Page 281 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

Macaria picked on the skin of her thumb nervously. “Because he is Vas, son of Zoltan, lover of Aurora. The one Fader cursed to live beyond moons and suns, days and nights, till the forever. Cursed to see his lover live a life unlived and to never love again. He gave him immortality and a lone life. A fate worse than death.”

We’d stunned. All of us.

Demir was Vas?

All this time—

“How?” Visha asked, stunned at the secret they’d kept from her too.

“Vas was trapped in Nephthys along with the sceptre,” Macaria explained, as I'd predicted. Her lover was the punishment Eamon had spoken about. “It is how the gods had ordered it. Facing one another. For him to see her, feel her but never reach her. When the daughter of Kegan retrieved the sceptre, she freed him without knowing what or who he was. At the time, he had been weak, unable to retrieve his lover from the girl and then Kegan. His happiness was short-lived when the Elding kings of that time gathered every Aura in the kingdom to trap Aurora before it was too late. Ever since, Vas has lived countless lives, searching to assemble the sceptre. Trying to find where the elder Crafters had hidden them. We…we tried to find him, we’d heard of his movement around Numengarth, but we idiotically thought it harmless. He was just a man then. What could he have done?”

“Man?” I asked. “How was he just a man when he is that now?”

Macaria lowered her eyes to the ground full of guilt and Visha crumbled to the floor, shaking her head. “No, no, no. Do not tell me, Macaria. Do not tell me.”

The older witch said, “We kept vials of Caligo beasts' blood from the Ater battles. One night, several years ago, they were all stolen from us. Without the cast of craft, they are useless. In any other pair of hands, they would be useless. But he is not just any hand. He is touched by godly magic. We’d not heard anything, not even years later. Not until one of our Crafters had spotted the beast in Solarya, shortly before their sceptre piece was found. Vas had consumed the blood and along with his immortality, he became invincible, too.”

“Father did not need the Ahmes Lore at all, did he?” Thora asked.

Macaria nodded. “It was suspected that Vas would be able to access the gates without the help of the codes. Besides the dark magic he possesses, he is made of godly magic—magic of the most powerful god in existence.”

My hand went to Kilian’s chest. It all made sense. Why the thing possessed dark magic, why it could retrieve the Octa virga pieces unscathed, why it could go through the heavenly gates.

Kilian’s hand slid over mine and he leaned in to whisper. “You’re worrying me, my heart. Nothing…nothing will happen.”

My next breath was a bit easier. “Because my husband is not to be messed with?”

He kissed my cheek. “Because you will always have someone. Always. You’re not running from this on your own anymore.”

“If Urinthia has disappeared,” Thora said, narrowing her eyes on the floor. “Why hasn’t Mal and Nia returned from Eldmoor?”

Kilian and I exchanged a look. “Larg,” my husband ordered. “Send word to them to return.” He leaned in my ear and whispered, “It’s nothing, my love. Breathe.”

“Demir,” I said, every thought assaulting my brain all at once. “He knows, father knows about me and my magic. Father knew the whole time I’d been there. He knew.”

Everyone turned to me and Kilian held me tightly against him.

“Demir knew the whole time,” I said, attempting to grasp and recall every moment that I’d spent with Aurora’s human lover. “They all knew. Father was playing with me.”

The game ahead blurred, suddenly the pieces shifting around and in the midst of chaos, the king had swapped with the rook—he’d castled away from my sight.

Chapter forty-four

Furor

Snowlin

Kilian had travelled down to Lyra again. More unblessed ships had delivered metal this morning and he’d gone to oversee the delivery himself and hide any suspicion that might travel back to Silas through spies. We’d sent our own spies in search of a sphinx’s heart, searching every underground market there was in the continent while Alaric had taken the task to find the smith through his connections in Fernfoss. If one could find the smith, it would be him.

Larg, Visha and Oryn sat beside me as we mapped down where Nia and Mal had last travelled to before we went to Eldmoor to search for them. Macaria vowed to help, and she was searching her lands along with us, allowing us access to any part of Eldmoor without restriction.

Something was crawling inside of me, a sense of panic, similar to what Nia had described to feel when she sensed me through her magic. Cai had called me paranoid twice in the last hour before he left for Myrdur. And my ears burned so he was probably still rattling to his soldiers about my paranoia.

Visha squinted in concentration, at least she was trying to, but I knew where her mind was flying off. From the way she still picked the skin on her nails, she was dreading her mother’s plan. “The trace craft is not working.”

“They could be under a veil,” Oryn said, studying the map. “Or they could be hiding themselves from being detected from any veil. There is no right way to assume this. Only hope that their skills and magic have not failed them. Prince Malik is almost skilled as a death godling, and Nia is witty, she will adeptly get herself out of trouble.”

No. Nothing was sitting right. “Nia would have returned immediately after finding out Urinthia was taken by Silas. I gave her an order. She has never disobeyed an order I’ve given as her queen.”