Page 48 of Violet Legacy

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this much power surge through him. Thousands of years ago.

In the quiet, he opened his mind. The cacophony of voices grew until they threatened to breach the barriers he had erected.

Only one other person could awaken them from their endless slumber.

“What have you done, Lilian?”

Chapter 29

AchillranthroughRieka.

The statue was not worth dying for, but someone out there thought it was. She tugged the top of her gown, trying to find some wriggle room so she could get undressed. She didn’t want to think about what had just happened—couldn’t even fathom what could do that amount of damage to a body. The freak-out would need to wait until she was out of Egypt, and hopefully not in an Atlantean prison somewhere. Or dungeon. She just had to focus on what she could fix and compartmentalize the rest. It was one of her superpowers—to the horror of her therapist.

Three days left. The statue was missing, and she was almost guaranteed to be accused of murder or some other nefarious plot. If House Mestor had any sway. She just hoped Dante would keep his word.

“Fuck.”

The damn dress was stuck. She wouldn’t be able to traipse around the Arx in a ball gown. It wouldn’t exactly be incognito… although it may make a good alibi. Clandestine rendezvous seemed to be part of the gala’s agenda. She touched her lips and remembered the feel of Dante’s mouth against hers.

Nope. No more distractions.

This place almost felt like home. Despite the promise to her mom, she didn’t understand why she was told to stay away from Egypt. Atlantean politics didn’t interest her, but the secrets this place held, the whispers of promises, of untold treasures at her fingertips Dante had alluded to… any sane person would have given up their souls for this opportunity.

Rieka tugged one last time. She winced at the sound of the material ripping, but she had finally dislodged the zipper.

For a few hours, she’d felt like a queen. But she had no genuine interest in playing the diplomatic game long term. The Atlanteans could have their galas and negotiations. All she wanted was their ruins.

She picked up the dress and gently placed it on the bed. Rieka wasn’t a total barbarian; the dress would hopefully be salvageable. The bronze bracelet caught the light and softly shimmered. She should take it off, but no one would be the wiser if she kept it on for a few more hours. After rummaging through her pile of clothes, she sniffed the black long-sleeve top and her cargo pants. Rieka grabbed her boots. If she needed to climb or move quickly, she didn’t want to create any trip hazards. It was time that she did some of her own sightseeing. She had promised herself a closer look at Vandana’s flame, and now was the perfect opportunity.

The front door was out of bounds. Talik and the guards were on babysitting duty and would likely not let her leave the room. Which left the balcony.

The air was crisper than she was expecting as she walked out, but the stars offered enough light that she wouldn’t need her flashlight. Rieka strode to the banister to study the wall. The outer layer was sandstone, but over the millennia the wall had developed pit holes, big enough that she could grasp with her fingers and maneuver herself around. It would not be easy or pretty, but it was doable.

Rieka calculated the path she would need to follow, tracing the imaginary line in her mind as she worked out the safest and most efficient route. She had to go up and around before beginning her descent to the ground floor. Once she was at the entrance of the Arx, she should have access to the flame. If Talik had been telling her the truth, and no one had restricted it since the gala. The echo of loud music informed her that what had occurred in the vault was not widespread knowledge.

It took her a few more minutes before she was happy with the path and had committed it to memory. The route was going to be hard, but not arduous. As long as she ignored the eighty-foot drop. Nothing like a challenge and her own mortality to make her try harder.

A stabbing pain shot through her arm as she doubled over. She closed her eyes as she let it wash over her with gritted teeth. Small pulses continued to run through her arm, each pulse sharper and longer than the one before. “Damn it.”

Warm liquid trickled down her hand. She was too focused on the pain to register what she saw. Blood splattered on the floor.

“What the hell?” Despite the pain, she pulled back her shirt sleeve and tried to pull the bracelet off. Excruciating pain hit her, and she stumbled to the ground. Her body was burning from the inside out. The arms of the bracelet had pierced her skin in six different places, inserting themselves into her flesh. She tried again to pull at a singular arm. It slid deeper into her.

A barrage of voices slammed into her mind as darkness and sweet oblivion descended.

Rieka turned, unsure of where she was. One minute she had been on the balcony in unbearable pain, and now she was in the middle of a desert.

She cupped the sand, watching it slowly seep through her fingers.

She had been here before.

The world shimmered as large columns erupted from the surrounding ground. Within a blink of an eye, walls encircled her. Another blink and the walls retreated, leaving her alone in the desert. The stars glittered in the darkness. Hundreds of millions of small white specks frolicked against the blackness.

Pale moonlight shone like a bright spotlight on an auburn-haired woman, who appeared out of place in the desolate desert. The woman wore rose-gold armor that shimmered in the moonlight. Her helmet covered most of her features. There was nothing soft about the being in front of her. This was a woman about to go to war.

Vandana.

Two small children followed the woman, one black-haired girl and a golden-haired boy. They both looked about six years old. Twins. They wore simple pale blue shifts.

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