Page 9 of The Divine Lies We Weave

A guard swiped it from between her fingers and nearly ripped it open.

Leela continued to lie on the ground, hands raised. She had heard stories of the rebels rising, trying to harness the gods and their insurmountable powers as well as trying to hunt the ancient artifacts dropped by the sandstorms—as if harnessing the power of dead Flames was of any value in a chaotic world. Although she had also heard of the palace harnessing Flames and sending people up against the monsters like they were personal weapons.

Leela cursed herself for falling. The palace had prepared her to be a wife instead of a fighter, and she didn’t stand a chance against these men with the godsblades at their hips. Her only salvation was that letter.

“Bring her in,” a soldier ordered.

They snatched her satchel and pulled Leela to her feet, a rebel at each of her arms, and dragged her along the red sand toward the wooden door. Her heart jumped into her throat as the door boomed open, and she was marched along a dark dank corridor. Dancing shadows led the way, the only light coming from the glow of the rebels’ weapons. Leela wriggled her nose. Something long dead stifled the air in these walls, and she really hoped she wasn’t about to find out why.

“Where are you taking me?” Leela asked past the lump in her throat.

“To whom you came to see,” the guard grunted back.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I got the letter?” Leela asked. Getting whatever information she could out of these men might be helpful, even if it meant poking at them.

The guards stopped.

The one in front spun, his meaty breath inches from Leela’s face. “I didn’t quite think it important to know how someone like you managed to get a note to this place,” the man sneered. “Most people who come here are led by ‘letters’ like these.”

Leela frowned. “Letters like these?”

“It means someone led you to the right place,” the guard said, a wicked smile curling. “Someone wanted you here.”

Blood drained from her face. Her stomach churned with the realization—these men had to be the rebel group forcing kidnapped mortals to harness Flames for battle. But why had Aarna taken her here…? Surely, she would have known.

The guard chuckled at Leela’s silence before he continued down the hall.

The rebels led her deeper and deeper into the cavernous depths underground. The floor tilted, and Leela had to catch herself several times. She counted her footsteps and the time they’d spent in the darkness, because if she managed to escape, she’d need to run back the way they came.

When they finally stopped, light blasted Leela from all angles. She blinked several times. Candles wilted against the cave walls before her as the ceiling opened up to the twin moons. A burning metal drum sat dead center. A flash of lightning highlighted the shadows of several hooded figures standing around the edges, each with a godsblade at their belt.

Leela’s heart raced as she searched the shadows of the hooded figures, deciphering if any were in the image of an animal or body, the moons above highlighting each shadow. Luckily, she didn’t notice any.

“And who do we have here?”

A sultry voice gripped Leela, sending trails of ice down her spine. A man with an untrimmed beard sauntered from the depths of the cave. Leela tried to step back, but his eyes were as dark as the desert under a starless sky and held her captive.

Leela had no choice but to hold still, muscles locking as she took him in. He wore a rusty-red shirt that complemented his tall, lanky frame, and rings glistened on each of his fingers. As he stepped into the moonslight, she glimpsed his two shadows stretching behind him as if someone were dragging them with slender fingers into the silhouette of a raven and a man.

Shit. He was a Vessel. To the Raven, of all the Flames above.

Leela’s heart pounded harder as a monster’s growl reverberated around the city. A flock of birds took to the skies, flying over the hollow opening of the cave.

“She fell from the rooftops, Ishaan,” a guard said.

Another emptied Leela’s contents in front of Ishaan.

Ishaan. At least the note had led her to the right place. Whatever this place was. Rebels hiding out inside a cave by the light of the moons was ominous, and not where Leela thought she’d end up. A damp, wet smell suffocated her alongside the ringing in her ears. Everything about this place set her on edge. The shadowless darkness. The dozens of guards. Weapons, gleaming under the moonslight. She just wanted to find this damned relic and be on her way.

Ishaan towered over her. The smell of whiskey hung heavy on his breath as he examined her down his pointed nose, eyes never leaving hers. His lips twitched. “Who are you?”

Leela gulped. She met Ishaan’s gaze and told herself to focus. If he harnessed the Flame of the Raven, she knew the tales well enough to know it deciphered lies from within. “Leela.”

If Ishaan could get the truth from her with a simple touch, she needed to appease him. She had heard horrible tales of those who harnessed different Flames and their mighty power, and more about what happened if a mortal didn’t obey.

Ishaan’s lips twitched, and a second later, he stroked her cheek, a trail of warmth left in his wake.

Leela froze. A gasp caught in her throat. She held his gaze as the warmth shimmered, digging into her layers of skin and causing her very bones to itch.