Page 92 of A Haven of Brimstone and Darkness

Perhaps it’s due to what Makeda had taught me or perhaps it’s because of what Caedmon had revealed—this secondary power of mine, the one that came from my father, is different than Ariadne’s. It’s a power that is as quiet as it is ominous. Now that it’s been awakened, though, there is no going back.

I see it all now. The truth these false Gods have been shoving in our faces our whole lives.

An echoing bell chimes and all of the fires go out, casting the garden into a sea of pitch black. Gasps of surprise and fear rise up around us. I remain silent, waiting. A second later, the bell chimes again and the fires burst back to life to reveal that the Gods are standing before us once more—three of them.

Tryphone. Azai. Gygaea.

My blood sings inside my veins, calling for retribution. My skin tingles. I lift my gaze up and up some more until I meet eyes not unlike my own. I’d like to say I see no resemblance to my grandfather, the God King, but now that I know the truth of my lineage, I can see the features that belong to Ariadne, and therefore, me. His might be more masculine, but the tilt of his eyes and the straightness of his nose equal my own. That doesn’t matter. My eyes descend to the chest he has on display. My lips tighten before curling upward. Tryphone isn’t just smug, he’s arrogant. Like the rest of us, he has dressed in anothermors pallium.

Death comes for you,I think to myself.It comes tonight.

“Welcome!” Tryphone calls out, raising both arms. “To the Feast!”

There’sno sign of Ruen as the ceremony begins. No sign of Caedmon or Ariadne or Makeda or Danai either. I expect the ceremony to be lavish with much talking from the Gods still on the platform, but it’s not. Aside from announcing the start of the Feast and encouraging everyone to eat from the provided ‘food,’ Tryphone and the other Gods merely go to their own table and drink their wine.

Closing my eyes briefly, I reach for that small door in the back of Kalix’s mind that still connects him to me. I whisper into it and after a moment of absolutely no response, his hand trails down my forearm as he walks away. My eyes reopen and I focus on the setting before me.

Maeryn approaches the table and starts reaching for a plate, her hand trembling. I reach out and grab her wrist. “Don’t,” I warn her.

Her one good eye widens as she looks up at me. Her hair has been pulled back to reveal the new scar on her face and the fact that one eye no longer works, but the healing has thankfully finished. Other than the line that splits her skin and the milky fog of her iris, she looks much the same as ever.

“I-I don’t think they’ll let usnoteat,” she whispers.

I shake my head regardless. “Trust me,” I tell her. “You do not want to eat this food.” For that matter… “Don’t drink anything they bring you either.”

Something touches the surface of my mind—a flash of bodies atop one of the granite stone tables of the garden, blood and soot and stone dust coating pale and tan skin that merge together as one. My own body tightens in response, my core seizing and pulsing as if recalling something my mind has forgotten.

I shake my head and ward off the sensation as I focus on the reality before me.

I don’t feel weak anymore. My wrath has boosted my confidence and given new light to the power my father passed down to me. Even I have to admit that I must have been born for this. As Caedmon said, only I can kill Tryphone. Where other Mortal Gods received their powers from their own souls, some only marginally connected to their God parents’, I hold both of my parents’ abilities within me.

A shadow scurries from beneath the table and to the bare toe of my foot. Ara creeps onto my leg and then quickly scuttles up the side of my leg not stopping until she manages to leap from my thigh to my hanging arm and race the rest of the way up.

“Come on,” I say, turning away from the table. I drag Maeryn after me and the others follow.

I can sense the Gods’ eyes watching me, waiting for me to do something.

“Do you have a plan?” Maeryn asks.

Ara’s foot taps insistently on my bare shoulder, images sliding from her little mind into mine. I inhale sharply. I have more than a plan. I have a way to kill the God King. Finally, I know how to hurt him, but first I need to make sure Ruen is safe, and most importantly, alive.

“I don’t think so.” Maeryn’s arm is ripped from my grasp as she cries out. Whirling around, I find Zalika gripping Maeryn’s long red hair, digging her nails into my friend’s scalp until rivulets of blood drip down the side of her face. “I believe the Gods invited you tofeast.” She shoves Maeryn back towards the table and stands between us, daring me to go through her.

Despite the obviously clear night overhead, lightning tears across the sky, ripping the darkness in half as it crackles. Zalika’s dark look shifts from me to Theos. “I would not try anything,were I you, Darkhaven,” she snaps. “Your father wishes nothing more than to punish you the same as your brother.”

“Whatever pain he has felt, I assure you, I will deliver it tenfold,” Theos replies, his expression far darker than I’ve ever seen it. His throat pulses with his racing heart, sweat coating his body. How much power had he lost on the night of that first ceremony and is he draining himself with using what he has left?

I touch a hand to his arm and immediately feel the tension in his body ease. Silently, I offer him my presence, and the strike of lightning that had been ignored by most despite its obvious mismatched appearance with the stormless sky evaporates.

“Where is he?” I demand, stepping forward and reclaiming Zalika’s attention.

Maeryn shuffles behind Zalika, her eyes wide and lips parted as Niall hurries to her side. I jerk my chin in a silent command to go—to flee. She hesitates but then just as quickly nods and turns, she and Niall slipping between the bodies of those congregating at the tables full of cannibalistic offerings.

“He will be along shortly,” Zalika replies.

I step closer. “I may not have a blade, Zalika,” I say, keeping my voice even and low as I let my gaze drift up from her throat to her eyes and back again, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t have teeth and claws. Be very careful with how you answer my next question—those ‘Gods’ of yours wouldn’t save you from me if it amused them to see you die.”

“You cannot kill me.”

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