

“The Gods invite you all to participate in a special hunt that will take place tomorrow morning,” Gygaea announces. Movement behind her catches my attention and I dart my eyes back to Makeda.

As before, the rigid way the Goddess of Knowledge holds herself is obvious. Is she stiff-backed with regalness or with disapproval? As if she senses my attention, her eyes rise to meet mine. I’m struck by the crackle of lightning in her gaze, by the untamed power there that is just waiting to get out.

The tightness of her jaw eases as she gazes back at me. My head throbs with renewed pain, but it’s different from the ache after the night of the Cleansing. My hands contract against one another almost on instinct as if my bodyneedsmovement, but I know that to draw attention to myself right now would be detrimental.

Breath saws in and out of my throat, dragging the invisible life-giving air through phantom wounds inside. My lashes flicker as the pounding of my skull grows louder. I close my eyes, shutting off the conduit between me and the Goddess. The pain ceases almost immediately.

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