Of Silver and Beasts (19 page)

He turns his back on me, and I can’t help the words that fly from my mouth. “I’m sure I don’t have to give you an excuse to harm me, mongrel.”

His form stiffens. “You understand nothing,” he spits over his shoulder before he walks to the head of our line.

I understand nothing? What am I supposed to understand? That the Otherworlders have resurfaced to abduct people for their Trade and sport. That they want every ruler in the Three Realms dead so there is no one to stop their tyranny?

But as I inhale and exhale labored breaths, forcing myself to stay calm as Caben’s hard chest presses against my back, a question breaks through my angered thoughts.

Why?

Why have the Otherworlders done this? If it were merely for mercury alone, then they’d have invaded our countries many times before now. They’ve been getting their mercury from somewhere, as their world doesn’t seem in want of it. And clearly they’ve been abducting people from lands outside of the Three Realms for their cage fights. I hardly think kidnapping the Nactue for their sport is worth the war they waged this past week against two countries.

So . . . why?

Before the full moon
.

Lilly spoke the same words as Carina when she was explaining about the Otherworlders’ invasion. Still, I don’t have any idea what it means. But this must be the missing link stringing everything together. I have to find a way to talk to Lilly in private.

“Kal . . . ?” Caben breathes my name near my cheek, drawing me back to the now. “Are you here with me?” His arms loosen their tight embrace, but don’t release me completely.

I take in a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine,” I say. And he finally removes his hold. The sweat-slickened skin of my arms, back, and waist are suddenly cold as the chilled air around me replaces his body heat. I shiver.

The sounds of the crowd—stomping and drumming and cheering—come flooding back. Then I’m acutely aware of the mercury swirling violently in my blood. When Caben attempts to turn me around to face him, I shrug off his hand. “Give me a minute.”

“Fine,” he says, exasperated.

“What would you have done if they were about to stun your best friend?” I ask him over my shoulder.

He’s quiet a moment, then says, “I didn’t realize she was your best friend. If I’d have known—I guess I would’ve held the brute while you wailed on his ugly face.”

The corner of my mouth twitches into a half-smile, and I chuckle. “Thanks.” The mercury slows in my bloodstream. My heart begins to beat at a normal rhythm. I check my wrist and watch the inky, tainted blood fade below my skin.

“Let’s go!” Bax shouts over the chaos of the city street.

The feather brothers move our line forward as the guards along the side of the road open the chain barricade. I walk steadily beside Caben, but glance once behind me to spot Lilly. She walks among her league, head held high. I smile, though I hope she doesn’t allow her attitude to get the best of her here. She needs to go along with things until we have a plan.

Before I turn around, I glimpse Kai walking in Lilly’s league. I say a silent prayer of thanks to the goddesses for keeping them together. I can’t find Willa or Van, so I assume they’re Collar’s contenders. With another prayer for their safety, I face forward and enter the narrow street with my league.

My heart aches for the fallen Nactue. Before my time expires down here, I’ll not let Missa’s, Carina’s, and the other former Nactue’s deaths go unavenged. We’ll find a way out. And we’ll stop the Otherworlders. Whatever their plans are, whatever their sick minds are plotting, we’ll end it.

My eyes flick over the prince’s form beside me. I think back on my initial impression of him, and though he’s still a spoiled heir, I admit he’s now surprised me a few times.

“You never answered,” I say to him.

He looks over and cranes an eyebrow. “Answered what?”

“Where is your best friend now?”

His full lips thin into a hard line, and his blue eyes deepen against the creases of his furrowed brow. He jerks his head forward. “I don’t have one.”

My lips part, but I decide against questioning him further. Maybe his friend was killed during the Otherworlder raid on Perinya. Or maybe he had to give up his friendships as part of his duty to his kingdom. Instead, I nod lightly, and let the heavy drumming solidify the wall between us.

Along the streets, Otherworlders dance and cheer as we walk past. It’s disturbing how young some are—just children. They wave as if we’re in a parade, and I suppose to them we are. Some pretend to fight each other with sticks and fake swords, mimicking their favorite sport. Their parents hold them on their shoulders, so they can get a better view of the doomed contenders.

A quarter of a mile into the inner city, Bax turns to us and glares. “Wave, you idiots.” He points his sword hilt toward me, the blade flat against his ripped, pale forearm, singling me out. His order is clear. And Crew was right. I’m his favored contender and he believes where I lead, the other contenders will follow.

Lifting my chin, I counter his command with a stubborn glare to match his own. His glowing eyes penetrate mine, and I decide to take my own advice. It won’t do me any good to anger him. I need to at least earn some semblance of trust in order to find privacy.

I plaster a smirk on my face and raise my hand to the bystanders and wave. Caben snaps his head in my direction and eyes me, suspicious. But he doesn’t ask. He simply copies my action and waves to the crowd. Even flexes his biceps a few times. He truly knows how to be on display.

A content Bax raises his arms and makes a “bring it on” motion with his hands, encouraging the gamblers to invest in his league.

I take in the massive numbers of Otherworlders—there are so many. I hope this means that they’ve vacated Cavan. That the Council can bring Empress Iana back to her home and somehow the goddesses will save her life if they don’t retrieve the relic.

Maybe the Otherworlders really are mad, and the attacks were random. No. I don’t believe that. Mad, yes, but I witnessed their raid on my city. It was clever, tactful, and well planned. Anger boils in my chest. I wish the goddesses would send me a clear message, something that would lead my thoughts in the right direction.

As we near the end of the street, a tower rises up before us, lit with crackling white-blue lights like on the Cage. The currents snap and lash against the darkness. Its massive turret branches out at the top, reaching into the air like a claw. The low drumming stops.

I stare up, transfixed. My heart beats heavily against my breastbone and clamp. Then warmth engulfs my hand. I don’t look over at Caben, but I lace my fingers through his, accepting the comforting touch.

Bax turns to us, his leer in place. “Contenders! Kneel before the Temple of Bale.”

From my childhood, I recall vague stories of the Otherworlders’ deity—of Bale. Of how centuries ago she once ruled alongside the goddesses, but was cast out because of her hatred for humanity. She started plagues and illnesses, suffering and wars. And the goddesses—seeing that she was out of control—banished her below the earth.

Where the Otherworlders now call home.

That’s only legend, though. Stories told through time to give reasons for why there is sickness and death and enough hatred to war over. To explain why the Otherworlders fled underground ages ago. If any of it were true, or credible, it would be in the history books we’re given about the goddesses during protector training.

Bax raises a clenched fist, halting us, and we stop just feet away from the giant dark doors of the temple. He raps twice with a large, bronze knocker. After a few seconds, the doors begin to part, filling the air with a low, hollow creak.

An Otherworlder dressed in a black robe stands in the doorframe. Her dreaded coils of hair are pulled into a high bun, and dangling silver earrings bounce against her shoulders as she sweeps her pale hand through the air, inviting us in.

The inner sanctum of the temple is a wide hallway that opens up into a larger chamber as we walk. Miniature sized spires run floor to ceiling, the chemical, light-filled vessels giving off a dark glow. The walls are leafed in silver and gold, copper and bronze; every mineral imaginable has been wielded into images and symbols I don’t recognize. Except one.

The moon.

On the farthest wall of the chamber, high above a dais and gleaming sliver arch, a platinum moon catches the glint from the spires. A ring of mercury runs along its circular edge, denoting an eclipse that cascades down into a black marble fountain.

Alyah, guide me.

A dark figure emerges from the shadows of the room. He’s robed in black. His pale skin is wrinkled, and sharp bones shape his face in distorted angles. If I squint, I can see the semblance of a human man beneath the weathered, monstrous features.

He presses his palms together, his fingertips just beneath his pointy chin. “You have brought Bale the shards?” he says to Bax expectantly.

Bowing his head, Bax stares at the floor. “No, My Liege.” It’s the first time I’ve encountered a hint of fear in Bax’s voice. “But we have garnered worthy contenders for the Reckoning. It’s only a matter of time before our spies find—”

The dark priest turns his palm out, halting Bax’s excuses. “The contenders are worthless unless the shards are produced.” He steps down from the marble dais and stands before Bax. His milky eyes hold Bax captive. “You will find the Perinyian protector, and you will discover Laryn’s protector, as well. Both shards will be found before the eclipse or you will sacrifice yourself in penance for your failure to Bale.”

Bax lowers his head farther. “Yes, My Liege.”

Now the spindly priest casts his eyes on us—the contenders—and an icy shiver slithers down my spine. His hazy white eyes take in each contender one by one. When they settle on me, I feel as if his gaze is searing the flesh from my bones. Unwrapping me layer by layer, searching my being.

“Contenders,” he says. “I find you worthy tributes to Bale. Good luck during the Reckoning, and may the victor bear the freedom ring for all eternity.” His eyes slit, and the creepy smile that crooks his thin lips steals the breath from my lungs.

Then we’re being lead back out of the temple.

That’s it?

All this parading us through the streets and being taken into scary temples so that the Otherworlders’ evil priest could determine our worth to fight in the Cage?

I shake my head as we make our way back over the rock bridge. I wish that the Council would’ve taught us more about the Otherworlders. Truths of their customs and beliefs. I wish I understood exactly what’s happening.

A pulse ebbs through my chest. It starts low, building into a faint, separate heartbeat. Warmth spreads through my body, washing over me in waves matching the beat.

I stop walking.

The empress
.

Whipping around, I slash at the air with my arm, knocking Caben and the other contenders aside as I push my way toward the temple. I’m at the door before Bax registers the contenders’ shouts.

“Get back here, you fool!” he snarls.

But the pulsing in my chest pulls me through the temple, searching. It arrests my senses and my mind. I have to find the source.

Coming to a sudden stop, I waver on the balls of my feet. A slight breeze could knock me over as my eyes find the thing calling to me.

The crystalline relic.

The dark priest is setting it in a carved out nook just below the moon. His back stiffens, then he turns around. His beady eyes ignite in the black light.

“Protector.” He hisses the word like a snake spits venom.

Bax grabs ahold of my arm and yanks me backward, his nails digging into my skin. “My Liege,” he labors. “Forgive me.” He bows quickly before forcing me out of the sanctuary.