Page 254 of Revels on an Angel’s Grave

Roremar could tell from her tone that she’d put something together, but he didn’t know what. The trial was still trying to suppress his mind. He battled against the dark waves, kept pushing to the surface.

“Have you figured out yet what these monuments are?” Dryvius asked.

As he waited for an answer, he strode to the base of the largest statue, the winged form at the front of the room.

He placed his hands on the stone, head bowed. The reverence almost eclipsed the evil rolling off him. But when he cast a cruel smirk back over his shoulder, that thought vanished from Roremar’s mind.

“This is the sacred grave.” Dryvius’s words rang through the space like a bell chiming, starfire flaring up the walls, filling channels along the statues and floor until the entire space glowed white and silver.

“What does that mean?” Emmeline asked, eyes aglow with stars in the reflection of white fire. “Valyrie isn’t dead.”

“She isn’t, but every Angel has a grave should they one day be laid to rest. Valyrie’s was buried beneath this city thousands of years ago when she first created her tournament. She is not allowed to visit it again until her demise. And thanks to the careless rulers since, they have forgotten all about that piece of warrior history.”

He flicked a distasteful glance at Rocarri that Roremar mirrored. If only leaders like him hadn’t been so fucking selfish and struck historic accounts down while prioritizing their own motives, they may have been able to piece some of this together better.

“A grave,” Emmeline whispered, partly to herself, partly to Roremar. “The scroll spoke about a sanctuary. I thought it meant the graveyard where we found the mausoleum, but it meant this—everything below ground.”

“Because this place isn’t only a grave for the Angel,” Roremar said, scanning the monuments—all twelve of them. Even the Fate of Chaos and Revelry himself. One of the few places in Valyn that included Dryvius at the same level as the others. “It’s for the Fates, as well.”

Dryvius’s smile curled.

The Fates.

No other warrior clan had something like them. It solidified this spot as entirely unique—and rich with a source of power few other places in the realm would know.

Not one grave. But thirteen.

Dryvius said, “When we ascended to the Fate Realm, we left our bones behind.”

Roremar’s jaw dropped open, and he took in the monuments again. The careful craftsmanship of each, the fortified marble plinths, cracked from age but sturdy enough to stand millennia.

“Our magic felt more powerful in Valyn,” Desmond said to Emmeline. “It makes sense. Everyone’s probably is, but ours is more noticeable.”

Because they each had more Fate ties to manage. And the sources were so fucking close.

Roremar’s gaze flicked to the monuments. “The bodies of the Fates—they’re all here?”

“The bones,” Dryvius clarified. “They have been a sort of guardian legion to threats beneath the city since we left the realm. Making sure no one found this place that wasn’t supposed to. Mine came back to me when I returned to this realm, but we were linked to these tombs when we became Fates in the original tournament.”

“It’s always been about these fucking trials and everything they hid,” Roremar grumbled. His free hand fisted, knuckles cracking as he watched Dryvius.

“Points of Constellation,” Emmeline whispered. “That’s what this place is. The tunnels connect to each district and are modeled after the Fates, leading back to their graves. And it’s why Valyrie seemed impressed when I’d put together the purpose of the districts. It was easy enough to figure out, but she knew that, combined with all the other information I had about the tunnels, it could lead us here.”

“The cavern is rich with magic, and the tunnels form a star map. The entire city is a constellation with enough power you can feed off. This point is the patron star.”

Roremar’s stomach dropped at the implication. If they were standing in a Point of Constellation, a point of heightened magic, that also branched out to twelve other points around the city primed through their connection to the bones of the Fates…

Finishing his thought, Emmeline declared, “You’re going to open a bridge to the Fate Realm.”

“You are quite clever, Miss DeLeoste.” Dryvius smiled as he looked between her and Roremar. “I can see we chose wisely for the two of you.”

Roremar’s stomach pitched at the reminder that he and Emmeline weren’t only in love but destined. That it had been Fates like this one who approved that bond.

Suddenly, the Fatesworn bond left a sour taste on his tongue. He loved Emmeline, but he didn’t want that associated with the Fates.

“You didn’t choose her for me,” he swore.

“That bond says differently.” Dryvius tilted his head, the move as feline as Cirre. “Though, isn’t it odd that you didn’t receive the Fatesworn tattoo?”