Chapter
Forty-Five
he briny smell of salt and sea followed me as I walked down the gravel path leading away from the pier. The heat ofT Luther’s stare burned into my back until a bend in the trail took me out of his line of sight.
Coeurîle was far larger than I expected. The Emarion Army kept it heavily guarded, as only the nine Crowns were permitted access, so it had never been more to me than a green dot on the horizon.
All we’d been taught in school was that Coeurîle housed the Kindred’s Temple, where the sibling gods had conducted the Forging spell that divided Emarion into its realms. However, I knew from the illicit books on mortal history my mother collected that this island had been sacred long before the Kindred arrived.
Many believed the Everflame had once existed here. In the ancient mortal religions, the Everflame was the source of all life and death, an eternally burning tree with branches that scraped the clouds and roots that spread all the way to the Sacred Sea.
According to lore, once the Kindred arrived and decided to anoint themselves as divine rulers, they chopped the Everflame down to make room for their black godstone Temple.
During the Blood War centuries ago, Coeurîle had been a fiercely sought-after prize. Not only was the island symbolically cherished by both sides, it was the only battleground in Emarion where the Descended had to fight the mortals without the benefit of their magic or their gryverns, placing them on near-equal footing.
Some even whispered that the Temple was the source of all Descended magic, and that destroying it would end their reign over mortals for good. With how viciously the Descended fought to keep it out of mortal hands, one could almost believe there was some truth to the rumor.
As I strolled down the trail that wound in and out of grassy hills and through endless fields of bright red wildflowers, it was hard to fathom the rivers of blood that had been shed over such a sleepy pocket of untamed land.
“You must be our new Lumnos.”
To my right, a woman approached on a separate path. She wore a short, fitted dress made up of a patchwork of different animal hides, and a tall feather collar ringed the back of her neck. Chains that dangled with small bones and sharpened fangs clinked on her wrists as she walked.
I paused where our paths merged. “Faunos?”
Her hips swayed seductively as she spread her arms wide. “Was it that obvious?”
“Lucky guess,” I joked, giving her a shallow nod. “My name is Diem.”
“Not anymore, kitten. On this island, you’re just Lumnos.”
She halted in front of me and propped a hand at the crook of her waist as she looked me over.
“You’re an unexpected surprise. We all thought it would be that angry-looking Prince. You know, the handsome one who looks like he’s never laughed in his life? The old Lumnos said no one else’s power even came close.”
I smiled sadly at her description of Luther. It was exactly how I might have described him myself months ago. Now, the thought of him living joyless and cold for so long plucked painfully at my heart. “I promise you, no one was more surprised than me.”
She inclined her head toward the path and we continued walking. “My representatives said your Ascension Ball was a hell of a show. I hear Umbros was up to its usual beastly behavior.”
I tensed. I knew nothing of the relationships between the Crowns except that the Umbros Queen was distrusted by all. Any sign of alliance with her—say, for example, releasing her representatives from their magical binds—would quickly mark me for suspicion.
“I was glad to see them leave my realm,” I answered honestly.
“Did Sorae like the two treats I sent? I would have sent more, but my Rosha goes through them like candy.” She gave a happy sigh. “I do adore Sorae. She’s got such a sense of humor. Consider yourself lucky, you could have been stuck with that
horribly crabby Ignios gryvern.”
I frowned. “You can speak to Sorae?”
“I can speak to all creatures.” She pointed to her Crown, a glowing circle of intertwined fauna that slithered and fluttered and clawed in endless motion. “Realm of Beast and Brute. It quite literally goes with the territory.”
Scarlet spread over my cheeks. “Right, of course. To be honest, I haven’t given them to Sorae. They were a little... um...”
“Cute and fuzzy? Damn, I knew I should have skinned them first.” She spotted the queasy look on my face and laughed.
“The strong feed from the weak, cub. It’s a part of nature.”
“It doesn’t bother you to kill them even though you can speak to them?”
“Humans can speak, it doesn’t stop them from killing each other.” She shrugged. “If I didn’t have magic to control them, the beasts in my realm would eat me, too. Guilt and compassion have no place in the food chain. Only survival.”
Survival at all costs. That goal, my father’s foremost lesson, had guided me through these recent dark obstacles, but to hear the same words spoken now with such callous nonchalance, they felt strangely hollow.
“Speaking of beasts,” she said. Her eyes cast toward another intersecting pathway where a hulking giant of a man lumbered toward us. He was a sentient mountain of muscle, with thighs like redwoods and a brick wall of a chest. His fearsome glare would have made even a mean bastard like Garath cower in fear.
His blood-red irises gave him away, though I would have known the Fortos King from the Emarion Army uniform he wore —albeit a far more embellished version than I’d ever seen. His Crown reminded me of a tangled cluster of veins, rhythmically pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.
He grunted as he approached, his eyes dragging over us in cold evaluation.
“You’re looking chipper today, Fortos,” the Faunos Queen purred in greeting. “Aren’t you going to welcome our newest member?”
He leveled me with a stare. “I hear you’re the Bellator child.”
My spine straightened. “Both my parents served in the army. Andrei and—”
“Auralie. I’m aware.”
“You knew them?” I couldn’t help the awe in my voice. Some part of me was still that young, naive girl who glowed with pride that a mighty Descended King had taken notice of her mortal parents.
He made another guttural noise. “You cost me two of my most valuable assets.”
I stared, not knowing what to say—I’m sorry my existence inconvenienced you?—until it occurred to me that if he had known about my birth, he might also have known my birth father.
“Do you happen to have any idea who—”
Before I could finish, he pivoted sharply on his heel, striding onward and leaving me blinking in his trail.
The Faunos Queen shot me a sympathetic look. “Don’t take it personally. If you’re not giving him someone to kill, he’s not interested.”
We walked in silence as the path wound on, bordered on both sides by thick brush and tall grass, all of it dotted with the same vibrant crimson blooms.
“What are those flowers?” I asked. “I’ve never seen anything like them on the continent.”
“Kindred willing, let’s hope you never do, or we’d all be doomed.”
“It won’t happen,” the Fortos King cut in from up ahead. “My soldiers have it under control.”
“Arboros!” the Faunos Queen suddenly shouted. She pointed accusingly at a blonde woman to our left wearing a halo of interwoven greenery dotted with continuously blooming flowers. “I have a bone to pick with you about our border!”
“Keep your bones to yourself, Faunos.” The Arboros Queen’s voice was sweet, her demeanor demure, but the sparkle in her bright emerald eyes suggested she was anything but meek. “If this is about the mortals again—”
“You know they aren’t allowed in my realm. If they aren’t going to keep to the Ring Road, they have to stay in Arboros.”
“Life is meant to propagate and spread. You may insist on defying nature’s course, but I shall not. If your borders need securing, take it up with him.” She gestured to the Fortos King, who seemed to perk up at the prospect of a new battle.
The Faunos Queen practically snarled. “You keep those mongrels out of my jungles, or I’ll make sure no bee or butterfly ever propagates in your realm ever again.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, flinging back her moss-edged cape. “We need those pollinators, Faunos.”
The two women stormed toward each other in a huff, continuing to quarrel. The Fortos King’s eyes gleamed eagerly as the exchange grew increasingly laden with threats.
“I’ll handle this,” he said, stalking off to join them. “You go on ahead.”
I looked around at the wide open land. “Go where?”
“Just keep walking. All roads on the island lead to the Temple.” He paused and shot me a condescending look. “And don’t wander. Until you’re coronated, you’re not allowed off the path.”
I debated staying to watch the spectacle, grinning to myself as I imagined telling the story to Luther later. However, if the King of Fortos did have information on my birth father, provoking his temper was not an ideal way to win his trust.
I walked on and soon lost sight of the others. Over the top of the wild overgrowth, the dark form of the Kindred’s Temple came into view. The circular platform rose high above the ground and was edged nearly all the way around by a series of
ornate archways topped with tall, thin obelisks. The entire structure was made of a night-black stone that glittered under the rays of the midday sun.
Godstone. A substance stronger than metal and imbued with a deadly toxin that could kill a Descended. No one was certain whether the Kindred brought the godstone from their home world or created it with their divine power, but it was as difficult to find as it was sought-after.
In addition to building their Temple with the mysterious material, the Kindred left behind a cache of weapons crafted of godstone to each of the first Descended Crowns, but after several fell into the hands of mortal rebels during the Blood War, the Crowns agreed to confiscate and destroy them. Though illicit pieces could still be found for outrageous prices on the black market, sightings of it were rare, even for the Descended.
It felt surreal to gaze upon such a large expanse of it now. As my eyes roved over the elaborate architecture, its black stone twinkling like the surface of a sunlit sea, something hovered at the edge of my memory. Something familiar. Something important, but just out of reach.
Nearby whispers reached my ear. I spun around, expecting to see the three Crowns I’d left behind, but there wasn’t a soul
in sight.
“Hello?” I called out.
My gaze hooked on a flutter of movement in the grass. I crept closer, my focus fixed on the swaying blades as they rippled
back to stillness.
“Is someone there?” I shouted.
I stepped off the gravel path and onto the springy soil. A few more steps took me into the tall brush. I nudged at the roots with my toe, hoping to stir up some wild creature to blame for the disturbance.
“Hello?” I said again, softer this time, and took another step. I fell still, the way I’d learned during years of hunting in the forest, honing my eyes and ears for the faintest rustle.
After a long, silent minute, embarrassment rushed through me. Coeurîle was the most well-guarded place in Emarion— what was I expecting to find?
As I turned back, rolling my eyes at my own foolishness, I reached down to snap a handful of the red wildflowers from their spindly stalks. I raised the blooms to my nose and closed my eyes as I slowly breathed in.
My back instantly went stiff.
The smell was crisp and vaguely smoky, the scent of a distant fireplace on a brisk winter night, with a hint of bright citrus.
It was an aroma I knew intimately—far too intimately.
My mind was transported back to so many mornings, sitting at the kitchen table, teasing my brother as my mother poured me a cup of tea. I could almost feel the hot steam rising to my lips, the bitter taste on my tongue. And in my mind’s eye, I could spy it there on the counter—a crescent-shaped jar, filled with a powder of vivid scarlet. The very same color as the petals wilting
in my fist.
Flameroot.
These flowers had to be the origin of the powder my mother had used to suppress my Descended abilities.
Of course—if the island’s soil could nullify magic, then the flowers must be imbued with that same trait. That would explain why the Fortos King kept it so guarded, and why the other Crowns had been alarmed at the idea of it growing on the mainland.
But if it only grew here, how had my mother obtained so much of it? And why had that knowledge upset Luther so deeply?
A glint of light sparkled deep within the brush, like sunlight reflecting off metal. I strained to peer through the tall foliage.
“Hello?” I called out again.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I whipped around at the harsh snap of a masculine voice. The Crowns of Fortos, Arboros, and Faunos were standing behind me.
“I told you to stay on the path.” The Fortos King stormed over and grabbed my arm, swatting the crushed red petals from my hand and dragging me back to the trail. “Those flowers can’t be harvested without the permission of all nine Crowns.”
“I wasn’t harvesting anything,” I said archly. “I thought I heard voices, so I was investigating.”
“And you thought the flowers were speaking to you?” the Faunos Queen said with a laugh. “Perhaps you belong in Arboros rather than Lumnos.”
The Arboros Queen’s face turned thoughtful. She walked forward to kneel at a clump of wildflowers and graze her fingertips along their fluffy petals. “I would love to talk to these pretties. I imagine they’ve seen such fascinating things.”
“The plants speak to you?” I asked.
“Not in the way a human speaks. But every living thing has a story to tell, for those with the power to listen.”
The Faunos Queen murmured an agreement, and despite their earlier arguing, the two women shared a knowing look.
“Do the shadows not speak to you, Lumnos?” the Arboros Queen asked. “Does the light not have its own truth?”
The Fortos King pushed me forward. “I don’t have time for this. Let’s get to the Temple so I can return to my realm.”
I reluctantly obeyed. His ire radiated from him for the rest of the walk, leaving me stewing in its heat at his side.
I chewed on my lip. I needed to fix this and restart our interaction on the right foot. His army would be critical in defusing the war.
“Thank you for the gift you sent for my ball,” I chirped with forced enthusiasm. “It was a very fine blade.”
He grunted, his attention never leaving the Temple that loomed nearby.
“The craftmanship was quite impressive. Was it made by Brecke Holdern, by any chance?”
His gaze cut sharply to me. “How do you know him?”
“He’s a good family friend. He worked with my mother in the army.”
He swiveled to block my path. “Impossible. Brecke didn’t enlist until after your mother left.”
A sinking feeling pooled in my gut. Brecke had lied. But if he hadn’t met my mother in the army...
“My mistake,” I mumbled. “I... I must be misremembering.”
“Brecke disappeared from Fortos earlier this week, along with a very important stash of weapons.” His gaze narrowed as he leaned close. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that.”
“Obviously not.” I forced a haughty tone into my voice to mask my panic. There was only one reason for a mortal soldier to vanish with an arsenal of Descended weapons.
So much for restarting on the right foot.
The Arboros Queen slid a shoulder between the two of us, placing a delicate hand on the King’s chest. “Fortos, making accusations is not how we welcome a new Crown. The poor woman hasn’t even been coronated yet.”
His garnet eyes sparked with malice. “If she’s fraternizing with Guardians...”
“It sounds like you’ve been fraternizing with him, too. Shall we condemn you both?” He shot her a glare that would have decimated a lesser person. She pressed harder, forcing him to yield a step. “Let’s finish the Rite. Then we can discuss the matter with cooler heads.”
He held his fighting stance a moment longer, his eyes drilling into me in warning, then turned and stalked away.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “I had really hoped to get through this without any dramatics or fighting.”
The other two Queens shared a look and burst into laughter. “It’s a meeting of the Crowns, lamb. Dramatics and fighting are what we do best.”
IF THE KINDRED’S Temple had looked imposing from afar, at its base it was outright ominous. The towering obelisks stretched into the sky like the bars of a cage, each topped with a flame-lit cauldron. The distant sound of waves crashing on the shore mixed with the crackling of the nine fires.
No, not nine—one cauldron remained unlit.
I followed the others up the staircase that curved around the platform. The enormous scale of the Temple had me feeling at once insignificant and powerful beyond measure. There was a grim, lethal energy that buzzed beneath my feet, as if the stone itself were charged with dark magic. The air around me felt somehow ancient, a vacuum where time and space sat in wait and the impossible became reality.
“That’s the Lumnos portal,” the Arboros Queen said, nudging me toward the stone arch beneath the unlit cauldron.
“How do I know what to do?” I asked.
“Sophos leads the rituals. They’ll guide you through the process. Just stand outside of your portal until the other Crowns arrive.” She patted my arm, her kind eyes giving off a warmth of spirit that eased my nerves.
Several of the other Crowns had already arrived. My neighbors to the south, of course—Fortos, Faunos, and Arboros— stood at my right, and across the dais, Sophos and Meros had their heads bent in conversation.
The Meros King looked every bit the charming rogue his representatives had been. He wore casual attire, as if he’d decided to swing by on a whim in the midst of a long sail. Bright aquamarine eyes sparkled as they raked over me and winked.
His dazzling smile shone bright against his warm, dark skin, and a coronet of cresting, foam-capped waves topped his beaded dreadlocks.
The Crown of Sophos was unique in every way. Neither overtly masculine nor feminine, but some rare beauty all their own, they were dressed in a fine pantsuit of silk brocade, the long tail of their jacket stretching into a floor-length train that splayed like a gown at their feet. Their androgynous features were delicate but reserved, divulging nothing of the thoughts hiding behind their shrewd, blush-colored eyes. Floating above their clean-shaven head sat a ring of crackling sparks that splintered out like lightning.
“Congratulations on your ascension, Lumnos,” they announced. “We’re pleased to welcome you to the Temple.”
On the surface, they were offering me nothing untoward—their voice was smooth and amiable, their expression soft, their
words diplomatic—but my instincts hissed in my ear, warning me to beware.
And if there was one lesson of my father’s I would never fail to heed, it was to always trust my instincts.
I gave a simple nod in acknowledgement and offered nothing further.
Their eyes thinned at my lack of response. “I’ve learned so much about you already,” they continued. “The story of your upbringing is simply fascinating.”
I gritted my teeth, and their smile grew at the reaction.
“I do hope to meet that mortal brother of yours soon. I hear he’s very clever.”
“He’s not interested,” I snapped. More than one eyebrow arched around the assembled group.
“How do you have a mortal brother?” The King of Ignios, wearing a crisp robe of cream-colored linen edged with sand- colored embroidery, sauntered into place beneath his archway.
His voice was as rough as the man it belonged to. His reddish skin was leathered and lined with age beneath a black, wild- growing beard, and his orange irises glowed almost as brightly as his halo of dancing flames.
“Half-brother,” the Sophos Crown answered on my behalf. “Her mother was a mortal.”
The Ignios King looked me over in disgust. “I thought your realm killed off all the half-breeds.”
“It seems our new Lumnos is an exception to the rules,” the Sophos Crown mused.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
I knew her voice instantly—the Queen of Umbros.
It had been eight months since I’d first heard it in my head that afternoon in the alley, but it had haunted my dreams ever since. Some nights I still woke up in a cold sweat with the lingering terror of being a prisoner in my own mind, unable to control my body or even my own thoughts.
Although her voice was familiar, her appearance was not. The hunched octogenarian I remembered was now a woman so beautiful, my breath stuck in my throat at the sight.
She was still on the mature end for a Descended, but age had done nothing to temper the striking mix of her full lips, long ebony hair, and hourglass silhouette. A strip of shimmering wine-colored gossamer clung to her curves, covering up only enough dark olive skin to leave her decent. Above her head, a circle of dark wisps writhed like smoke from a blown-out match, matching her mysterious allure.
“Umbros,” the Sophos Crown said coolly. “How nice of you to grace us with your presence this time. We missed you at the Forging Day ceremony.”
The black pools of her eyes rolled skyward. “I sent a vial of blood, did I not? Clearly you were able to complete the ritual without me.”
“That’s not how this works. Just because we made an exception to accommodate the old Lumnos’s illness does not mean you can pick and choose which rituals you wish to attend.”
“Calm yourself Sophos, it was one Forging Day out of hundreds. I had somewhere important to be that afternoon.” Her gaze slid to me as she smiled, and a shiver rolled down my spine. “I’m here now. Wouldn’t miss this ceremony for the world.”
I awkwardly shifted my weight. With mischief in her eyes and a knowing smirk on her lips, she clearly didn’t share my desire to hide whatever connection she and I had, but the others seemed unphased by her odd behavior—and she was far from the only Crown staring me down.
The sound of shuffling drew my attention to an elderly man leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden walking stick as he struggled through a slow ascent up the Temple stairs. The ring of jagged, sparkling ice shards above him marked him as the final Crown, the King of Montios. Though the others cast a bored glance in his direction, none made any movement to help him.
I frowned and stepped back from my archway. The chattering instantly fell silent as I moved to the man’s side and offered him my arm. He swatted me away, grunting as he dragged his frail, bony form up a step and paused for breath.
“May I assist you?” I asked.
He ignored me and leaned forward to attempt another step, but his momentum failed him, and his balance wobbled precariously in the wrong direction. I threw out an arm to steady him, and he slapped it with surprising strength.
He reared his walking stick back and I flinched in anticipation of a swing, but the moment his lavender eyes raised to mine, they bulged wide and his arms went slack. Beneath his bushy white eyebrows and the scraggly beard that extended nearly to his knees, his excitement as he gawked at me was unmistakable.
He raised a hand, his skin ice cold and spotted with age, and pressed a palm against my temple. His thumb tugged at the skin on my cheekbone as he peered into my eyes, his own still round with awe.
His attention shifted to my hair. His knobby fingers trailed down my loose white tresses, then to my skin. He snatched my bare forearm and pulled it into a spot of direct sun, twisting my arm back and forth and frowning at whatever it was he saw.
His gaze rose back to my eyes, lingering for a moment before settling just above my head as his frown deepened.
“Is something wrong?” I asked him.
“He doesn’t speak,” the Sophos Crown interjected. “At least not to anyone outside his realm. And he lives on the side of a mountain, so I doubt he needs your assistance with a single flight of stairs.”
I ignored them and remained at the man’s side. He seemed so frail, a strong wind might carry him away. I had a sneaking suspicion that he normally relied on his magic to ease his mobility, but his pride would not permit him to let any weakness show in front of the other Crowns.
“As the newest Crown, it would be a great honor if you would permit me to escort you, Your Majesty,” I said, adding a deep bow for effect. I’d worked with stubborn patients like him, and I knew exactly how to play to their egos.
He sighed and sniffed an acceptance as he finally took my hand. I bit back a smile and steeled my arms to mask the heavy weight he leaned into me.
We slowly made our way to the top, the two of us shuffling silently until he stood under the Montios archway, marked with a snow-capped mountain carved into the glossy stone floor. I offered him a small smile before I let go and turned away.
“Good luck, Daughter of the Forgotten.”
It was barely more than a whisper. When I spun back to see the Montios King staring into the center of the Temple, my presence seemingly forgotten, I started to wonder if I’d imagined it.
“Why did you call me that?” I breathed. “Where did you hear—”
“Get back to your portal Lumnos, I don’t have all day,” the Fortos King sniped.
My eyes darted around to the other Crowns. They were barely paying attention, their expressions impatient and uninterested.
All except for the Queen of Umbros and her intense, knowing gaze.
“We’re all present Lumnos, we’re simply waiting on you,” the Sophos Crown added.
The Montios King shooed me off with a mute dismissal. Reluctantly, I returned to my archway.
The Kindred’s Temple served as a symbolic map of Emarion. Each of the nine arches pointed toward its respective realm.
In addition to being etched on the godstone floor, the realm emblems were also carved deep into the tall obelisks, where they glowed as if lit from within.
In the center of the open-air rotunda, representing the island of Coeurîle, a low pedestal held a large, rough-hewn stone. It was glassy on its smoother faces, the smoky color so dark it appeared black, though a faint glow seemed to emanate from within.
Even from a distance, I felt the magic radiating from it. It reminded me of how I felt whenever Luther walked into a room, his immense power both calling others to its force while warning of its threat, pushing and pulling all at once. It had made him terrifying and irresistible, and as I gazed into the inky depths of this stone, I felt that same dangerous attraction.
The Sophos Crown began to speak.
“Millenia ago, when the Blessed Kindred arrived on this continent, they brought with them a piece of their home world we now call the heartstone. They shed their blood on this heartstone to Forge a mighty spell that created our nine realms.” They gestured to the central pedestal. “This is our most precious secret, the truth that each of us guards with our lives. For if the heartstone is destroyed, so too shall our realms crumble and fall.”
Eight gazes sharpened on me in challenge as the gravity of the words hit me. This was the secret to the downfall of the Descended and their reign. The flameroot may weaken, the godstone may kill, but only the heartstone could put an end to their rule forever.
I fought furiously to suppress my smirk. They should never have told me this.
“If it’s so important, shouldn’t it be more heavily guarded?” I asked lightly.
The Fortos King scowled. “It’s safe here. No one gets on or off this island without my knowledge.”
The Umbros Queen let out a soft chuckle.
“It’s not as fragile as it looks,” the Faunos Queen said. “It isn’t affected by weapons, hammers, magic, even gryvern fire. It can’t be lifted. Can’t even be touched, unless you want to lose a hand.”
I squinted my eyes curiously at the stone. “Why is it so important—what does it do?”
“The Kindred’s elemental magic is blood magic. Anyone who shares their blood inherits those abilities. But there’s also a second kind, a magic of life and death that flows through everything—the earth, the air, every plant and creature. The heartstone acts as a conduit between those two forces. It allowed the Kindred to weave their magic into this world and control how it can be used.”
“Why does the heartstone work here when our magic doesn’t?”
“Because that’s how the Kindred willed it,” the Fortos King snapped. “Now shut up so we can finish.”
“We can discuss it more after the ritual,” the Sophos Crown agreed, pulling their shoulders back as they resumed their script. “The Kindred bid us to renew their spell by shedding our blood into the heartstone on two occasions—once each year, on Forging Day, and once upon the coronation of each new Crown.” They swept out an arm. “May the loyal children of the sacred nine pass through these portals in peace. Let us begin.”
The Sophos Crown walked through their archway until they stood above the insignia of their realm, then gestured to their left for the Meros King to follow. One by one, each Crown repeated the movement.
When my turn came to step forward, I again felt their eyes fix on me. I held my breath and stepped into the inner sanctum.
Immediately, the powerful energy radiating from the heartstone seemed to lift its head and turn its gaze toward me. The magic in the air clung to my skin, at first merely brushing with curious interest—then, gradually, the sensation began to change.
Its light caress became stronger, fiercer, hotter. Invisible boiling-hot hands gripped at me and squeezed. I fought desperately to conceal my reaction with a false smile and a shrug, but in the midst of my panic, my eyes found the Umbros Queen’s, and I could tell from her grin she knew what I was hiding.
My hands fisted as I braced for her to expose me. I could fight my way out—the odds were grim, but I was likely the only one used to relying on physical combat. And I was fast—if I could get to Luther, we might stand a chance.
But as the Montios King hobbled forward and the Sophos Crown launched into another droning monologue, I realized the moment had passed. The magic was still making every breath and movement a painful battle, but I had escaped the Crowns’ scrutiny.
I dared another look at the Umbros Queen. She was still watching me with that infuriating smile, her eyes still gleaming with the silent taunt that she knew something I didn’t want her to know.
“...and as we welcome a new Crown of Lumnos, let the magic of the Forging be strengthened once more.”
The Sophos Crown strolled to the pedestal and pulled a short-bladed dagger from a sheath at their hip. The handle was set with a series of milky white gemstones. As they pulled the blade across their palm, the creamy stones turned a pale shade of rose matching the color of their eyes.
They held their hand out and squeezed it into a fist, allowing a crimson trickle to fall. The moment the blood hit the heartstone’s glassy surface, the obelisk above the Sophos portal glowed brighter, and the fire in its cauldron hissed, its pink- hued flames stretching higher into the sky.
The Sophos Crown pulled a handkerchief and wiped the blade clean, then turned to the King of Meros and beckoned him forward to repeat the process. This time, the dagger’s stones darkened to turquoise, and the glowing blue-green fire of the Meros portal roared with renewed vigor.
As the ritual continued around the circle, the excruciating assault from the heartstone’s angry aura did not relent, and my head pounded as it wore on my strength. My senses were screaming at me to leave the Temple and get as far from the heartstone as I could.
I gritted my teeth and held my ground. If the magic guarding the Temple had let me enter, then it must not be able to keep me away completely. I only needed to suffer long enough to complete the Rite of Coronation. The destruction of the heartstone, and the Descended monarchies along with it, could wait for another day.
Finally, my turn came, and all eyes again settled on me. I shuffled stiffly toward the center, feeling like I was trudging through boiling tar. When I reached the podium, I was nearly panting with effort. I glanced over my shoulder to the Lumnos portal, its obelisk dark and its cauldron empty.
“Child of Lumnos,” the Sophos Crown began, “may your blood now reignite the flames of your realm. With this ritual, your reign begins. May you serve your people well.”
“I will,” I murmured, and though the heartstone may have doubted my intentions, I meant that vow with all my heart.
I held my hand out, and the Sophos Crown dragged the jeweled blade across my flesh. My senses were already so overwhelmed by the agony of the Temple’s power that I barely felt the cut, though a tremor shook through my arm, knocking a single glittering droplet over the side of my palm and onto the glossy stone.
An earsplitting crack of thunder shattered the air. Out of nowhere, grey clouds rolled into place, blocking the sun’s light and blanketing the sky with a menacing shadow.
I shot a questioning look at the Sophos Crown. Their eyes were fixed on the blade in their hand, its opalescent stones now a smoky grey.
“Blue,” they whispered. “The stones should be blue.”
A series of popping sounds rattled around us as each of the obelisks and their fires died out, leaving the Temple cast in murky darkness. My hand jolted in surprise, squeezing instinctively into a fist. A thin trail of blood seeped through my fingers and onto the heartstone.
A bolt of lightning rocketed down from the heavens and into the jagged rock, sending up a cloud of sparks that had me staggering backward and tumbling onto the floor. The other Crowns shouted and clung to their archways while the ground quaked with a shockwave that rippled out from the Temple across the island.
When the chaos quieted, I scrambled back to my feet. The burning pressure of the heartstone’s defensive magic had vanished, leaving me lightheaded and shaky.
“You,” the Sophos Crown gasped. They stared at me in terror, eyes wide, their face deathly pale. Their horrified gaze dropped to the heartstone, and my blood froze solid.
The rock had been carved straight through. A gash ran down the center, leaving a web of tiny fractures splintering through the night-black stone.
“You did this,” they barked. “You broke the heartstone.”
“I—I didn’t—I couldn’t,” I stammered. “I only did what you told me!”
Their eyes shifted from surprise into a dangerous fury. They raised a single quivering finger, pointed in accusation. “You are not the Queen of Lumnos. You are an imposter.”
I shook my head and backed away, looking frantically around to the other Crowns and hoping for one of them to come to my defense. They were all frozen in shock, equally unable to make sense of what they had just seen.
All except the Queen of Umbros.
Her face was smooth with perfect calm and that cold, all-knowing smile.
“Her,” I yelled, pointing in her direction. “She did this! She knows something, she came to Lumnos and she—”
A flash of coppery red caught my eyes.
And a voice.
A voice I knew and loved on a soul-deep level. A voice I had been praying to hear again for eight long months. A voice calling my name as if my very life depended on me hearing it.
Just outside the Kindred’s Temple in the wild overgrowth beyond, her brown eyes bulging and her face twisted in fear, my mother sprinted toward me with arms extended.
“Diem!” she screamed. “Diem, run!”
And with a deafening boom and a blast of fire and rubble, everything exploded.
And my world went black.
