A hissing sound slipped around me, followed by a wet, sickening crunch. When I tried to describe it later, I could never find the words. It was a thousand bones breaking. A bundle of veins yanked from the skin. Older than ancient. More powerful than I could comprehend.
Doru’s lips moved, and his deep voice rumbled the mist. “ESHTO.”
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears.
Laurent bowed his head.
Wonder spread through me as I watched Doru place a hand on Laurent’s hair. I sank to my knees and bowed my head too as I acknowledged the new High Priest of the Sanctum.
ESHTO. I didn’t hear it this time, but I knew Doru had repeated it. Kill. He’d given Laurent the bly’ad for death. But Laurent had already earned it. This time, the bly’ad was a gift.
FOR MY FAVORED ONE.
Doru stepped back. Laurent lifted his head. Glyphs covered his face.
WHO LOVES MY CHILDREN MORE THAN HIMSELF.
The glyphs glowed red.
SAVE MY CHILDREN FROM THE SUN.
Laurent nodded once, his face wet with tears. The glyphs shimmered and sank into his skin.
Doru’s gaze shifted to the left of Laurent, and suddenly Varick was there. His eyes were wide, his body seemingly rooted to the spot. After a second, he quickly lowered his head.
The god didn’t smile, but I could have sworn I sensed what might have been laughter. Or perhaps affection. He glided forward and touched Varick’s hair. As Varick lifted his head, Doru pressed a bloody thumb to Varick’s forehead.
Varick’s lips parted. His big chest swelled as he drew an unsteady breath.
Doru looked past Varick, peering at something I couldn’t perceive. His red eyes narrowed. For a second, he wasn’t beautiful.
Only terrible.
Then he was gone.
Someone was weeping.
I lifted my head from where I knelt in the Sanctum. The candles sputtered. I still held the golden dagger in my hand. But now Lega’s bly’ad dwelt on my tongue.
Laurent turned from the altar and faced the back wall of the Sanctum. He was strong and whole, his body fully restored. His eyes glowed so brightly they cast shadows on his cheeks. The line of blood Doru had painted glistened from his forehead to the center of his chest.
The sound of weeping grew louder. I turned toward it. Lar Guna sobbed into his hands. On either side of him, the other lords of the Council openly wept. Behind them, the row of knights went to one knee and bowed their heads.
“I am not finished here,” Laurent said, his voice crackling with power. “Hesseth,” he hissed. Light streaked around the room.
Sealing the Sanctum shut.
Chapter Sixteen
LAURENT
I bound them to each other first.
My first love…and my last. How perfect that they should come together this way. How privileged I was to bind them.
I went to him and undressed him. So beautiful. My hands shook, and he caught them. Pressed them to his lips and steadied me, even though it was I who should have steadied him. The others watched, and I didn’t like it. I had no way to shield him from eyes that would reopen his wounds.
But then she came—my last love—and she knew how to fix it. Her roses rained, fat bulbs that fell from the roof of the Sanctum and disappeared before they touched the ground. They cascaded in a curtain, concealing my first love’s hurts.