Page 76 of Winds of Destiny

“No, that’s true,” he agrees. “But where will it end? With power spread around foranyoneto access? Ridiculous.

“I read as much as I could about Inarime before I attempted to visit it,” he goes on. It’s like he’s desperate to talk; I wonder if he said this much to Cam or if he thinks I’ll be more dazzled by his cleverness. “The first time I turned back once I saw the waterfall. My god is great, but his powers don’t extend to water or air. I knew I needed help.”

“So you took it to her.” I nod toward Dian.

“I opened my heart to her and begged her to join me in making our kingdoms great,” he says mockingly. “And she agreed because she loves me ever so much.”

“Fool,” Dian mutters. “I was such a fool to be taken in by you. You played a part the entire time.”

“And you swallowed it whole,” he agrees. “You begged Laigha to do my bidding, to carry me here. You two brought me to this place, you helped me decipher the inscriptions, and you agreed that the simplest way to activate the altar was blood sacrifice.”

“Power,” she corrects sharply. “Power is the way to activate the altar. That means worship and calling on the aid of our gods.That’sthe best way by far to prime the magic in this place.”

“But this altar is already soaked in the blood of a god, and like calls to like,” he tells her. “Why waste my personal power when I can use someone else’s?”

I wonder whose blood he’s planning to use.Probably mine, piece of shit.But he needs me alive to call on Carnuatu—not that I will. It’s a conundrum I can’t see my way around right now; I’m just too tired. I stare straight ahead with blurry eyes, not looking at Embros or Dian any longer, just trudging up this slope and hoping against hope that Camrael and Turo either find a way to free me without harming themselves or get out clean.

The gate to the temple is open when we arrive. The temple looms tall, and it’s no longer noon, which means that shadows cover the ground, rendering everything cool and clammy. Embros leads the way now, striding with his head held high like he’s already the next ruler of Inarime.

The second we step inside the temple, the entire feel of the place changes. It’s not dark in here, despite the fact that there’s a ceiling above us; instead, the ceiling itself glitters with the sun’s light, filtering it down to us with no glare, just brilliance. The ground is dry, and the smell of algae seems to have stopped at the door. The columns lining the path we walk are a spectrum, from darkest midnight at the door through blue, purple, red, and orange, finally becoming pale yellow as we near the center of the vast room.

“Garish, isn’t it?” Embros says as we walk along. I assume he’s talking to me, since Dian has been here before, and he wouldn’t expect his men to answer anyway.

“Lovely,” I reply, because itis, in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s almost enough to keep my mind off the fact that the place we’re headed toward is white—or should have been white. Instead, the huge, three-sided platform is stained deep red, with only a few patches of the original pale marble showing through.

“I’ll change it all soon enough,” he goes on, then steps up onto the platform. The red color crisps and flakes beneath his boots. “Once the power of this place is energized again, there’s no telling what I’ll be able to do.”

He turns and looks—not at me, but at his followers. “Come up here,” he says to them. “We’ve got work to do. Shevara is off hunting down our escaped prince, but he’ll be back to escort another special guest soon enough.”

Wait, Camrael is being hunted by Embros’s snake god? Shit, is he—does he—I clutch the pearl, but I don’t get anything from it except a feeling of determination.Thank Carnuatu. If Shevara is looking for Camrael, he hasn’t found him yet.

“Dian, take Prince Eleas’s leash,” Embros goes on. “I wouldn’t want him to run when we’re so close to the end.”

I let her tug me back as the soldiers join Embros on the platform, but as soon as we have some space, I hiss at her, “Are you mad? No matter why you went along with it in the beginning, surely you see now that letting him go through with it will mean the end of your city’s independence?”

“I have no choice,” she whispers back, cutting her eyes toward me and away as quickly as a swipe with a blade.

“You fucking well do! Your god is still free, isn’t he? Just don’t call himhere!” It’s as easy as that. I knowI’mnot going to do it, and if that means I die to keep Embros from rising to power, so be it.

“It’s not that simple! I can’t—”

“This was once a place of worship for the greatest power ever known,” Embros says, loudly enough that he manages to interrupt our conversation even though he’s not talking to us. “People knelt and prayed to the chimera here, and in exchange, it gave them many gifts. And then…” He gestures at the red on the floor beneath his soldiers’ feet. “They betrayed it by binding it and cutting it to pieces.”

He looks over at me. “You wonder why sacrifice is necessary here? I wondered that, too; in Inarime’s time of triumph, it wasn’t. But this altar has been polluted by the blood of its own god, and that has changed how its power can be accessed. Worship won’t do.Blood, though, blood to revive blood… That will do it.”

“Sire,” one of his soldiers says, shifting on his feet. “Do you want us to bring them up here so you can—”

“No, Captain.” Embros smiles at the man who dared to speak. “No, I’m afraid those two are quite irreplaceable. You all, on the other hand…” His eyes go green, and the power seeps from him and into the chest of every one of his men, tethering them to him. “It’s time for you to take your next step on the path to glory. Your blood will resurrect the very soul of agod. Feel honored.”

“Sire, please—no—”

All of his people go down at once, collapsing in a jumbled heap where they were just standing. Unlike before, the poison he’s wielding now seems to take time. They’re still alive—chests moving up and down, eyes rolling in their sockets, frantic and afraid.

“I’ll do it gently,” Embros promises. Then he pulls the long knife at his belt, reaches for the hair of the nearest man, lifts his head, and—

Slits his throat.

Blood sprays all over, dripping down Embros’s tunic, pooling at his feet. Unbothered, Embros lays the man back down so that his blood continues spreading across the floor instead of spattering into the air.

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