Page 196 of The Edge of Darkness

I was in Salterra. The Wastelands. And the presence I’d sensed before . . . it was here. It was . . . tangible.

I turned and froze.

A figure stood in the distance. A dark cloak hung from his shoulders, lifting in the wind. I couldn’t make out the details of his face from where I stood, but I knew without a doubt who he was. I didn’t need to be close to know that I was in the presence of the fallen god—every one of my senses warned me. Fallen or not, the air of authority that surrounded him was so potent, it was almost overwhelming.

“You came,” he said, something like genuine surprise lining his voice.

I managed a swallow.

I had come. But at what cost? Had I been caught up in such a dreamlike delirium that I’d negated all common sense?

My hand remained on the tree, its bark biting into my palm, a startling reminder that this felt all too real and much too dangerous.

Lyceius stared across the space between us. He approached slowly, as if he was just as wary of me as I was of him. As if I would spook too easily and disappear if a single rock rolled beneath his boot wrong.

The closer he neared, the more prominent his features became in the moonlight. He looked to be only five-to-ten years older than me, but I knew that wasn’t true. Gods didn’t age past their prime, and yet, his hair was silver. It fell in healthy waves to his neck, just grazing the pointed pauldrons that covered his shoulders from which his long cloak fell. Even his eyes were a piercing silver, swirling and churning like a storm. His face, with all its sharp angles, could have been chiseled from stone.

“Do not come any closer,” I warned him.

He stopped not fifteen feet away and continued surveying me. “You can’t blame me for being curious, can you?” He lifted his arms and gestured toward me. “Blood of my blood, in the flesh . . . and yet . . . you’ve been so far from me. A rarity such as yourself should be holding rank within my army.”

The words were a pretty lie. I was a threat. The only threat when it came to his mortality. The only one who could kill him without breaking divine law. That ancient woman managed to hide her daughter, therefore providing the bloodline that Karios would use to ultimately create me. I threatened all that Lyceius stood for and wanted to achieve. Giving me a place in his army? No. He’d be a fool to keep me alive.

“Looks like the fates had other plans for me,” I said.

He let out a low, mocking laugh. “They were never fond of me. Time has only served to prove that. Such a shame though. I consider myself to be a rather reasonable god.” He paused. “I was fine with it, you know. With one of my own being kept from me. But when I discovered what Karios had done, how he’d created something from my blood and altered your allegiance . . .” He looked me up and down again with nothing but scorn on his face. “He gave you a dose of his power, in the hope that you’d be the one to end what he couldn’t. A desperate fool’s mistake.”

“You’re bitter because he outsmarted you.”

“Bitter? I was betrayed.”

“So was he. You tampered with his creation. You are just as⁠—”

“Careful,” he said, deathly quiet. “Do not play like you understand the whims of gods.”

“Is that what they are? Whims? You started wars and killed countless innocents all because of your whims?”

A pulse of inky darkness spread across my mind so quickly and with such force that my legs gave out and I fell forward. The skin on my exposed knees split on the jagged rocks. Black talons dug into my mind, grinding against the stone of my mental shield.

Lyceius didn’t move. He held my mind at his mercy. “I don’t expect you to understand. In the end, you are but a human—regardless of the power that runs in your veins. And I will not see that power used against me.”

The claws dug in, punching small fissures in the white stone in my mind. I let out a sharp cry, gritting my teeth as I pushed my power against it, digging deeper to reinforce the cracks. I needed more—needed to descend deeper into my well.

“You’ve been training,” Lyceius mused. “Your shield is stronger now.” For a moment, he almost seemed impressed. “I can feel the power in your blood. It’s a shame you haven’t been shown how to really use it.”

My hands shook, digging into the dirt as I pushed back against his essence in my head. “On the contrary,” I ground out. I lifted my palm and released a burst of light. It collided with his chest, the sound like a clap of thunder. Lyceius rocked backwards, his churning eyes narrowing on me, nostrils flaring. The claws in my mind retracted, but they stood poised on the threshold, awaiting his command.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the air shook around us. I looked up as gray, feathered wings split the wind, and then, Remic’s boots slammed to the ground behind me. His wings arced over where I kneeled in the dirt, and he drew his longsword from where it was strapped between his shoulder blades. The sound of it being unsheathed echoed over the plains, a deadly hiss as menacing as the expression on his face.

“You made a mistake summoning her here,” he said, his voice darker than I’d ever heard.

Lyceius smirked, then chuckled to himself. “I’ve always been fascinated by your kind. Should we test how indestructible you are?” He lifted a hand, and a silver sword formed in his grasp from its pommel to the tip of the blade. He twirled it in his palm, as if the thought of a sword fight was an added bit of amusement. The god didn’t need a sword to fight his battles. He was toying with Remic.

But Remic didn’t flinch. Didn’t seem to care that Lyceius could wipe him from the earth with a flick of his wrist, if he wished. He tightened his grip, the leather-wrapped pommel creaking against his palm. The markings on his face pulsed to life, red as a blood moon.

It was then that I realized a Dionach’s rage was damn near equivalent to the fury of a god. And my power rallied in my veins, ready to defend Remic in return.

Lyceius remained lethally calm as he pointed the sword directly at me. “She either leaves with me now, or I will come for her with legions upon legions of my own.”