Page 106 of The Ascended
"No," I whispered, the denial automatic. "I wouldn't?—"
"You would," he said, his voice gentle but unyielding. "Or you would die. Those are the only options divinity allows."
Before I could respond, he raised his hand, tearing open the fabric between domains. The portal yawned before us, darkness beckoning like an old friend.
"Is that what happened to you?" I asked, unable to stop myself.
Irritation flashed across his eyes.
“I didn’t sacrifice all of my empathy, starling,” he said finally, extending his hand. "But enough that I survive."
I placed my palm in his, the contact sending an unwelcome spark through my veins. Together, we stepped into the portal, leaving behind the glittering facade of divine society and all its terrible games.
Darian's empty eyes following me into the darkness. As we emerged on the other side, the obsidian halls of the Bone Spire welcomed us with their cold embrace. But even here, in the heart ofXül's domain, I couldn't escape the chill that had settled in my bones.
"We leave for the Eternal City at dawn," Xül said quietly, his voice breaking through my thoughts. "There are matters I must attend to, and you..." He paused, studying my face. "You need to see more than just the glittering surfaces."
"Haven't I seen enough?" The words escaped before I could stop them.
His eyes softened. "What you witnessed tonight was merely the performance. Tomorrow, we glimpse behind the curtain."
Chapter 26
Thatcher
“We’re going to Pyros,”Chavore announced, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “Time you saw how gods celebrate.”
I’d spent the entire banquet playing my part—laughing at the right moments, asking the right questions, watching alliances form and fracture over glasses of wine that cost more than most mortals would see in a lifetime. My mind was full, processing everything I’d learned. All I wanted was a moment of quiet to sort through it all, a moment to reach for Thais through our bond to make sure she was surviving Draknavor. We hadn’t gotten to speak much during the festivities.
Instead, I found myself being herded toward a gleaming portal by Chavore, Kavik, Nyvora, and Elysia.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, mustering enthusiasm I didn’t feel. My hand found the small token Sulien had carved for me years ago, still hidden in my pocket. A reminder of why I was here, playing this exhausting game.
The portal spat us onto a steep mountainside, its black rock warm beneath my feet. Above us, a volcano crowned the mountain, smoke and sparks erupting from its summit at regularintervals. Ahead, a narrow path wound upward to a waterfall of lava.
“Welcome to the most coveted revel-hall in all of Voldaris,” Kavik declared, sweeping his arms wide.
I forced a laugh, though there was nothing funny about standing next to the god who had executed his contestant just minutes earlier. And now Kavik wanted to party.
The volcanic path burned against the soles of my boots as we climbed higher. This was Pyralia’s domain. Fire and passion. Sweat trickled down my spine, but none of the gods showed any discomfort. I couldn’t help but think of Saltcrest summers, how the whole village would move slower, the fishermen setting out before dawn to avoid the worst heat. We’d suffered together.
“Watch this,” Kavik said as we reached the lava curtain. He stepped forward, raised both hands, and the molten flow parted like water, revealing a tunnel beyond. “Security system. All are welcome, but only if escorted by a resident of Pyros.”
“Impressive,” I said, maintaining that lie of a smile I’d learned to wear.
We passed through the opening, and the roar of celebration hit me like a wave. Inside, the volcanic cavern had been transformed into a sprawling pleasure-den. Pools of lava pulsed with light in rhythm to music that seemed to come from the mountain itself. Divine beings danced across platforms suspended above magma, their movements fluid and uninhibited. Beings completely forged in fire crafted drinks that spit sparks and smoke alike.
“This,” Chavore said with a grin, “is where gods let loose.”
Kavik led us to a private alcove overlooking the main floor, where plush seating surrounded a table carved from volcanic glass. Servants appeared with drinks that smoldered.
I took a cautious sip. I needed to stay sharp, but refusing would draw attention. It tasted like liquid fire and cinnamon.
“So,” Chavore said once we’d settled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping to a tone that reminded meof the military commanders who’d sometimes visit Saltcrest. “Level with me, Kav. Was killing your contestant really necessary?”
The casual question nearly made me choke on my drink.
Kavik’s easy smile hardened. “You trying to tell me you’d have let that insult to your father slide? Come on, Chav.”
