Page 133 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Ahighpriestess?“How can you possibly tell?”
“Because I knew her. But, also, our humming magic would have never called to you. Neither would you have survived the Viverna’s fire,” she says plainly. “It’s how all of us were brought into the fold: by being burned with the ancient dragon’s flames and healing with the help of the plumeria ashes.”
They pause at the shoreline, the sound of the waves barely above a whisper. Ginevra places a hand on Dru’s arm. “I knew Beatrice’s child would return someday, but I didn’t expect it under these circumstances.”
“Why tell me all this now?” Dru asks, head spinning.
“Because you need to know that your earned skills aren’t youronly weapons. You likely possess humming magic, same as King Cato, same as me and my priestesses.”
Stellae, that’s impossible.Even if I do possess it somehow, I won’t be able to harness it in time for tomorrow.
Dru sighs, unable to wrap her head around the idea of her mother being one of the Tredici, much less the possibility of her possessing any sort of magic. “I thank you for your honesty. I’m not sure it’ll make a difference tomorrow, but I appreciate it all the same.”
They walk along the beach, on a path she knows well, toward the black cave. She glances over at the spot in the sea where she said goodbye to Ovi and cast out their last order together. Tears ache behind her eyes, wishing she had the support of her best friend on the night she learned the truth about her mother.
Halting in front of the cave, Ginevra turns to her. “One last thing, before you go inside.”
I cannot handle much else.
“You should trust Marcus Scaevola as much as you once did. The two of you will need each other for what’s to come.”
Dru swallows hard. Normally, she wouldn’t take the priestess at her word alone. But she’s found her way back to placing her trust in Marcus again, though he continues to harbor important secrets from her. He has his reasons—reasons that she knows aren’t to keep her in the dark for the sake of it. Because, in the end, she trusts him more than anyone else.
“I do—I will,” she amends.
Ginevra nods.
“Through the veil, you’ll find the Viverna waiting for you. Now that you hold his fire in your blood, he will not—and cannot—harm you.”
Ginevra steps away before Dru can answer. “I wish you strength and luck tomorrow, Drusilla Valerius.”
“I’m going to need it,” Dru mutters as the priestess leaves herstanding alone on the beach, with only the sounds of the sea to keep her company.
Clenching her hands together outside the cave, night begins to fall over the shores of Anziano. Each time she resolves to go in, uncertainty roots her to the spot.
Out here, she’s still the woman who joined the Faithless after the Imperium destroyed her entire world, who knew little of her past and found contentment with that. Once she steps inside, she’ll become the woman whose mother lied to her about where she came from, about the truth behind her heritage.
Inside that cave, she’ll be forced to face her destiny as a woman of this land who possesses humming magic in her bones and dragon’s fire in her blood.
Taking a breath, she steps through the veil.
Darkness surrounds her at first, followed by the light of the torches on the walls. Do the flames ever die? Or are they kept alive by the humming magic? She’ll have to ask Ginevra the next time she sees her.
The beast at the center of the room draws her attention and she finds she no longer cares about the answer. Free from his cage, he’s about the size of a very large horse, laying on the ground. His dark green scales flicker in the firelight, bright red spines protruding from his back. The end of his tail curves in, splitting into two more, larger crimson spines.
At the sound of her footfalls on the sand, his eyes crack open. They’re just as she remembers them: bright yellow at the center and darkening to orange on the edges, black pupils the shape of almonds. His spiked tail flicks as he lifts his head but otherwise he doesn’t move. A metal chain, like the one on the lion, has been fitted around his neck, binding him to the stone wall behind him.This is unfair, she can’t help thinking, and has a terrible urge to set him free.
But, considering all the Phaedrans present in Anziano, they can’t risk him being seen.
Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she approaches him. Hewatches her with mild interest. Closer now, the smooth surface of his scales’ teardrop-shape flickers, revealing the brighter greens imbedded within. He huffs and smoke curls out of his nostrils. If there’s any heat from it, she can’t feel it, and the smoke doesn’t choke her like it should.
Putting out a hand, she says the only thing that comes to mind: “Aequanimitas, amica.”Calmness, friend. A phrase from her training she would’ve forgotten if not for Marcus. She warms at the memory in the stables in Nusquam, a lifetime ago now.
She has no idea if it worked, but at least the Viverna doesn’t attack her. He barely moves at all. Slowly—painfully so—she lowers her hand onto the top of the beast’s head and touches his scales.
He sighs, as if content with the contact. Dru’s not sure what to do, her pulse thundering along her limbs.
His scales are harder beneath her touch than she imagined, not like leather or fur but more like hard glass. Something passes between them—it shoots up her back and warms her chest.
