Page 47 of Damned and Broken Gods
I had to step through that. My insides trembled. Come on, Leela. You’ve got this.
The crimson threads in the black stone pulsed as I passed as if to say,Yeah, you can do this. We’re with you.
Or maybe the altitude was driving me mad.
A little madness was good, though, especially if it helped me get through this terrifying experience.
I dove into the stars, crossing the threshold while holding my breath and expecting to fall into nothingness, but my boot met solid ground, and the stars melted away, leaving me standing in a domed chamber. The ceiling was so high it was wreathed in shadows, and in the center of it all was the throne—not a soft, cushy seat kind of throne, but a monument carved from the kind of stone I’d never seen before. A dark gray stone that glittered as if starlight was trapped inside it.
It rose seamlessly from the ground. The backrest reached for the ceiling, bisected by a crimson artery that sprouted veins which spread like the branches of a tree to cover the structure.
“Come forth!” a voice boomed, making me jump.
Where the fuck had it come from?
Amber light bloomed high up on the wall above the throne to reveal a balcony of figures looking down on me.
The Authority.
Chandra stood in the middle, three Asura on either side of him. “Come forward, blood of Vijayroodra,” he said.
It was too far to read his expression, and his tone gave nothing away.
I forced my feet to move, and this time, the sound of my boot falls echoed, each strike followed by a hush that felt like a sigh.
It was like walking into the lungs of an ancient being, where power hummed against my skin. My pulse thrummed in my throat, and every breath felt faster, shallower, because it felt as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. I came to a standstill a few yards from the throne and tipped my head up to the Authority.
“Leela, you are proven to be blood of Vijayroodra. Your royal birthright stands before you, rooted in ancient stone. But you are not of this world. You are not a born god, and there lies the quandary that the Authority must today solve. Before we pass our judgment, is there anything that you wish to say to support your immediate ascension?”
Erabi had warned me about this moment, and I was ready.
“You say that I’ve got royal blood in my veins, that the throne is my birthright, and I would be honored to claim it. But you’re right, I’m not from this world. I’m not a born god, and if you choose to ascend me and put me on your throne, then I would need guidance, advice, and education in how your world operates. I’m willing to learn and adapt if you feel that I’m ready to do so.”
It was throwing the ball in their court, telling them that I was theirs to command, a speech crafted by Chandra to help me soften the remaining Asura, but I doubted that Rajni would be swayed.
Still, if I already had two votes and swayed at least two more Asura with my speech, then I had a shot.
Silence weighted in possibilities followed my words.
The amber light above dimmed for several beats, the Authority moving like shadows on the balcony, no doubt conferring.
A gentle ringing filled my ears followed by a buzz beneath my skin. A whisper skated my consciousness, words that I didn’t understand but felt, deep in the marrow of me.
A welcome…
The balcony blazed with light once more, and my pulse stuttered. Shit, were they ready? Okay, breathe, Leela.
Chandra stepped forward and rested his hands on the lip of the balcony, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “The votes have been cast. Three in agreement of immediate ascension and three against.”
I stared at him in confusion. “A draw? So what happens now?”
“In the event of a deadlock, the throne casts the final vote.” His eyes were bright in his face with what I read to be triumph.
Shit. If the throne got to decide…was that a shoo-in?
The ground beneath my boots began to vibrate, and the crimson threads mapping the throne’s surface pulsed and glowed brighter. A mossy, iron-rich scent filled my nose, evoking images of nature and destruction. Glyphs bloomed to life against the base of the structure, sliding up and over its surface. Shifting back and forth in silent debate. And I knew deep in my marrow that the throne was awakening.
Erabi had called it sentient, and I felt the truth of it now. The otherness. The greatness.
