Page 151 of Of Blood & Stone

Vines bit into her flesh, cuts and scrapes blooming with blood. The vines moved in response to Nyla’s silent commands, forcing Sylzenya down the stairs. Elnok and Kharis followed, their grunts echoing along the stone walls. Sylzenya turned the corner with Nyla, and then light flooded a large, open cavern.

Massive clear orodytes lined the walls, ceilings, and floor like the stained glass in the temple. Falling from the ceiling were large wispy roots. More small clear orodytes dotted the deep brown branches, twinkling like stars.

The legends had been a lie.

Orodyte was still produced here.

Underneath the roots stood a tall orodyte pedestal, something large, dark, and pulsing sitting atop it. It thrummed rhythmically, a heart bleeding on stone.

Distrathrus’ heart.

Dark liquid dripped down the large piece of orodyte, pooling into a moat filled with glowing, golden liquid–Aretta’s blood. A sudden urgency rushed through her veins. It was right there, the thing she needed to spear through with her sword, and then everything would be done.

Distrathrus would be dead.

Clank.

Sylzenya jumped. A Dynami stood next to the heart, a large, glowing hammer in his hand. Muscles rippling, he swung the hammer down onto a table attached to the pedestal, another loud clank ripping through the cavern.

Sylzenya’s breath caught.

On the table was a yellow orodyte.

Another loud clank and the hammer shattered with the orodyte. The gold liquid spilled off the table and into the moat,gurgling and hissing as the pieces of stone and steel disappeared into its depths.

“Ah, Nyla, thank you for welcoming our long-awaited guests,” Distrathrus announced as he stood.

In the center of the strange cavern was a long golden table. Countless wine glasses littered its surface, chairs lined the table…

Filledwith people.

Distrathrus’ pale skin shone in the dimly lit cavern, his white robe etched with gold and splattered with wine—or maybe it was blood. Long, white hair fell to his waist, his straight nose seeming to bend in the stark shadow and light. His yellow, severe eyes pierced into her.

Welcome home,he whispered into her mind.

Sylzenya shivered, biting her tongue so hard she tasted metal.

“Dynameis,” Distrathrus said, “would you please remove their weapons? This is a celebration, after all. No need for more bloodshed.”

Elnok and Kharis cursed. Sylzenya closed her eyes, trying to connect to the vines.

But the barrier had returned, taller than before—thicker. No cracks were in its surface.No heartbeat thrummed through her body.

This had been a mistake.

Three Dynameis approached, each of them wearing bright glowing orodytes on their chest plates. One by one, they took their weapons, Sylzenya’s sword last. Desperation laced her veins as she lunged for it, only for the vines to pierce her wrists, hips, and thighs.

“Perfect.” Distrathrus smiled. “Nyla, if you could escort them to their seats? Except for Elnok, of course. Dynameis, you may restrain him.”

Elnok fought against the men as the vines released him, but the warriors were too fast and strong. Without his whip, Elnok was outmatched. Sylzenya’s stomach dropped at the realization.

“Sylzenya, I think you’ll be happy to see who I invited to join us tonight.” He said.

Sylzenya frantically searched the table; it was filled with Kreenas, each one with clouded vision and a gaping mouth. But it wasn’t until she turned her gaze to the two seats placed on either side of Distrathrus that she lurched forward. A woman with long ash-colored hair and dark eyes, and a man with a strong chin and her same deep blue eyes.

Her mother and father.

“Sylzenya—” her mother began, but Distrathrus shushed her. She obeyed.

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