Son of Sun (Forgotten Gods (Book 2)) (31 page)

Numbness crept over my limbs like a cold, dense fog.

It wasn’t death I feared. Though, maybe I should have. Losing something that was more precious to me than life—that was what I feared. Yet, for all my fire-goddess magic, there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop it.

Irony is the cruelest master.

My hands were bound and I was forced to fall in line behind Dayne, surrounded by guards laden with cruel, medieval weapons of war. I didn’t protest. I didn’t fight. I didn’t even whimper when my wounds ached so badly I swayed to keep my feet.

Silently, we marched toward the pale pink castle playing peek-a-boo with the mist. Along the way, overzealous guards prodded Dayne with their spears and blade points. Not because he was lagging, but because they could. They were Garyn’s men. Soldiers trained to fight like him, and to hate Dayne as fiercely as he did, too. I wanted to rip their heads off and impale them on the weapons they carried. But that sort of vengeance was beyond my power. With each step I took—my eyes resolutely glued to Dayne’s boots as they trudged along the path before me—my fate slipped further from my control.

At the queen’s command, Dayne would kill me, that much I knew. Once the queen’s will was spoken, he wouldn’t be able to refuse. Which left me with two options. Fight back and possibly kill him; or willingly die at his hands, and be done with it all. It wasn’t really a choice, and I hoped that Dayne’s heart would be rendered as numb as his mind was by Daoine’s murderous spell. The thought of his eternity being tormented by the memory of killing me was worse than the thought of actually dying.

We marched through the courtyard, the steady echo of the Sidhe army’s feet sounding like a cavalcade of infantry thundering into battle as they shuffled forward, stopping mechanically in the barren yard. Garyn and another guard pushed us forward with the tip of their blades. I flinched, but somehow stumbled forward, catching myself and the wail of pain that radiated up my throat.

They stopped us in the massive entryway where a soaring ceiling towered as high as the castle itself. A brightly etched window, adorning the pink surface like a radiant jewel, covered a sizable portion of the front wall. Through this, LisTirna’s pastel light fluttered into the room, casting us in the divine glow of grand cathedrals. But this castle was neither grand nor divine. It was no more than a prison. And LisTirna was far darker than hell.

Garyn—still just as foul as ever with his creepy iced eyes and stinking forest smell—grabbed at my wounded arm.

“Argh!” I whimpered weakly. Dayne was held firmly in the other guard’s grip, but he lunged forward at the sound of my pain, struggling to get to me. When he realized it was no use, he settled for hissing at Garyn with a malevolent growl.

Garyn laughed in his face, punching his chin triumphantly into the air.

“Strip him down and take anything from his room he could use to kill himself. He doesn’t deserve the chance to be a martyr!” Garyn sneered, glaring at me as if the mere sight of me were repulsive to him. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for two seconds in my world with Garyn. Just enough time to regain my powers and tear into him the way he deserved.

Dayne fought as they dragged him away down a hall so dark I wasn’t sure it ever ended. He let fly so many hate-filled threats at Garyn, the few remaining guards left in the hall followed to help. Leaving me alone with Dayne’s worst enemy. When Garyn turned his ice cold eyes on me again, his sneer turned into a snarl. In a flash, he rushed me up against the stone wall in the far corner, his forearm to my throat. Covered by shadow, the snarl fell from his face, replaced by a wicked smile that scared me far worse.

“Thought you’d get away from me again, huh? Well not his time! Dayne’s too weak to save you, and there’s no one to stop me now!” His voice sucker punched my ear. The breathy words so hot and so full of spittle it turned the side of my face into a swamp. His evil, vile hand snaked up the side of my body, over my breast and up my neck. I winced, jerking my head away only to slam my skull against solid stone. Repulsed by the feel of his acid-touch abrading my skin, I screamed. His hand clamped over my mouth. “There’s no one to hear you scream!” He hissed through clenched teeth right at my throat, pushing me against the stone wall with the heft of his body until it cut into my back. His free hand tore at the wound left by Daoine’s talons, enjoying the torment that clenched my body.

I refused to cry out again, opting to bite my upper lip to quell the pain. I refused to give him what he wanted and let him see I was weak or scared or any of that. Instead, I turned my face towards his.

My sudden movement caught him off guard and he looked at me expectantly, his eyes lingering on my lips, which were now inches from his. I forced desire to darken my eyes, and smiled as sweetly as I could without vomiting from his foulness. His brow pulled down in confusion, and his grip loosened on my arms. I knew I had him. Switching my focus to his lips, as if they were something I wanted very much, I leaned in for the kill. He gasped slightly as I moved toward him, but didn’t pull away. I licked at my lips, and he moved infinitely closer again.

Was he really so stupid?

The moment our lips met, I bit down as hard as I could on his bottom lip, holding onto him as I inhaled every bit of breath I possibly could.

Like air from a deadman’s lungs released in one awful, putrid sigh long after death has stiffened his limbs, Garyn’s abhorrent breath spewed into my chest. My gag reflex kicked in, violently trying to purge the rank, stinking mess from my body. I was reminded of the night I had saved Anyi’s life, sucking the sickness of death from her limp body. Revolting as that experience was, there had been satisfaction in it. Garyn’s breath was a hundred times worse, without any of the joy. As revolting as it was, I forced myself to keep inhaling, pulling every ounce of strength from him I could.

“Garyn!” A voice rang out, filling the corners of the entryway, and startling us both.

Garyn fell to the ground, having lost his balance when I released him. My mouth tasted of death and metal, the iron tang of his blood slicking my lips.

It was Ara, interrupting us as she always did. I stayed in the shadows, running my tied hands along the wall behind me, searching for something to defend myself with as she approached.

“Don’t bother, Faye. We’d just bring you right back!” She said as she flew at me and snatched my bound arms, digging her razor sharp nails into the already bloodied flesh. “Garyn, you are pathetic!” She barked over her shoulder as she stepped over him and pulled me down a hallway in the opposite direction from Dayne. Up a seemingly endless spiral of stairs, dragging me the entire way, obviously delighting in the tiny pants of pain that managed to escape as I bobbed helplessly along behind her.

At the end of a hall high in the castle, she nodded to guards and they stepped aside, allowing us to enter a solid, ominous looking door.

With a flawless finger flick, Ara’s taloned nail sliced through my bindings, and she shoved me into the room. I scraped along the hay sprinkled, stone floor, barreling like a bowling ball, until I slammed against the far wall. My body nearly imploded with pain, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of whimpering like I wanted to.

The room was completely empty. Nothing but a tiny window not large enough for a rat to crawl through. No light, no bed, no nothing. Just cold stone, straw, and me.

A great bellowing gong thundered through the air, shaking the prison walls and rattling the teeth in my head. I cowered against the cold stone, fearing the castle would crumbling to the ground. Over and over it splintered the air, and I threw my arms around my head protectively.

“You are so pathetic,” Ara chuckled as the final gong faded into silence and the walls quit quaking. I looked up from where I had taken refuge against the floor to see her smug pout impatiently watching me.

“What was that?”

“The bells. Mother is summoning every Sidhe from the far corners of LisTirna to witness my coronation.” Ara’s disdain was immediately replaced with jubilant self admiration. She clasped her hands behind her back and began to stride toward the tiny window with proud steps. “
Everyone
. All here for me!” She squealed and gritted her teeth at the last part, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Sounds like quite the celebration,” I mumbled impassively, slumping against the wall and bringing my knees into my chest.

“It’s going to be the grandest party this world has ever seen.” She turned quickly and swept an appraising look over me. Her face cut into a deep frown, obviously finding me lacking. “We’ll have to clean you up. That would never do.” A taloned finger traced up and down my body dismissively.

“Never do for what?”

“Why, the blooding ceremony. What else?” Her blonde hair bounced with impossible body as she shook her head.

“Blooding ceremony?” Ara certainly had a way of getting a girl’s undivided attention.

“It’s tradition. You and Dayne will fight to the death. Then I...the new queen...will be anointed with the loser’s blood to ensure a long and prosperous reign.”

“You mean you are going to pour our blood on your head?” I curled my lips at the thought. “That’s disgusting. Even for you.”

She shrugged and turned away.

“Come on, Faye. We both know it’s going to be your blood.” She cast a sideways glance over her shoulder, her mouth twitching at the corners with smug delight. “I don’t hate my brother. Not really. I just want his crown. This way he doesn’t have to die, and you are no longer a problem. I’m really doing you a favor here.”

“Favor? How so?”

“You loving Dayne is like the moon loving the sun. It Just. Doesn’t. Work.” Ara shook her head with each word and sighed helplessly. “I’m doing you the favor of putting you out of your misery. Besides, you are doomed in every world. Death is inevitable for you.”

“You know about Chassan?” My eyes fell to the floor, knowing she was right.

“
Everyone
knows about Chassan,” she corrected as if the world of demigods had their own gossip magazine. I drew in a shaky breath.

“Do me one more favor?”

Ara raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Get out of my cell.”

I hated Ara for
being right, but hate was a pointless emotion. It did nothing but sour what little time remained. I pitied myself for the unavoidable fate hanging in my future. But that was useless too. Pity only filled my left over hours with sorrow and made my heart unbearably heavy.

That’s when I thought of Anyi, and how excited she had been to welcome death into her life. How she embraced it as an honor instead of a sentence. A small child of eight without a single meaningful life experience under her belt did not pity herself for all she would never accomplish in life. Nor did she hate the village of cowards that sent her to that deadly altar.

She had risen above it all. She had made the choice that her death would be beautiful. Transcend her human form to become the stuff of legend that would be engrained into the histories of her people forever. She did not go weakly, but willingly. Selflessly sacrificing herself so that others may live. Others whom she loved. Life would go on for them when she was gone, and that was where the beauty lay in her death.

Though she would never know it, Anyi’s sacrifice was nothing more than an empty ceremony. Inti, whom her death was meant to appease, was no longer around to ensure her father’s long and prosperous rule. My sacrifice, on the other hand, was flesh-and-blood real. By selflessly laying down my life, I was sparing Dayne’s. I could make it easier for him if I welcomed it, and in turn make it beautiful for me. How could I ever regret that?

Hours passed before my door opened again. I was staring out my postage-stamp window, looking into LisTirna’s ethereal sky, contemplating all these thoughts and rectifying things in my head. Three servants stood in my doorway, their empty eyes blinking at me in turn.

“Ara has sent for you,” a guard barked from behind them.

I didn’t protest. I didn’t resist. I offered the servants nothing but smiles as they escorted me through the castle. The guards followed behind, their heavy steps echoing down the hallways.

Our progress ended at a set of ornate doors. They hung open, as if awaiting our arrival, and the sweetest of smells wafted through them and invaded my senses.

“Finally,” Ara sighed when I stepped through the doorway, a servant holding each arm. I forced a smile to my lips. “What’s wrong with you?” Her face twisted into a wary scowl.

“It’s nice to be out of my cell,” I offered simply.

Ara smacked her lips and turned back to a lesser Sidhe standing behind her.

“Let’s see...she definitely needs a bath. Let’s put her hair up, with a few loose curls coming down her face. Nothing too harsh. We want her too look as virginal as possible.”

“Virginal?” I asked, eyes wide.

“Um...Danu was the goddess of virgins?” Ara shook her head and rolled her eyes impatiently. “I’m trying to create a spectacular show here.”

I couldn’t help the blush that crept into my cheeks.

“Wait a minute.” Ara pushed away the gowns that had just materialized at her side for inspection. “You mean you and my brother never did it?” A mischievous smile spread so widely across her face it was in danger of cracking.

I shook my head and stared at my toes.

“Did you ever with anybody else?”

I shook my head again.

“Oh, now I actually feel sorry for you.” She frowned. “Hmmm…well, looks like there’s a purpose to your pathetic sex life after all. Thanks, I guess.” Ara shrugged and selected a dress from the stack laid across a servants arms. I bit my tongue and took a deep, calming breath, bowing my head in acquiescence.

She held the dress up to my shoulders, tilting her head to the side as she thought. Our eyes met for the briefest of seconds. It’s amazing what you can see in someone’s soul in such a short amount of time. In Ara’s eyes, I saw the same emptiness I had felt in her soul the night at Dayne’s cottage in the Burren. An emptiness that knowing love, even if it’s just once, can wash away forever. Ara had never known love. Not real love. And I pitied her for that, knowing my short was life fuller than hers would ever be.

“He really loved you didn’t he?” She whispered.

I bit my lip and nodded, holding tears at bay.

“Poor you,” she offered, her gaze going dark again. “This one.” Ara tossed the gown she held at a servant and stalked from the room.

I was stripped of my human clothes and poured into a golden bathtub filled with oil and bubbles that smelled like a lilac field. Rose quartz walls circled the room. Gold streaked white quartz paved the floor. A balcony ran the length of the outside wall. Floor to ceiling windows were open to the waterfall, allowing a constant, mist-covered roar to float into the room. Servants waited on me hand and foot, bringing food and drink, washing my hair and body.

I felt like a queen myself.

When my skin was pink, they plucked me from the tub and began the task of turning me into one of them. A host of slave girl servants and illuminated Sidhe worked on me for hours, perfecting every inch of my body. When they turned me around into a full length, gilt mirror, I didn’t recognize myself.

There hadn’t been too many mirrors since I left my dorm room, and I had yet to become accustomed to my new facade. Dressed in the Sidhe’s royal finery, I looked as if I had just stepped off Olympus.

The gown cut low over my new cleavage and skimmed my shoulders with long flowing sleeves. The sleeves were nothing but sheer gauzy panels cut down the middle to expose soft, rosy flesh. They finished tightly around my wrists in two golden cuffs, entwined with the Sidhe’s vine motif.

A similar cuff circled my waist as well, fitting so tightly it could have been sewn onto me. Golden vines grew off this belt, reaching up for my breasts in golden thread embroidery that narrowed to a point between my ample bosom. From the waist, the gown fell in full pleats to the ground, the sheer white fabric streaked through with more golden thread.

Had I not known it was me, I never would have recognized the face in the mirror. My magic was too weak to illuminate my eyes with the speckled red flames of fire. Instead, they smoldered in variegated colors of blue, gold and green. My cheeks were blushed a perfect tint, like a young girl in love. My lips were dewy and bee stung, inviting to everyone when I smiled. For once, I was every bit the goddess I was supposed to be.

“You look lovely,” I gravely voice came from the shadows and every servant in the room disappeared.

I spun around on my bare feet toward the corner where the voice emerged. Peering into the darkness, I saw her.

Daoine hung like a shadow in the darkness. As the final servant scurried away, she stepped into the light and I recoiled.

Where my beauty had grown, hers had faded. The light had not only drained from her hand, but the rest of her body as well. No longer did she glow with the magic of her people. Her skin was wrinkled, pale as putty, with huge cement bags under her eyes. A gaunt frame wasted away under her robes, nothing more than a sickly sack of bones wrapped in fine cloth. The light in her violet eyes had faded to a tiny spark of darkest amethyst, hovering on the verge of extinction.

“Do not fear me. I’ve come to make our peace.” Daoine held her hands out in surrender. Peace. I nodded my head. That was all I wanted, too. I offered her a hand, thinking anyone as frail as she was would certainly have trouble walking. She stubbornly waved it away.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, stepping respectfully aside as she entered the room.

“Nothing is wrong. LisTirna senses a new queen is near. My magic is leaving and soon…” She staggered over to the balcony and peered heavenward. “I will join my ancestors in the sky.” She smoothed her hair with a shaky hand and took a seat, nodding toward a nearby chair. Hesitantly, I joined her.

“Do you not worry what will happen to this world once it is in Ara’s hands?”

“I’ve worried about this world since you first step foot into our borders. But the future simply is. And we cannot change it. Believe me. I’ve tried.” She gave me a disapproving look as if it were all my fault.

“You mean if I hadn’t met Dayne, this never would have happened?”

“Whose to say?” Daoine gave a weak shrug. “The future has its own way of happening.”

“What will happen to him?”

Daoine’s face drew tight, unsure how to answer such a question.

“Nothing that he is prepared for.” She finally answered after much consideration, her face blank as stone.

I drew in a deep breath that came out in a pitiful whimper as tears flooded into my eyes. I hung my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth, heartbroken to think of Dayne living an eternity with the guilt of my blood on his hands.

“We both know how this is going to end. I’m willing to do this. I
want
to do this. But I need to know he’s going to be okay.”

Daoine’s face softened. She looked down at her hands, rubbing her palms together, shaking her head.

“Yes,” she finally said in a whispered voice. “Dayne will find his happiness again.”

I didn’t want her words to hurt, but they did. Dayne would live, and he would find his happiness again without me. It was the comfort I needed. But it stung my soul like a red hot branding iron.

“What about me? Will it at least be painless?” I asked in a tiny voice through my tears.

Daoine stood to leave, but turned back and grasped my chin in her cold, pasty palm, turning my face to hers.

“Do not fear death. Life is far more dangerous for you.”