Page 43 of Her Soul for a Crown
Anula crossed her arms. “Now what?”
The prophet’s story was a fine one, yet filled with half-truths. Reeri remembered watching from the aether. Indeed, humanity’s thirst for immortality was unquenchable, yet each time Fate saved a life, they cut the hand of their twin, Destiny. Insulted and demeaned, Destiny confronted Fate. The siblings quarreled endlessly. Unwilling to yield, Fate finally turned the relic on Destiny—not in the earthly realm, but in the Heavens.
Destiny tore in two, as cleanly as if they were a blade of grass. Their form disappeared and did not return. Both Heavens rang out in silent terror.
Never had a Heavenly being ceased to exist.
In panic, the First Heavens striped Fate of their power, condemned them to the earthly sea in the form of a monster, and cast the Bone Blade to the island—close enough for Fate to feel its call, but too far to reach. A sentence of empty longing for all eternity.
Crisis averted, the Divinities resumed their purpose. Yet Wessamony recalled the warning given to him all those years before—a warning that suddenly turned to a threat. For if this relic cut the Hand of Death and expunged the existence of cosmic beings, then the Bone Blade could end him.
Wouldend him, when Reeri found it.
Fortunately, the prophet’s demonstration was not for nothing. Reeri had not known of the riddle the Divinities had spoken. They said they cast the relics to Earth,to where all eyes were on them yet none could see. Hidden in plain sight, in a place all would overlook. Not a cave or waterfall, not any location a seeker would search, but a place that was disregarded as common, where its objects, though always there, were too familiar to take note.
A smile twitched at Reeri’s lip. Where did all people visit, yet never scrutinize, too absorbed in their own plight?
“Now we explore the shrine.”
***
Calu breathed in deeply, then let out a long, loud sigh. “O, mighty Heavens and every wretch within, I forgot how good the air smelled.”
Anula snorted.
“What?”
“Nothing. It just figures that the Yakkas would like the scent of refuse and poverty in the morning.”
If Reeri were still made of vapors, his tendrils would snap. He settled on clenching a fist. He had saved her from the man inside the painting, extended a hand when she was nervous; yet still her ire flared. “Does your charm never cease?”
She smiled sardonically. “Never.”
“Good,” Calu said. “Mayhap it will improve Reeri’s when—”
“It is ready.” Reeri cut him off before he spoke of things Anula need not know. She had already given her soul as offering, so the details of the sacrifice were moot, lest he wished for her to scare, name him on that list of murder. Or worse yet, rescind her offering.
At the top of the shrine of the inner city, two guards waited: his and Anula’s. Tahan had been promoted when the last raja’s man died with him in battle. Reeri did not need protection, but as Calu reminded him, they must uphold the facade. In this same way, Calu, as adviser, had redirected all of Chora Naga’s correspondence to the ministers. He had no time to ponder what was so clearly an alliance with Polonnaruwa. They would be gone and freed before anything occurred, Heavens willing. Still, it meant Anula must be kept safe—a job he did not envy. Bithul was appointed solely by her. The two glanced at each other tersely, and Reeri wondered why.
“We have swept the room, my raja,” Tahan said. “It’s empty and safe.”
Empty because the guard made it so, demanding that if the raja wished to walk among his people, the people must be at a secure distance. Namely, across the street, gawking. Not in want of communion, but gossip.
Reeri’s eyes flicked to the sky—blue and clear, not a cloud in sight—and entered the shrine, anticipation riling his shadow.
Bolts of fabric, platters of food, innumerable candles, and flowers populated the floor. Depictions of the Heavens veiled the walls, and in the center stood small figurines of all the Yakkas and all the Divinities. A great many things to hide a relic among.
“Bithul,” Anula greeted her guard as she passed by. Reeri did not miss the false sweetness in her voice. It lessened the sting of her rejection of him. Mayhap she liked no one. “Hope you had restful sleep last night.”
Reeri paced the room. Though he sensed the offerings’ call, it was intuition he must heed now. Relics pulsed and pitched to their own rhythm. Once, when Reeri had come across Courage and their bow, he had felt a fluttering in his soul, akin to a hummingbird’s wings.
“Yes, my raejina consort,” Bithul responded. “Longer than any I’ve had in years.”
“Sounds like a lovely surprise.”
“A surprise indeed. Yet I hope not to experience it again. I care greatly for the duty granted to me by the Heavens.”
“Good. Perhaps the one night was all that was needed.”
