Page 128 of Heir of Illusion

These were the worries that plagued me as I tried to fall asleep after Thorne left. Eventually, I gave up trying, deciding instead that I would put my theory to the test. If I return to the spot where I had the odd feeling and find nothing, then I can rest easy knowing it was all in my head. But on the other hand, if I do find something…

I stop those thoughts in their tracks, not ready to face them yet.

My impulsive plan was almost ruined before it even began when I remembered the way Kaldar had cut his hand open to unlock the door. Knowing I needed the blood of someone who’d been authorized to come and go from the tunnels, I dug through my closet searching for the ruined tunic I’d been wearing the day I got soaked In Kipps’s blood. Thankfully, when I smeared it over the stones in the dungeon, the door swung open.

A startled yelp escapes me as something scampers over my foot. Before I can unleash one of my blades upon the crawling menace, it darts into a tiny hole in the cave wall and disappears. My heart gallops as I jump back, scanning the area to make sure none of its little friends are waiting to ambush me.Fucking rodents.If this entire thing is one big joke the Fates are having at my expense, I’m going to find a way to kill those three sisters.

My palms dampen as I continue down the path, making it difficult to keep hold of my lamp. Not that it’s doing me much good since the damn thing only gives off enough light to cover a few feet ahead of me. The journey feels endless, but eventually, I come upon the fork in the tunnel where the lonely staircase waits for me.

The moment of truth passes swiftly.

Just like before, the collar’s reaction is immediate. The rubies warm against my skin, the heat pulsing in waves. Steeling my spine, I don’t give myself time to reconsider my reckless plan as I force my feet up the stairs. With each step I climb, the collar burns hotter. By the time I reach the top, my upper lip is damp with sweat and my breathing turns heavy.

Holding the lamp higher, I realize I’m standing in a small alcove. My forehead creases as I take in the cushioned chair that sits in the corner. Next to it is a small table stocked with a leather bound book, a bottle of spirits, and a single empty glass. While I find these items odd, it’s what’s across from them that turns my blood to ice. Even the heat coming off the collar is no match for the cold spreading through my veins at the sight of iron bars separating the other side of the room, blocking off whatever lies beyond it. Revulsion rises in my throat as my stomach threatens to expel the wine I drank at dinner. The truth of what this place is reverberates through my bones.

A prison.

Based on the angle of the chair and the lack of dust on the items left behind, it’s clear Baylor visits frequently. At least, I assume he’s the one who placed these things here. None of the guards would be that bold.

A flash of movement within the cell startles me, sending my lamp crashing to my feet. The flame flickers wildly, but thankfully, it doesn’t extinguish.

“Careful with that,” a feminine voice calls from within the darkness. “You don’t want to start a fire down here.”

Grabbing the handle of my lamp, I lift it toward the cell and try to make out anything about the space.

“I wondered if you’d come back,” the woman speaks again, her melodic voice closer this time.

My brow furrows at her words. “Back?”

The outline of a woman materializes through the darkness. It’s hard to know for sure, but she appears to be around my height, though her build is much slimmer. Almost frail.

“I sensed you a few weeks ago,” she says, her tone becoming unsure as she sighs. “Or maybe it’s been longer than that? Time has little meaning to me now.”

Her silhouette disappears, followed by the sound of shuffling as she rummages around for something. A few seconds later, another lamp flares to life, illuminating the cell. It’s much larger than I anticipated, and well furnished. Every inch of the floor is covered in rugs and a four-poster bed stands in the corner, covered in thick fur blankets. There’s also a seating area complete with comfortable looking couches and artwork hanging along the walls. I even spy a few bookshelves. Everything about the space feels lived in, as if someone has made this their home for quite some time. But that makes sense given how long she’s been down here.

The moment my eyes settle on the woman before me, I know exactly who she is. After all, I’ve seen her portrait many times.

Maebyn, the Goddess of Illusion.

Hair the color of moonlight hangs past her waist, the shade blending with her nearly translucent skin. Her lips are pale and chapped, and the cheekbones that were once her best feature have become gaunt and jarring, protruding too far from her hollow cheeks. The nightgown she wears is cleaner than I would expect, but it hangs awkwardly from her sunken frame.

Despite all of this, she’s still heartbreakingly beautiful.

Yet the most shocking thing about her appearance isn’t any of that. Instead I’m struck speechless by the sight of the ruby collar that hangs around her throat, an exact replica of my own.

Her indigo eyes watch me process this information, hungrily cataloging every expression that flashes across my face as she studies me the way I have her. Her lips part as emotion ripples across her face, but I’m too lost in my own racing thoughts to translate it.

How is this possible? The Goddess who’s been missing for twenty-five years is right here, caged beneath the palace that was once her home. Despite the questions racing through my brain, there’s one I don’t bother seeking an answer to. The moment I saw the ruby collar around her neck, it was obvious who’s responsible for all of it.

Baylor.

Just thinking his name is enough to send a wave of fury racing through my veins, burning away the shock and fear that had left me frozen. I bend one knee as I start to kneel, a show of respect for the Goddess before me.

“There’s no need for that, little one.” She waves her hand. “No one has bowed to me in years. Stand up, please.”

I rise, not wanting to offend her.

She watches me closely, almost warily. “When you came before, you were searching for thealmanova,correct?”

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