Page 46 of Damned and Broken Gods
“That’s the plan,” Erabi said.
Then I’d ascend…Be able to free Araz…My throat tightened, breath coming fast, and it hit me that ascension right now wasn’t what I wanted.
Not at all.
“Right, then.” Erabi clapped her hands together again. “Let me walk you through what will happen.”
I looked over at Araz to see my emotions echoed on his face but only for a moment. He shut it down fast, but it was enough to give me hope. Hope that maybe he wasn’t so eager to leave me after all.
It wastime to depart too soon, and for the first time in weeks, Araz wouldn’t be by my side. A portent of things to come? Probably.
“Lock your knees and stand firm,” Araz said. “You can do this. I’ll be right here when it’s over.”
I wanted to hug him goodbye, but it felt awkward to do so with Erabi standing right beside us. “I’ll see you soon.”
I followed Erabi into the midday sun and to the waiting carriage.
It set off as soon as the doors closed, and Erabi sat back in her seat with a smile. “You were brave last night, and you will be brave today. They aren’t better than you, Leela, just…different.” She blinked sharply and fixed her gaze out of the window. “We’ll take the Prakaash Maarg. It will transport us to the bowels of the domain.”
“Bowels? That doesn’t sound healthy.”
She giggled. “I suppose not. The proper name is the Phavvara, which means fountain. It’s where the throne sits.”
“Wait, the throneisn’tin the palace?”
“No, Leela. The throne is…Well, it’s more than a seat. It’s an entity. An ancient force that predates even the gods, and the domain is built around it.”
The carriage jolted, and light spilled in through the windows. My stomach dipped, but this time, there was no nausea, thank goodness.
I took a breath to get used to the sensation of falling before continuing. “So the throne…are you saying it’s always been up here? In the sky?”
She shook her head. “No, we believe that the deva moved it here before they left. For safety. To ensure that the gods could thrive.”
“The godsneedthe throne?”
The carriage jolted again, and then regular forward motion took hold.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m just quoting what I’ve read in ancient scripture.”
“So pari are allowed access to the libraries here?”
Her eyes flinched. “We have our own records. But never mind that. Look, we’re here.”
I got the impression that she’d slipped up somehow and was backtracking, but all thoughts of pressing her fled when I caught sight of our destination.
We approached a mountain made of black rock that captured the sunlight, using it to cloak itself in a misty sheen of gold. Two sets of golden doors stood partially open, waiting to swallow any who dared enter.
We clattered closer, and the mountain grew until we were in its shadow, bathed in its presence. The carriage came to a halt outside the doors.
“You’ll go in alone,” Erabi said. “Through the grand arch and into the sanctum. The Authority and the throne await you.”
She leaned forward and popped open the door. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I took a deep breath and climbed out.
If the palace was the pinnacle of the Shahee Kshetra, then this obsidian stone was the foundation of it. The domain had sprung from it, growing outward and upward to surround it, to feed off it and protect it. The truth of it hummed in my bones, every hair on my body trembling in awe as I approached the epic golden doors—two feet thick and twenty feet high. I slipped through the gap and into gloom lit by soft red light radiating from crimson fractures embedded into the stone, like veins carrying the lifeblood of this place.
It felt like I was stepping into a mouth, onto a stone tongue that gobbled up the sound of my boot falls. The grand arch waited patiently, the space between its pillars a blanket of stars. A veil of some kind?
