Page 40 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
She moves further out until the water reaches the middle of her thighs, wetting the hem of her tunic.
The dark sea stretches out before her, the heavy scent of brine and the sharp cries of gulls keeping her company. Millions of stars stretch across the blackened sky, their rippled twins reflected in the water. At times like these, she feels so small and insignificant. As if nothing she does will matter in the end.
Dru uncinches the coin purse and looks up, drawing in a slow, deep breath and whispering, “You would’ve loved this. Every single moment of it.”
As she watches the night sky, a cluster of stars twinkle in and out.If she believed in the Caeli—the heavens the Phaedrans claim exist after you die—she might imagine Ovi looking down on her now. Of her being up there among the stars.
Given she had no chance in Nusquam to do the last rites for her friend, she decides to do so now.
Grasping the shredded remnants of the last order Ovi would ever be given, she scatters them into the surf, speaking the words she was taught but hoped never to use:
“In life, you have served. In death, you shall rest. Mors vincit omnia.” Then, she whispers, “Ex nihilo nihil fit.”
It means “nothing comes from nothing”—a promise Dru and Ovi made to each other if one of them died while the other lived. Whoever survives promises to move on with their lives, and not mourn the other for too long. Otherwise, they’ll waste away into nothing, and the one who died, will have done so for nothing. Dru was certain Ovi would be the one mourning her, not the other way around.
Although Dru will always carry Ovi with her, she has to do her best to move on.
Standing there as the bits of paper ebb and flow at the whims of the Multum Sea, a strange buzzing noise reaches her ears, droning at her back like a swarm of cicadas. She glances over her shoulder, the sound pulling her attention from the sea to the land.
Slowly trudging back toward the shore, she finds herself drawn to the mouth of a cave. The plants on the cliffside surrounding it appear dead.No, not dead; as if they’ve been set aflame and burned through to their roots.
Dried seaweed and seashells litter the ground as she reaches the sand. She bends down and picks up a white, round one with a strange shape in the middle—when the humming intensifies.
The shell falls through her fingers and plops onto the sand as she stumbles in the direction of the sound, unable to stop herself. It calls to her, carries her feet along the surface of the beach as if they no longer belong to her. She feels nothing—not the salt on her face, theshifting ground beneath her, or the temperate breeze through her hair.
They lead her to the looming mouth of the cave. Utterly black inside and as empty as the beach, she stares into it, waiting for something to happen. The humming intensifies the closer she comes, as if hiding itself behind a veil.
Then, as suddenly as the humming began, it stops. Silence presses in on her ears, and the cool night air crawls beneath her skin, causing her to shiver.
Searching the blackness of the cave, a chill scrapes up her spine. She’s not normally one to believe in superstitions, but something doesn’t feel right about this place. And she’s not going to wait around to find out what it is.
Hurrying back up the shore, she grabs her sandals and scurries up the path as if she’s being chased by someone—or something. But each time she looks over her shoulder, she’s alone.
She doesn’t feel safe until she finds her way back to the palace, climbs the vines, and pulls herself up into her room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DRUSILLA
Dru’s already awake when Sabina knocks on her door, loud enough to resurrect the dead.
She could barely sleep after what happened last night. She’s not sure what to make of what she heard or what she saw—what shedidn’tsee. It could easily be explained away by her grief, but the feeling the cave imprinted on her—of dread and danger, of promise and power—stuck with her into the early hours of the morning. She rubs at her eyes, aching from the lack of sleep.
“I’m coming,” she calls out, and Sabina knocks again, louder somehow. Dru mutters to herself, “That girl has cotton in her ears.”
She flings the door open to find Sabina’s hand raised for a third knock. Dru raises her brow and Sabina does the same. Things feel more familiar between them now that they carry a shared secret. Dru doesn’t like owing anyone, but Sabina doesn’t seem like the type to call in the favor.
Sabina flits inside. “I heard that.”
Dru ignores her. “Is there something Cato needs from me so early in the morning?”
“Yes.” She lays a purple silk dress carefully on her bed. “Theenvoys from the Imperium have arrived. They’re here to see Sovrano and the rest of the council.”
“Very good, I’ll dress.”
Sabina folds her hands in front of her expectantly.
Dru holds in a sigh. “I’m only going to throw on a tunic for now; I don’t need much help with that.”
