Page 42 of The Cruel Dawn
In the north, the realm hides beneath a cloud of red dust caused by a god-made sandstorm. Shit. I’ve been gone too long, and Zephar is punishing the province around him. He’s thrown tantrums like this before—when we were first imprisoned on Vallendor, he sand-stormed throughout Doom Desert for seven dawns.
Elyn shakes her head and leans out the window. “He’s such an asshole.”
“Which ‘he’ are you talking about?” I ask, smirking. I don’t wait for her answer and turn to face my uncle. “The Adjudicator can handle it, and she can find Danar Rrivae and give her big speech about truth and justice, and then she can kill him on the spot.”
I smirk and lean beside Elyn against the window ledge. “I’ll lend you the sword you lost to me.”
“Elyn can’t destroy the traitor alone,” Agon says. “Neither can you, Kaivara. Danar Rrivae can only be destroyed using the strength of the High Orders working together.” He nods to Elyn. “You represent the Eserime, Yeaden, and Onama.”
He nods to me. “Kaivara, you bring your heritages of all the five High Orders. Together, you are the collective. Together, you represent the Aetherium.”
I hold up my hand. “One of my titles is ‘Blood of All.’ If that’s true, why, then, do I need Elyn’s help with this?”
Agon chuckles. “Because you aren’t in good standing with the Council. Just as you can’t trust Jadon Rrivae, the Council can’t trust you, either. Further…”
He points to Elyn. “She is the Adjudicator of Vallendor Realm, and onlyshecan dispense judgment here. She’s not a warrior—there is no Mera in her bloodline. That isyourstrength, whoyouare, Kai. Together, you two are one, and that brings us all hope for victory—for Vallendor, for the Aetherium.”
He says nothing else and just looks at me.
Eyebrows raised, I ask, “Are you holding for applause? Am I supposed to now rush out onto the field, clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose, win this for the Aetherium?”
Agon the Kindness blinks at me. “Are you done?”
I break into a smile. “Almost. Because now I see what this is. Keep the Mera girl chained up like a hound until you need her.”
My uncle snaps his sleeves. “If you are to be completely restored, Kai, and also save Jadon—”
“Save Jadon?” I ask. “That’s possible?”
Elyn snickers. “This is why you need toshut upsometimes.”
“Ssh,” I say, holding up my hand. “How is that possible, Uncle?”
And why do I suddenly care?
“To do that,” Agon says, “we need two artifacts. WISDOM and TERROR.”
We follow him to a worktable weighted down by a massive, leather-covered book the size of a small quilt. He points to a drawing on a page: a book encrusted with jewel-colored glass, its four corners edged in red garnets, mother-of-pearl, emeralds, and topaz. The book’s center jewel looks blue, purple, and silver. A dark starburst sits in the middle of that stone.
I gasp and say, “I know this book. Olivia—”
“The thief who stole Kai’s amulet,” Elyn says to Agon.
The illustration hypnotizes me just as the real book did when I held it in the hayloft of Jadon’s forge in Maford. Olivia stole the book from the library in Castle Wake.
Agon taps the drawing’s center gem. “This artifact is known as WISDOM, and it locks the truth within theLibrum Esoterica.”
“Yes, I remember,” I say, “but the book isn’t with Olivia anymore. The book is with—”
“The redhead,” Elyn says.
“Right,” I say. “Philia Wysor.” To Agon, I say, “She’s the thief’s girlfriend.”
“And where is this Philia Wysor?” my uncle asks.
“In Caburh,” I say. “Living now with the Renrians.”
“What about the second artifact?” Elyn asks. “TERROR?”
