Page 240 of The Ascended
My mouth felt dry. Every word I was about to speak could have been my last. But Thatcher's life hung in the balance, and I had mere hours before the final trial.
"I know about the resistance."
Morthus went utterly still. His gaze crawled to Xül.
"Tell me, Miss Morvaren," he said, "what exactly do you think you know? And please, be specific. I do so hate vague accusations."
I swallowed hard. "I know that there are those in the divine realm who oppose Olinthar. Who want change."
"Many want change." He took a sip from his glass. "Want is common. Action is rare."
"I know you're among those willing to act."
"Do you?" He turned finally, those dark eyes boring into mine. "And what makes you think I'm anything more than a loyal member of the Twelve, content with my domain and my duties?"
The question was a trap, but I had no choice but to spring it. "Because you're going to kill my brother during the final trial."
Morthus set down his glass with deliberate care.
"That's quite an accusation." His voice had gone soft, which was somehow worse than anger. "Tell me, what makes you think your brother is important enough to warrant such attention?"
“Because he has the power of Vivros.”
His eyes locked on Xül. "You couldn't convince me to spare his life yourself, so you thought bringing her here and telling her things she shouldn't know—things that now require her death—was going to change my mind?"
Xül's jaw clenched, but he didn't defend himself. Didn't deny it.
So, he had been telling the truth. He'd tried to save Thatcher. The knowledge should have brought relief, but instead it twisted like a knife between my ribs. The hurt was still there, raw and overwhelming, making it hard to even look at him. Because even if he'd fought for my brother's life, he'd still chosen not to disclose it. Looked me in the eye and pretended ignorance while knowing exactly what fate awaited Thatcher. What had been his plan? To just let it play out? To watch me lose the only family I had left?
"How disappointing," Morthus continued, his attention returning to me. "And how very like you, my son, to gamble with lives that aren't your own."
The silence stretched. Morthus moved to a table near his throne, pouring himself something dark from a crystal decanter. The casual gesture reminded me so much of Xül. I bit back a wince.
"Before you decide my fate, or my brother's fate," I said carefully, "you need to know who we really are."
One dark eyebrow arched. "By all means. I do enjoy a mystery."
I drew in a breath, preparing to reveal the secret we'd never planned to tell. Perhaps that had been naive, to think we'd make it through this whole ordeal without the truth coming out. "Thatcher and I are not blessed."
"Intriguing…" He raised a dark eyebrow.
"We're Olinthar's children."
Morthus studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "That's quite a claim."
"It's true," Xül said, stepping forward for the first time. "The alchemical proof is undeniable. When I taught her to create a ward, it turned golden."
Morthus turned to his son, his eyes merciless. "You've known this how long?"
"For a while."
"And you said nothing."
"It was not my secret to tell."
Morthus turned back to me. "Olinthar has no acknowledged children among mortals."
"Acknowledged being the key word," I snorted. "He forced himself on our mother. We were the result. And we've always known exactly who our father was—my adoptive father made sure we understood the monster who sired us."
