Page 94 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t, because these are all the same thoughts and trepidations I’ve carried with me from the moment I stood on that dais in the Kur and chose the spear over the key. Sometimes, in the darkest moments, I’ve wondered if I should have made the other choice.
Aglaope gives me a knowing smile at my silence before turning back to the page, tapping the vial to add a little more liquid to the parchment. It glows brighter, showing more of the hidden text. “The Nephilim may not have needed theushgada, but they did need you to retrieve the Deathfate stone. The cavern you found it in was at the base of an island in the Black Sea. They intended to take you to retrieve it. When they did not capture you in the Shadow Realm, they knew you would require a Resurrectionist eventually. Their spies had already told them you had killed Imogen, of course. They have their ears tuned to every whisper, my love, even within the Guild of Gilgamesh. All they needed to do was wait for the request to be made through the apothecaries and for it to be released from their vault. Theushgadawould lead them straight to you and the first stone. But they did not count on my clever sister slipping through their fingers,” she says, her eyes landing on mine once more. Her smile is warm with affection. “More proof that we have been chosen by the fates to supplant them, do you not agree?”
I don’t answer as Aglaope turns her attention back to the page, replacing the first vial in her pocket as her eyes skim the text again.
“I had captured Barbossa Sarno before I ever struck the deal with Davina for her to harvest the demigod,” she says, pulling the questions I want to ask from my stunned silence. “He was the one who told me a demigod lived near Évora, that he was named Dimitrios, great grandson of the goddess Gula. Barbossa had killed Davina’s parents shortly before I captured him. When your husband told Davina of the existence of a demigod, she in turn told her mother, and Barbossa stumbled upon the information in the process when he took their lives.”
“So you placed yourself in Davina’s path,” I say, as though fog is lifting to reveal a hidden realm. “You already knew about the existence of the demigod when you showed up in Évora, so Davina didn’t have to share information she shouldn’t have known in the first place to get what she wanted. It made her more receptive to what you had to offer.”
Aglaope gives me a slight nod and a proud smile.
“But how did you know what to use the harvest for?” I ask.
My sister unstoppers the vial of powder. She holds it over the page, the parchment still lit in a gentle glow, and begins to tilt the ampule. “Because I never forgot where we came from, or what we were created to do.”
The powder hits the page. It crackles and sparks and lifts the words away, turning them to silver smoke that rises from the parchment. I watch as Aglaope gathers her long hair in a hand to hold it back from her face as she leans forward. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath of the smoke. She inhales every wisp of script that curls from the page. When the last letter is gone, the last breath taken, my sister falls.
CHAPTER36
Aglaope slams down on her back as she seizes, her limbs contorting, her heels digging into the earth. Her teeth clatter as her body trembles. The ward still stands between us and I press my palms to the surface, slapping it until my skin burns with the impact, until I form fist and pummel it with punches that do nothing to dislodge the strong magic. I slump down, powerless to do anything but watch as Aglaope continues to convulse on the cold, damp ground. Thin channels of blood flow from her nose and ears and the corners of her wide, unseeing eyes. I whisper into the pendant again for Ediye, but I can feel the magic of the summoning hit the barrier and reflect back to me, bouncing through the small space until it disperses.
“Aglaope…what have you done, sister?”
Time feels endless. There’s nothing I can do to help my sister. Whatever she’s done is tearing her apart from the inside out. Sweat coats her body as though she blazes with a sudden fever. Her hair catches the blood trailing across her skin to paint patterns across her cheeks in the sudden wind. I press my fingers to my temples, too afraid to watch but just as afraid to look away. “I can’t lose you again, Aglaope.”
The convulsions become thrashing, desperate movements. A loud groan resonates in Aglaope’s chest. It gets louder, and higher, and turns into a scream, a piercing sound so loud that I cover my ears and curl into myself. I press my eyes closed and cry out, and when I think the sound of Aglaope’s torment is going to be the last thing I ever hear, there’s a loud crack.
Silence.
Another crack. A smaller one. Another, louder this time.
I slowly take my hands away from my ears and open my eyes.
The instant I do, I scramble back to the furthest edge of the globe.
My sister’s eyes are open, blinking but not seeing, her face serene. Except it’s upside down.
Her body is contorted, one leg pressed against the ground with the knee bent the wrong way. Her shoulder looks dislocated. Her neck is broken in at least two places, forcing her blank expression toward me at a nauseating angle. A loud crack shifts her broken leg into place but dislocates her hip in the process. I cover my mouth as tears fill my vision. Bile churns in my stomach as one of Aglaope’s hands presses into the dirt and her humerus slides back into its socket with a snap.
I vomit at the edge of the sphere.
Crack, crack, crack.
Aglaope stands, her spine tilted at an impossible angle. A broken elbow cracks back into place. Something in her pelvis snaps and she lurches forward. I press myself against the dome when she takes another unsteady step in my direction and feel my hand slide through its barrier. It’s weakening.
Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack.
I grip my pendant as though it’s a talisman.
Ninmen Eslal. Ninmen Eslal.
I keep whispering as every vertebra clicks back into place and Aglaope straightens. A deep breath fills her lungs, shifting several ribs back into place. When she exhales, her eyes drift closed. She opens them again and blinks, looking around before her gaze lands on me. “That was…deeply unpleasant,” she says with a little shudder.
“You don’t say.” I stand as the dome dissolves around me, though Aglaope seems unconcerned with its absence. Something about that is nearly as off-putting as the cracking bones. She withdraws the fate stones from the bag and my heart lurches as she looks toward the archway.
“We were made to serve the gods, but where are they now? They left these realms long ago, and yet still we feel the pull of purpose. For what? Why?” Aglaope gestures to the crumbled stone foundations that were once our cottages, a little village of forgotten women, a place where we developed kinship with our sisters. “Mountains have crumbled around us, and yet we remain, just the two of us. We have withstood the ages, unblemished by time. Imagine it, Leucosia. We could bring our sisters back. No more enemies with knives at your back. No more threats looming like thunderclouds above the raging sea. We can have everything we ever wanted.”
“I do already,” I say. My eyes sting with unshed tears. “I got you back, Aglaope. There are good people who depend on me. They depend onus. We may not have asked for this responsibility, but it is still ours to carry out.”
