Page 54 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

“By the end of the battle, Narc was no more. And the gods who fought against him were lost to the void, their very names forgotten. Those of us who search the dark for answers only know there are blank spots where gods should be.”

“They disappeared?”

It seems impossible.

My mind churns with the implications. Could the drachen be Narc’s nightmares still hunting for those to punish after the god who created and controlled them was lost? “How does one fight creatures that could do that to the gods?”

“Carefully.” Sterling tightens his grasp on my hand, his warmth a reassurance against the fear creeping into my mind. “Together.” He nods to the priestess, then starts heading for the door.

“One moment.” I extract my hand from his. “I have one more sacrifice I’ve prepared for today.”

The priestess steps back as I approach, leaving me to the sanctity of the altar.

Jars of all sizes surround the stubby candle. Each one is capped with a cork and draped in black leather.

Reaching forward, I find one of the leather-clad lids. Using my hands, I ensure the container is the proper size as I reach for my pocket.

I close my eyes and envision the void like the priestess told me.

Envision the darkness behind your eyes. The darkness of sleep. Of the womb. The darkness that cradles life.

My prayer is silent, spoken only in the darkness of my mind.

Please, guide us. Lend us your shroud to obscure their gaze, your silence to deafen their cries.

Blindly, I withdraw the feather I found in the Lost City from my pocket. I didn’t know why I brought it with me this morning, but now I know there’s no better offering for Nyc than a feather from one of her own sacred animals.

Using both hands, I tuck it into the jar, then lift the lid to the mouth. Ensuring the leather wrap lays flat, I press the cork down, sealing my sacrifice in darkness, where no light can find it.

As my lashes slowly lift, the darkness around me unfolds like a bottomless pit that surrounds me from all sides.

I have a fraction of a moment, barely enough time to understand what I’m seeing. Then, like the segments of a dragon’s wing, shadows snap out. I’m cocooned before I can move.

Every mote of light that tries to pierce through is mercilessly snuffed out, devoured by an insatiable void. Looking up and down changes nothing. I start to reach out, then snatch my arm back in fear when I cannot see even that. I can feel my muscles contracted tightly in my bicep, and my knuckles pressed against my chest. That is the only way I can be sure of where my limb is.

Panic grips my chest, but as I take in my blank surroundings, I realize this is not blindness. Nor is it a void.

This is living darkness.

It surrounds me with a comforting embrace from the depths of obscurity. There is a weight to it, pressing gently all around me. I reach out again, and I can almost swear I feel the darkness slide between my fingers as I wiggle them.

“Darkness sees you, mortal.” A voice—not the priestess’s—echoes all around me, omnipresent and resonant with power.

I’m not startled as it seeps into the cavernous spaces within me. Spaces that have been hollowed out by loss are warm again. Tears burn my eyes, held in place by shock.

Should I kneel? Should I curtsy? Throwing myself prone on the floor seems a more fitting alternative.

Too stunned to move, I do nothing.

“Your sacrifice pleases the shadows.” The voice is ethereal yet intimate as it brushes my ears, eyes, lips, and still echoes as if from a great distance. “Nyc heeds your call.”

A reverence-induced sigh quakes through my body.

Blinded by divine attention, my heart beats to the pulse of the night.

ChapterNineteen

Am I still…alive? Surely I’d know if I were dead.

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