Page 61 of Fate Promised

Arrow leaped from the waves, rolling in the air, and she let out a small sigh of relief. Nothing called to her this time. This time.

His arm tightened around her waist as his muscles flexed. “I thought you were going to join him.” When she glanced up at him, she saw his jaw was tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek.

“I need to tell you something,” she said. He needed to know about her being a selkie.

“Can it wait until after I’ve patrolled the grounds?” He waved his hand. “Non-immortals perish down here.” With the same hand, he gestured toward the palace. “Magicwielders have no magic, so you and Fergal won’t have your powers. At least Koschei is of some use.”

“Sure, we can talk later.” Triska gazed up at the sky again. “There really are no suns here?”

Juri shook his head. “I think it looks like this day and night. A perpetual gray light.”

She wasn’t well-versed in the magic of magicwielders. All she knew was what Fergal had shared with her about how magicwielders tapped into the magic flowing from the second sun of Ulterra. Only when it was in the sky could they fill the stores of magic they possessed. If their stores were extinguished, like in a battle, they had to wait for the suns to recharge them.

Her own magic came at night and, through Fergal’s research, they’d guessed it flowed from the moons. She didn’t store her magic; it flowed through her, but it had a cost. It sapped her inner warmth, and if she didn’t stop and let herself recover, she’d pass out from the drain of her body’s heat. Fergal said the way her magic moved through her was closer to how the vae used their magic. But the vae were secretive, and he didn’t know much about it.

Juri ushered her back inside, but he didn’t touch her any longer, and when she stepped to brush against him, he moved away.

Juri turned to Koschei. “Stay here with Triska. I’m checking outside.” He spat the words out, bordering on rudeness. Without waiting for a response, he stalked away, his steps as clipped as his words.

When she was certain he’d walked far enough away not to hear, she asked Fergal, “What’s wrong with him?”

“The vulk are tough to read.”

She frowned. She’d always found Juri pretty straightforward. An ache pinged in her chest, and she rubbed it. Something was wrong.

24

Juri’s vision tinged red again. In deciding to run up to the cliffs, he’d almost gotten Triska killed, and now she was stuck in Peklo. Without a way out.

His hands clenched into fists as he re-entered the palace from the garden. The door opened and swung closed again after him on its own. He’d already explored the wings near the back of the palace earlier, with their ornate hallways with swooping arches leading into lavish bedrooms. The beds had overly filigreed headboards, all bearing Koschei’s crest. The rooms, the stone walls, even the lush linens on the beds, had all been preserved as if time stood still here.

He didn’t care if there wasn’t a speck of dust. All he cared about was that the walls were still secure. What he’d found showed whoever built this palace and its grounds, worked with stone as well as a vulk did. Iron wove through the marble in delicate threads, noticeable only if one were looking for it. Iron even threaded inside the thick panes of glass and along the hedge and gates of the grounds. The iron may be thin, but threaded properly, no immortal could crash through the glass. Iron weakened most immortals and monsters. A palace of this size, with a vast supply of iron all in one place, would make it impenetrable. And if a monster tried to get in, it would weaken rapidly.

And the windows were so narrow even he couldn’t squeeze through them. They were clumped together to give the illusion of being one large window, but they weren’t. Someone built them for protection.

All of Peklo smelled of brimstone, but the palace had a sulfur smell all its own, and as Koschei already showed, the palace itself had magic within it. As long as it helped protect Triska, that was fine.

A snarl ripped from his throat, hot and burning. Humans didn’t survive Peklo. Magicwielders punished to the depths of the underworld didn’t return. Well—except for Morana.

He ran a hand over his head. Uit, even Zann spent one hundred tense years battling his way through the underworld, hanging on to his life, and he was a vulk. Zann didn’t talk about his time down in the underworld much, but he’d described a few battles and mentioned how treacherous the land was.

At least Triska could sleep safely and in style before one of the spawn attacked her. And they would. It was only a matter of time.

The legends all said Peklo lay underneath Ulterra, a copy of the landscape above, and maybe the coastline was the same, but the land itself was far, far different. He halted and peered out one of the arched windows. The thin ribbons of iron were barely visible in the glass and didn’t spoil the view of the expansive coast, rising and falling in dramatic crimson buttes like small, decorated hills of stone.

Juri squinted at the coastline. Was it similar to Ryba? Perhaps. A hook jutted out into the water, creating a bay like the one in Ulterra, but the water here was still. Eerily still, the waves slow and languid upon the shore. The water was dark as if holding secrets.

Most likely secrets that would jump out and attack them later. At least they had the Herskala bowl. They could use it to show them Peklo and possibly a way back up to Ulterra. Or at least speak to the vae and tell them they were trapped down here. The tension in his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Thank Perun-above, Fergal took the bowl with him.

Juri returned to the others still near the front entryway and growled. “What monsters live near here? What do I need to look out for?”

Koschei’s brows shot up. “This was my territory. The others left it alone.” He waved his hand. “This is the forgotten borough. Not much lives here. It may have changed, but if you walk south from here, you’ll find the Fenix demon stronghold. I never had any quarrels with them. They keep to themselves unless they’re battling other demons.”

Juri’s shoulders still clenched with tension. “What about spawn?”

Koschei shrugged. “They roam everywhere. The only ones of any actual concern are the bauk tribes, and that’s because they have large numbers. But when I was a guardian, no one dared bother me.”

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